Valencia is the third city in Spain…it is a port city in the southeast coast of the Iberian peninsula…almost 800.000 souls live in this city…it was founded by the Romans in 132 B. C. and was named Valentia Edetanorum…in the year A. D. 711 the Muslims conquered the city and in 1238, King Jaume I of Aragon reconquered the city. Pope Gregory IX gave the reconquest the status of a cruzade and King Jaume was known as a Catholic King.
The “Kingdom of Valencia”, was established in 1238 by Jaume I as a part of the Crown of Aragon. Phillip V of Spain dissolved the kingdom in 1707.
El Cid, Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar, born 1043, died 10 July 1099, ruled Valencia from 1094 until his death in 1099. His wife, Jimena Diaz ruled after him. It is possible that El Cid died during the siege of Valencia by the Almoravids. By 1102 they had taken the city. Jimena left the city in 1101 and took the body of El Cid to be re-buried in the Burgos Cathedral. Babieca, his warhorse was buried with him.
The Coat of Arms of the Aragonese Monarchs marked the time when the city became, once again a Christian city and a future part of the Kingdom of Spain.
Valencia has a long history and beautiful places…
If you liked these words and pictures, please do not forget to hit that like button, to share and to follow…I also would love hearing from you, if you have come to Valencia or if you are from Valencia.
For more of my artwork, please follow me on Instagram @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera and to see my 2019 “JaZzArt en Valencia” collection, please visit http://www.ArtPal.com/rfbravo1155
All images are the property of Francisco Bravo Cabrera (FBC) and cannot be copied or reproduced without written consent. All images C.2019, All Rights Reserved, Derechos Reservados.
¿Que necesitamos para hacer un mundo mejor? ¿Que nos falta? ¿Como comenzar? Pues primero pienso que nos hace falta tener mas tolerancia…
La tolerancia creo que es un ingrediente principal para construir un mundo mejor…
Estoy harto de las intolerancias…un rojo no soporta a uno que no lo es y por eso le dice facha, lo increpa, lo rechaza, lo convierte en el demonio y así lo hace el del otro lado con el que supone rojo, y esto, ojo, es solo un ejemplo…no se tolera al negro, al chino, al del medio oriente, y vice versa, por supuesto…no se toleran a immigrantes, a refugiados o a los extranjeros…esto no puede seguir así…
La política, que debería ser cosa que une, pues es el poder del “polis” o sea del pueblo, resulta ser que nos desune, nos separa, crea enormes diferencias entre la gente y grandes problemas y no nos sirve para crear un mundo mejor, al contrario, nos está destruyendo el que tenemos…hay que superar este atrazo y desarrollar algo nuevo, algo que sirva y no cueste tanto…
Pues venga, la tolerancia la coloco en primer lugar, y ¿que más?
Claro, estan los valores mas fuertes, típicamente relacionados con valores cristianos, pero muy importantes que son, cosas como el amor, la caridad, la hermandad, la idea del prójimo et cetera et cetera…
¿Que pensaís de estos?
Hay que separarse un poco de uno mísmo y considerar que hay otros a nuestro derredor que necesitan, no solo currar, comer y vivir decentemente, pero también ser considerados como seres humanos, son el prójimo que merecen nuestra comprensión y aceptación…
La sociedad no es nuestra…
La nación tampoco…
El mundo, la orbe donde vivímos no nos pertenece ni la hemos creado…es para todos…las fronteras son barreras, un mal necesario para, supuestamente, mantener el orden, pero no podemos dejar que se interpongan cuando nos tratamos entre nos, entre humanos…
Acordad que llueve sobre todos, buenos y malos, ciudadanos y extranjeros, conocidos y forasteros y…
No hay gente en el mundo ilegal…
¿Que pensaís vosotros?
Dejadme vuestros comentarios…seguid el blog…compartidlo también y mil gracias…
contactadme por Instagram @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera
In the Antalya province of Turkey, which is in the Mediterranean, is the small Turkish city of Demre. However, its history goes very far back to the Fourth Century before Christ when it was the Greek city of Myra. From then it was transformed to a Roman city…St. Paul changed ships there en route to Rome…then Byzantine, later the Ottoman Greek city of Lycia and the small Turkish town of Kale. The name was changed to Demre in 2005.
