02/25/2022 07:43am

I run on the stairs of the Albaicín. Head down, I see neither the old Nasrid medina, nor the studded doors of the hamams, nor the Mudejar-style churches. On the top of the hill, I choose the first point of view on the Alhambra which comes. I need to tick a box.

The pressure that usually pushes me to be demanding and stay focused can overflow and become irrational. In this specific case, I choose a postcard view rather than letting the desire to paint come naturally. The result is flat and uninteresting.

Ideally, in these moments, I should stop everything, go get some fresh air, drink a latte, raise my nose to the sky.

I can't draw without pleasure.