Blog 

To Dear You,

Autumn is settling in deeper elsewhere, but summer still lingers in Seville, bright and vibrant like Flamenco. Here, I've learnt to move slowly, just like the summer, like the hands of the church clock in the old town. 

Speak of clock, do you think a moment can last forever? I’ve decided it can. It just changes shape. It becomes the scent of a orange, the warmth on my skin after a day in Seville's sun, a familiar pattern on the wall...and as I'm writting this to you, I realize that I remember Seville not by streets, but by simple things: the cool spot under the palm tree in Plaza de España, the sound of a guitar from an open window, the citrus seabreeze flowing at dusk...

And oranges! Ever since I came to Seville, I've been seeing oranges everywhere — those hanging by the seaside, those wrapped in sweet chocolate, and the orange-like sunset, round and glowing on the horizon...even when I close my eyes now, I can still see these oranges, and I miss them in a way that feels quiet, like sunlight falling on a closed eyelid.

If each age can be a fruit, I think 19 is just like an orange. Hidden inside its peelings is an especially tender globe of emotions — sweet, bright, with a sour tinge...oh and, beside oranges, I’m putting you on this "map" of Seville too. You’re everywhere the light is warm.

Anyway, I'm sending you this letter with the citrus seabreeze at dusk, and you'll know when you feel it.  

And I hope the seabreeze finds you well.Mark