In 325 A.D., Lycia became a Roman province and Myra became its capital. As the Metropolitan See of the province, it was the home of the bishop and the bishop at that time was none other than Saint Nicholas. He was one of the fathers of the First Council of Nicaea in that same year.
Saint Nicholas of Myra (15 March 270 – 6 December 342), who is known as Nicholas of Bari and, because of the many miracles attributed to him, as Nicholas the Wonderworker. He is the patron saint of sailors, repentant thieves, brewers, children, merchants,archers, and students in Europe. But his lovely habit of secretly giving gifts, has created the idea of the Santa Claus, or Saint Nick.
The ancient Greek sarcophagus of marble was used to bury St. Nicholas but his bones were stolen in 1087 by merchants and taken to Bari, to the Basiliaca of St. Nicholas. The Church gained permission in 2007 from the Turkish authorities to celebrate the Divine Liturgy. This was the first time in many centuries.
A famous site in Myra are the rock-cut tombs. Many of them are situated above the theatre and more on the east side in a place called the river necropolis. Some of them have carvings depicting the everyday life of the person buried.
In 1840, discoverer of the city, Charles Fellows said he found the tombs painted red, blue and yellow.
Antalya is the fastest growing city in Turkey. Because of its combination of great beaches and traditional Turkish customs.
Antalya was originally named Attaleia (Ἀττάλεια). The King of Pergamon, Attalos founded the city and gave it his name. In Greek today it still bears this name. In Turkish it was first Adalia and then Antalya.
To visit, Antalya is a great summer destination. With more than 300 days a year with sun, and shielded by the Taurus mountains from the northerly winds, the climate is hot, dry and wonderful for water sports, swimming and for exploring the interesting places, such as Myra, which are close by.
I visited there in 2005 and loved the experience. I flew from Istanbul to Bodrum and drove south. The motorways are very good and safe and there are many rest stops, restaurants and accommodations along the way. Another alternative is to arrive to Istanbul and then take a direct flight to Antalya.
La Virgen de los Desamparados es la Patrona de Valencia, llamada la Jorobadita por su leve inclinación de la cabeza. Cada segundo domingo de mayo se celebra el traslado de la Virgen de los Desamparados. La Madre de Dios, Geperudeta (en valenciano), mas bella que la belleza, mas pura que el mar que besa nuestras arenas, la madre de Valencia, de todos y de Dios.
Al fondo de la Calle Caballeros se encuentra la Plaza de la Virgen y la Basilica de la Geperudeta…
La Plaza de la Virgen es lugar de ocio rodeado de bares y heladerías y centro para las fiestas de nuestra patrona.
La Plaza de la Virgen es el punto de origen de la ciudad de Valencia. Su fuente, fue creada por el escultor Manuel Silvestre Montesinos, también conocido como Silvestre de Edeta. La fuente, que fue inagurada en 1976, es también conocida como la fuente de las ocho acequias del Turia. Se encuentra enfrente de la puerta de los Apóstoles. Esta rodeada de ocho mujeres jóvenes, desnudas y que llevan peineta y peinado de labradora valenciana y que vierten cántaros del agua en la fuente.
En el centro de la fuente, en una taza de mármol y colocado sobre un pedestal vemos al hombre que representa el Río Turia. Tiene en sus manos el cuerno de Amaltea, (cuerno de la abundancia). Del cuerno proceden los frutos de la huerta de Valencia. Las mujeres representan las ocho acequias del Turia: Benager, Faitanar, Rovella, Favara, Quart, Tormos, Rascanya, Mislata y Mestalla. Aunque lo piensen algunos, el hombre no es Neptuno…
La Basilica de Nuestra Señora de los Desamparados y la Plaza de La Virgen fueron y son lugares especiales para mi. Desde que llegué a Valencia los visito casi a diario. A veces me siento a disfrutar un helado o simplemente a ver lo que acontece en la plaza. Siempre hay algo diferente y aun en los días donde no hay nada, la plaza desolada da abundante razones para admirarla.
Dento de la basilica siempre hay gente. No hay que dudar que es atracción tanto para los turistas como para los devotos. Yo en ella entro, me siento y admiro la belleza de su interior y encuentro paz…
Los muchos que vienen a visitar la Basilica, entran con mucho respeto y guardan el silencio. Yo me siento muy a gusto, tranquilo, meditando, pensando, orando y a veces se me van los ojos a la cúpula, que es una belleza de planta ovalada de 18,75 metros de anchura, pues me fascinan tambien los frescos de Antonio Palomino de la bóveda.
