It was about two and a half years ago, when on a summer day I became a little transfixed looking at the house of the old medical doctor, in the tiny Portuguese town where my family comes from. I had seen this house many times, since I was a little boy. But that day, I am not sure why, maybe it was the light, or maybe it was something happening in my heart. Looking at it, I saw myself from the outside: a young boy drawing lonely houses on massively large, clean spaces, under crystalline, pastel blue skies with swirling clouds.
That day, the boy became a man who was ready and willing to bring those drawings and their message back for himself, and for others who could also see themselves in those small colourful houses that grew large antennas to connect to the sky, and send birds out as carriers of secret messages.
It all began with my mobile phone, but the journey took me to more sophisticated cameras, editing tools, more attention to detail, more awareness of the houses’ character. I started seeing them as wholes and now I look at them almost as organisms, with veins, muscles and bones. I have been blessed with spending time with the owners of many of these houses, and heard their beautiful stories. It is incredible to feel like this is only chapter one over. That a chapter two now begins for this hunter of lonely houses.
More info: Instagram | sejkko.com | Facebook
This post may include affiliate links.
In the South East of the UK there would probably be a massive housing estate behind the camera! An area of ground not built on? Got to do something about that!! I like the idea of all the space although also think I'd feel eerily isolated.
The way the photo has been taken makes it feel like it's floating on the water. Though it also frustrates me a little as I'd like to see the bottom of the house.
I really can see these images hanging on a wall in some gallery.
Parece que para que haya casa tiene que haber árbol, raíces, tronco, olor a tierra. Han de brotar las ramas, desprenderse las hojas. Ha de pasar el agua cerca. Tiene que caer la lluvia, llevarse el polvo, secar el aire las hojas. Para que haya casa ha de haber tiempo para ordenar y espacio para el desorden. Han de quedar siempre pequeños rincones por explorar, por ejemplo, aquellos lugares donde se guardan las palabras que aún no supimos decir. Para que haya casa hemos de llevar muy adentro las casas que fueron los que ahora viven lejos. Casa es también el lugar donde nos permitimos llorar y dejamos a las lágrimas alcanzar la tierra. Habitar cuerpo, árbol, tierra, madre. Soltar lluvia, aire, lágrimas, río. Construir sueños, monte, amor, versos. Beatriz Viol, Hallar la casa. (Ediciones Endymion, 2018)
I love all these photos. They give me an overwhelming desire to know who, and what, lies within these walls
The house of spring birds.
Salí a la calle y de pronto mi mundo se resquebrajó. No fue una tragedia. Fueron detalles. Pronto cumpliré setenta años… Fue el frío polar el dolor de garganta el dolor en la mano derecha adonde me quebré. Mi mundo se resquebrajó como un espejo que se cae. Entonces retrocedí y volví a entrar en mi casa que estaba cálida y limpia. Mi perra me miró asombrada. Los animales se dan cuenta de todo. Las personas no. Estela Figueroa (1946- 2022)
The big chimney house, you would think it would be partially blocking the entrance door, poor design
Casa iluminada. Estrella de lejos; de cerca, posada. Jaime Torres Bodet (1902 -1974)
Lo importante no es la casa donde vivimos. Sino dónde, en nosotros, vive la casa. Mia Couto
Every house has its own personality. I love them all. Thank you for sharing!!
These pictures are so poetic and magical. Thank you so much for sharing them with us :)
Every house has its own personality. I love them all. Thank you for sharing!!
These pictures are so poetic and magical. Thank you so much for sharing them with us :)