After long hours at Reina Sofia museum time for going to Outer Space. It’s called NuBel and it makes you wonderfully dizzy. Or, better, go there just before the museum - drink some wine and go to admire Guernica in 3D.
Hey ho, my name is Jo.
I’m an illustrator based in Wroclaw, Poland, collaborating with the clients around the world, such as The Guardian, ELLE Italia or Opéra National de Paris.
Can’t live without traveling, palm trees and prosecco.
There cannot be anything as charismatic as a bookstore –librería– in a street called Libreros –booksellers–. Graphic Book is a charming place where you can buy books and magazines on design, advertising, illustration, fashion or photography. Ideal for searching what you cannot find in (almost) any other bookstore in Madrid.
Many days of my life have ended in this legendary club of Madrid’s nightlife. Darkness, fine music and funny people in the neighbourhood of Malasaña. I don’t go so often anymore, but I like to stop by when there is a good concert on.
For those who like looking without truly seeing, walking without thinking and see themselves as mere useful cogs - benches are, in fact, useless objects in a big city. However, for many Spanish people, benches are the last paradise for contemplation and hope in places where there is no time for such 'waste'. Benches are an invitation to stop. They are a place to turn our backs to cars, buses and motorbikes and watch inwards. Benches take us to invisible places inside our heads. They help us watch passers-by as if we are watching a movie. A movie featuring real, everyday characters. And those sitting are actors as well. They become both audience to and player in a huge live theatre. The drama is built frame by frame, minute by minute. This is the way that life passes for those who contemplate the invisible. The bench helps us to look outwards to the city and inwards to ourselves, and to watch the great cinema that is the city. And a city like Madrid is full of amazing stories.
foto by Eneida Serrano