En la Basilica estoy con la Madre de Dios y tambien con la grata compañía de santos y santas que se encuentran albergados en los pilares. Me uno en pensamiento al gran fundador de la Compañía de Jesús, (los Jesuitas), San Ignacio de Loyola que tiene en sus manos un libro abierto con el lema “Ad maiorem Dei gloriam”, el lema A. M. D. G. que significa “a mayor gloria divina», o “a la mayor gloria de Dios”. Cerca está Santa Bárbara, virgen y mártir portando la Santa Custodia, San Francisco de Paula fundador de los mínimos y San Juan Evangelista que lleva una pluma y el evangelio. Son todas obras de Ignacio Vergara hechas en el siglo XVIII.
Hay una escultura mas que representa a San José de Calasanz, junto a muchos niños. El santo fue fundador de la Orden de los Escolapios. Es obra del escultor valenciano Francisco Gutierrez Frechina ( né Sueca, 19/11/1908, mort 14/09/1950) hecha en 1949.
Siempre supe que Valencia era una gran ciudad, pero hasta que mis pies manchegos no pisaron sus bellas calles y mis pulmones se llenaron del aire puro valenciano no supe lo tanto que verdaderamente es Valencia. No en balde se fundó esta ciudad en un lugar santo como la Plaza de la Virgen, pues la Geperudeta es la madre que ampara a los mas debiles, a los mas necesitados, y a los mas marginados por la sociedad, a los desamparados. Y pienso yo si acaso no somos a veces todos nosotros parte de ese enorme grupo, y como a veces siento la necesidad de un abrazo materno, acudo siempre a ella…
Sóc un artista que viu i treballa a Valencia. Si voleu veure la meva obra, us convido al meu Instagram: @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera i a la meva col·lecció titulada “JaZzArt en Valencia” anant al http://www.ArtPal.com/rfbravo1155
This poem carries a video clip I recorded a few years ago. It is a ten minute meditation that you can do as you watch the sun slowly rising over the Aegean waters. The soundtrack is from a CD I made called “Silencios” (Silences). The poem was inspired by the thoughts that the rising sun brought to my mind.
I become the first rays as the sun peeks above the mountain.
The first rays to light the sky
As seagulls fly.
I accompany the light breeze that gently caresses the surface of the waters far below,
I am the glow.
I am the essence of the yellow ball,
I am the call that awakens nature,
I am that yellow flow of heaven that peeks into your sleepy eyes. And you, with a great effort, you force them to open. You will them to see. You recognise my face,
for now I rule your space…
I am the brother of the Moon,
The son of Mother Earth.
I travel on the ancient roads
paved above existence,
and I circle with my wings of fire
the place that you call home, the careful life you live.
I heat the air you breathe.
I have built highways where you’ve paved your trails, and fountains where you’ve dug your graves,
I’ve known you from your birth,
Above my private mountain, I sail daily ’round the Earth.
“The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men.”
Mamma, all around me I witness those who hate, They say we're black, they say we're brown, they call us filthy names. I see and hear how callously they rule for their self-gain, And how they treasure for themselves the good things that we make...
“Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children.”
I’ve seen the ones that teach and guide us killed in the pouring rain, Their path cut down, their house in ruins, their life now filled with pain, I’ve seen the ones that seek redemption shackled and chained To filthy walls, in iron cages, what sins have they to pay...
“And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers.”
I know, mamma, the time is coming, the day is near For our suffering to end, And justice from the highest sphere will Fall like rocks from heaven upon these evil men, I know, mamma, they’ll get their share, Every measure, counted well And we will smile, and we will have A new story to tell...
“And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee."
Where I live there are no ice cream parlours, no snack bars on the beach, no fast food on the harbours. Where I live the food is nasty, hard to eat, the water tastes like piss, the fruits smell like sewer rats that before you bear their teeth.
Where I sleep the air is not conditioned cool, or warmer during frozen days. My mattress is a cardboard box, I'm up as soon as I feel the first of that yellow ball's rays. My breakfast, in the dumpster on Eighth Avenue and Fifty Seventh Street, If I can find anything after all my neighbours eat, 'cause they're bigger and they're meaner and they never let me pass, I guess when I turn ten or twelve I'll get something at last.
