I was born in Madrid, as far back as the year 66, when still were left to feel in Spain the effects of a handcuffed society; years in which a B-52 left his deadly signature for misery of some citizens and advertsing of the governing class; years in which the supremacy for reaching the Moon was debated between the two "big nations"; years in which the little Pickles recovered the Jules Rimet cup in the London suburbs that was frequenting and received as "well-deserved" reward can to lick the plates of the inaugural banquet of World Soccer Champioship. One year later the doggy died strangled victim of his own misery looking for food...

What can I say about photography? I like it, i love it, excite me, astonish me... The sensation of feeling that you guard yourself one instant that will never return, that sigh who is let to capture and that remains forever. Moments of anonymous life of their protagonists. With their faults and with their virtues.

Scott Fitzgerald said that it was possible to caress the people with words...

... I caress them with my camera.

dani zkymera