The pictures were all taken on the same night, on a roof terrace in the Bela Vista neighbourhood, Praia, Cabo Verde.

Well, not all, really. The Ocean, the colour pictures were not; the ocean in its rogue voices: let us never forget the Ocean.

Spending quite a bit of time of the early nights on the roof makes the moon a constant interlocutor. The sensitive notes of Vasco Martins in dialog with the November moon informed my memories of those Praia nights, light and quiet nights, thick with our joyous and curious soft voices.

In another way, another rhythm much more rock’n roll communicates quite accurately another more active mood I remember experiencing. It was much inspired by anger and sadness. This has to do with Young Igor’s demise.

A noite pode ser doce e pode ser terrível.

A noite, a lua, a cidade e o mar roncando conjugam-se.

Como as músicas, a de Vasco Martins, Eleventh Moon (November) In Twelve moons e a de Jeff Beck, Dirty Minds.