Note---

I'm talking about the actual time of day here. I came to realize, and this is a mere coincidence, that my feelings for Spain and the nostalgia I carried for so long partly belonged to this time of day (and the early mornings-- dawnish). The times I would spend on the streets here, almost 6 years ago.

All I remember is how I felt when I saw the colors and expression in the sky.

And now, I see it again. I experience it all over again. This time, however, there is something else that so happens to be called Twilight... how ironic that I find so much meaning and so many connections... after so many years.

And the Generación del '98 -- the modernistas-- loved el crepúsculo. Unlike romantics -- which are also a fave -- who preferred the night, these writers consider twilight as the magical hour of the day. When everything is so much more ephemeral and transitory; it all seems lighter and more impossible to retain because night so readily approaches.

Ok, well, I haven't drawn something in so long. But then again, my patience for drawing is thin, plus, I'm not good at it. I'll have to find another medium...