Defining ourselves as Venezuelans, Argentinians or Mexicans is extremely short sighted, somewhat idiotic and definitely provincial. Spanish America has a lot in common and it is only the substantial commonalities what truly defines us as a nation.
For the unaware North American or European traveler who first arrives in the tropics, a pleasant surprise awaits. Against the reference background of northerner landscapes, the colors of the tropics do stand out boldly.
Human gestures are perfect definition of archetypes.
That November morning in 1992, Caraqueños woke up to the roaring sounds of military planes. An attempt of coup d’etat was underway.
The gesture of an Anasyrma is as old as human beings and when performed unexpectedly, it is the most effective.
How do you cram four million people in a tiny valley? The answer lies in the vertical dimension. Caracas, the capital city of Venezuela, grows vertically.
Cities only differ in their local color. In a sense, once you have been to one city, you have been to all.
In rare occasions, billboards showcase personal messages. In such instances, billboards will become a strong attention magnet.
Twenty years ago, we said: “no more” and so we left the homeland. Venezuela has not changed much since then, I am afraid. And now the country faces yet another set of problems.
Energy can be transformed from one form to another, but it cannot be created or destroyed. Can we say the same of love?