Caracas at Night Panoramic (View from “La Alameda”)

Caracas expands at night. Its boundaries seem vast points of light shining on the horizon. Concrete blocks that day seem inanimate, light dress as sentinels. Then I take my camera to look your best pose. Caracas has many faces as a beautiful woman. A backlight seems to be different if the shadows bathe. Apparently it will be said that a city as such is something that has no life. Of course, the streets do not change or live, but what happens in them is a reflection of the life of the people, instead it changes everything around.

From the hills, is an immense pool lit with purple color crystal, emerald green tones, gray leaden that loom over the city, touching the concrete and steel angles where thousands of people are staying out of that which lies beyond the walls. Suddenly one can come up with one of these guys who dress hip-hop style, with baggy pants, his visor, his chains, necklaces, her dark glasses, tattoos and hand a can of spray paint.

Like I have a delicate brush in hands, start making lines, curved, concentric, straight, designing an outline, filling it with color. Quickly, because the police can get around any corner, will develop these vast urban fresh in their language called urban art or graffiti. As the story goes, this term comes from ancient Rome, yes, almost two millennia ago, apparently the young rebels, because rebellion has always been synonymous with youth, written with charcoal or graphite, on the walls of the great city Italy. Interesting.

The city will draw their own murals, are left exposed after a new building was inaugurated, an apartment or any corner that looks too white. Light also the city draws its tones as his it were a painting: the alleys can be seen illuminated by phosphorescent neon shades: emerald, blue, red, pink, purple. Is a rainbow artificial gas and glass. The cabinets of supermarkets show everything on the shelves: color, textures, shadows and lights.

If Michelangelo, Leonardo Da Vinci, Titian, Tintoretto, Degas, Touluose-Lautrec, Goya and Andy Warhol, were alive, what might do from the window of the room with a blank canvas in front of them and looking down the night on Caracas?

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