"A hot day. The sun bangs on the roof of my studio, deep in the heart of Spain. My paint is melting. The sunlight strikes my eyes. Lightens the heat. Teases me. Challenges me. Shouts at me. Hey!

My pinhole camera is no more than a little black box. Wooden shoebox with shutters. In the darkroom I put the negative into place; light sensitive photographic paper. Close the box. Back to my studio. A pose rises. A scene. Tension always tension. I stretch my muscles to the max. Minutes crawl by. Spanish voices from the street. I'm not moving. My heart is. My blood. In front of me a little black box. My 'caja'. Magic case. It looks at me with one eye. Tiny little hole. Enough! Into the dark again. Paper drowns in chemical bath. I don't know what I'm seeing! Later I will look. Now fix the negative. Clock counts minutes. Meanwhile I put a new sheet of photo paper in the box. Here I go again. I love this light. This is the place to do this. Right here. Right now. Feeling instead of seeing. 'A tientas'. Reaching for the light."

H.M.