I was having dinner on the balcony of my hotel and observed that for the week that I was in Seville,
I had not seen stars as often as I did back home. I always turn my gaze up at night,
perhaps because I feel calm every time I look at the sky, regardless of where I’m in.
Two weeks in, I noticed that stars don’t always appear from where I currently reside,
instead, I have observed how beautiful the colors of the sky melt during twilight
and how the shapes of clouds are so different in the afternoon.
Sometimes they appear like quiet waves, a clothesline, or a portal opening,
more often though they aren’t around, allowing my body to bask under the harsh Spanish sun at 3 PM
but also seeing twilights clearly as days open and close.
I found myself staring more at the sky as days continue to pass,
aching for the familiarity of home, while also thinking about how proximity grows despite the distance.
I ’ve become more conscious of my senses since I got here,
my body has also been observant of the little changes in the weather–
as leaves fall from trees to welcome the cold breeze of winter,
yet with all the changes, the sky has become my guide and refuge.
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The sky tells me the time, I begin and end the day with serene twilights, in the afternoon,
sometimes clouds come by, and on rare nights I get to sleep under the stars.
The sky hints that I’m in a different place, so far away from people and places I call home,
yet somehow looking at it also reminds me that despite the distance we are in proximity,
because we’re still under the same big sky, even if the clouds look different here or in Spanish, “aquí”.
aching for the familiarity of home, while also thinking about how proximity grows despite the distance.
I ’ve become more conscious of my senses since I got here,
my body has also been observant of the little changes in the weather–
as leaves fall from trees to welcome the cold breeze of winter,
yet with all the changes, the sky has become my guide and refuge.
The sky tells me the time, I begin and end the day with serene twilights, in the afternoon,
sometimes clouds come by, and on rare nights I get to sleep under the stars.
The sky hints that I’m in a different place, so far away from people and places I call home,
yet somehow looking at it also reminds me that despite the distance we are in proximity,
because we’re still under the same big sky, even if the clouds look different here or in Spanish, “aquí”.
“Having recently moved to Spain, Geela Garcia becomes more observant of what is shared between distant places. The clouds look different here/Las nubes se ven diferentes aqui is an ongoing personal project capturing the sky and snippets of the world beneath. Searching for semblances of home, photographs “Here” and “Aqui” follow Geela as she casts her gaze upward.” - Tarzeer Pictures
Art Fair Philippines, “When Comets Land” Exhibition