Yes, I'm from right here, Manhattan, Midtown, but I was born in the Bronx, and when I was just a baby my mother crossed the river and New York's been my home. My mom? Lying in an alley, just west of Ninth and Forty Second Street. She's been there for a whole day, can't rouse her from that sleep. But I don't care, I never knew her well, she brought me to this island city where the devil seems to dwell.
I was remembering a song by the Beatles, that Paul wrote and sang that started like this: “Ah, look at all the lonely people, where do they all come from? Where do they all belong?” The song, “Eleanor Rigby”, was released as a double A-side single with “Yellow Submarine,” in August of 1966. Both are from the album Revolver.
The song is about two lonely people, Eleanor, an old woman who exists in a world of her own, population one. Her main purpose in life is nothingness. She “picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been.” The other is the priest, Father McKenzie, who preaches in an empty church and whose sermons “no one will hear.” Eleanor dies and he buries the old woman. To her funeral, nobody came, just him, seemingly caring little for the lonely people, “he walks from the grave.”
“No one was saved, all the lonely people, where do they all come from, all the lonely people, where do they all belong.” The cycle of life and death among the “lonely people” simply begins again…
What do you think? As an artist, I encourage all others engaged in the creative arts, or not, to get involved. This is our world, this is our problem. I have been focusing on two very serious conditions found in the world today, mainly poverty and the plight of immigrants. I think that if we all do our part, we can begin to change things, even if we have to do it helping only one person at a time. That is one less. It’s worth the effort.
If you agree, please share, comment and hit that like button. Let’s discuss these topics. Whoever said that topics such as politics and religion…or others also considered polemic…should not be discussed was lying. Such topics should be the source of discussions and conversations perpetually on everyone’s agenda. Of course, only through civilised discussions, no fights, no argumentum ad hominem, let us argue only the facts.
You can see my artwork…like the one above…drawings and paintings, on my Instagram, @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera and my online galleries, featuring my 2019 collection, “JaZzArt en Valencia” at http://www.ArtPal.com/rfbravo1155 (you can browse, you need not purchase anything)
Although I live in a city where not too many homeless people roam the streets or sleep on the beaches, church plazas and parks, we still have our share of those who do live under the naked sky. The homeless condition is, of course, global. In Europe it is growing. I don’t think governments exert much efforts to reintegrate these often maligned unfortunates back into the work force or try to find ways to turn them into productive members of their communities. So the homeless do what they can. They know that surviving on the streets is a matter of luck. It’s a Russian roulette they must spin every day as many dangers abound. Yet, if we should even take the time to notice them, it’s only for a few minutes and then we forget them.
They are invisible to almost everybody. Hardly anyone notices…or gives a second thought to…these people. But they are also part of our society. And a part of you, for we all share the same DNA. You see them when you are about to enter a church. You cannot ignore them for they are right in front of your path. Your eyes meet and you feel a certain strange sensation. Is it pity? Perhaps that drives you to reach into your pocket or purse and give the homeless beggar your change. And you wonder, have I done enough? You comfort yourself inside and thank God for your family, for yourself.
As you walk through the busy streets downtown you focus on your problems, your plans for the day and on the million things that you have to do. You try to ignore those who are living on the very sidewalks you’re walking on. And you know they are there. The homeless crowd the corners of your eyes. You finally take a look and wonder who these people were at another time in their lives. Where they always so poor? Did they loose everything? Why are they here? Why did they pick this corner, or that alley? It’s an uncomfortable feeling because that leads to wondering if that guy or that old lady could be me one day? Then you quickly push the thought aside and focus again on everything else that’s really important to you.
These pictures are from Valencia, Spain, where I live. I don’t believe these people are invisible. I think that although most of these homeless people that live in our streets are foreigners, they arrived in Europe with hopes and dreams. Yet something happened. I don’t know their stories but I plan at least, to document their existence in pictures. This is the first of a series.
If you like this topic, or others like the ones I write…and illustrate…about, please like, follow and share. And of course, please leave a comment. If you find this issue important, I do too, let us start a discussion on such social issues of pertinence.
I am an artist living and working in Valencia, Spain. If you would like to get to know my artwork better, (paintings and drawings), please go to my Instagram @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera and to see my new 2019 collection titled “JaZzArt en Valencia” you can visit…browse only, no need to purchase…my online galleries at http://www.ArtPal.com/rfbravo1155