¿Que nos hace falta para construir un mundo mejor?

¿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

The Hands of God that…

(Foto by FBC C.2019 Derechos Reservados)


The hands of God that made me,
intolerant and strong,
intolerant of ignorance
and strong to fight alone,
to fight against the hatred
that's like a gathering storm,
The hands of God have made me,
The hands of God are warm...

The hands of God have made me,
as they have made the Earth,
the skies above,
the sea below,
it all came from one birth.

One birth to make all those who live,
fully understand,
the Human Race,
redeemed by grace,
is made of many forms,
of many colours, of many shapes,
with different rhythms that set the pace,
for every one to walk their path
in peace and in full knowledge,
that we are all the same,
from Heaven we came
and to love is our true calling.

C.2019 Derechos Reservados

I wanted to write a poem, not a religious poem but a realistic one about the way people are treating each other. In these days I see a tremendous amount of intolerance, prejudice, hatred, bigotry and anger among people. I think it is due to ignorance and that is something that can be remedied.

I am quite angered by politicians and people who have a voice that is heard, that instead of trying to unite people what they are doing is creating more divisiveness and hatred among the varied and different groups that form our countries, communities and neighbourhoods. If these same politicians would emphasise our similarities and would attempt to facilitate our getting to know one another better, we would have a much better world.

I have also noticed that recently, here in Europe but in America as well, people are very preoccupied with climate change. I am too, but, it is not the only pressing problem facing our countries and our lives today. I find that the disintegration of our societies due to racism, intolerance, prejudices and bigotry might just finish us off much sooner than the rising seas. Of course without taking away the importance of being aware of and trying to do something about climate change.

In any event, I just wanted to say something about it and the best way I could put it was in spiritual terms, somewhat, because I do not make a very great distinction between spirituality and reality. What I mean is that you do not have to be a monk, priest, imam or rabbi to be spiritual. God is an equal opportunity employer and creator.

And I beg the pardon of those who are aetheists but being that we live in a world which mostly believes in God, in one manner or another, I will make no apologies for acknowledging that the lessons, held in the holy books, if followed, even at only 10%, can make life much better and each other much more tolerable.

What I think about aetheism is resumed in an anecdote that supposedly happened when someone asked Soviet Premier Nikita Jruschov if he believed in God and he replied saying, “I am an aetheist and God knows it.” Aetheism is a position taken, it is not a philosophy or a belief system as you cannot deny what you believe does not exist.

Photographs are property of FBC, owner, and cannot be reproduced or copied without the expressed written permission of the owner.

If you would like to see my artwork please follow me on Instagram:





I’ve, I’m, I’ll…

(Foto property of FBC)
I've frozen all my wishes,
I've given up on hoping,
I've given all I've ever owned,
to charity,
'Cause there's water behind me,
and much, much more before me.
I don't know how to cross it,
I don't know how to swim...

I'm not a winged angel,
I'm not the devil's step child,
I'm not even a monster
made to disturb your dreams.
I'm made of pyrotechnics,
of plasticine and walnuts,
I am I was I will be,
forever what I've seen.

If you will ever recite to me my story, and tell me the things that you recall I did, like the legend of the fearless man, that laughed at fame and glory, I will never admit it, no, that I won't admit...

I will deny the dreams,
I will deny the mornings,
I will deny even the things I know I did,
I'll never take the credit,
nor blame for this sad story,
I am just an observer,
I've never really been...

C.2019 (Derechos Reservados)
(All photographs, music and text are property of FBC and cannot be reproduced without the expressed written permission of the owner)

Instagram @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

Turkey, Ancient Myra and Modern Antalya

(Amphitheatre of Myra)

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.

(Lycian tombs in Myra)

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.

Church of St. Nicholas, Myra. In the 4th c. A.D., a bishop named Nicholas  (aka Nicholas the Wondermaker, was a native Lycian of Greek descent)  transformed the city of Myra, on the Mediterranean coast of what is now Turkey, into a Christian capital. Until a recent Byzantine chapel was unearthed, the sole remnant of Myra’s Byzantine era was the Church of St. Nicholas that was 1st built in the 5th century A.D. and reconstructed.
(Church of St. Nicholas from the 8th Century)
(Here I am outside the Church of St. Nicholas with statue)
(Tomb of Saint Nicholas-Photo by Sjoehest)

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.

(Ancient ruins in Myra as you enter the Amphitheatre)
(Ancient ruins in Myra entrance to Amphitheatre in detail)
(Carved masks at the Amphitheatre of Myra)

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.

(rock cut tombs above the Theatre)

In 1840, discoverer of the city, Charles Fellows said he found the tombs painted red, blue and yellow.

(Rock cut tombs on the west side of Myra from 4th Century B.C.)

Antalya is the fastest growing city in Turkey. Because of its combination of great beaches and traditional Turkish customs.

(Beach club in Antalya on the Mediterranean Sea)

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.


Please follow my art work in Instagram @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera and my online galleries at http://www.ArtPal.com/rfbravo1155

Where the Houses are Broken…

(Street scene in Old Havana)

And the wind has no air…

where the walls speak of times of despair.

I look but not for very long…

Broken glass and shattered dreams abound,

and in the distance a song,

that vanishes beneath the street.

Five hundred years of history…

Five hundred tons of gold,

Five times the price of ivory

and of jewelry of old,

You were once worth…

But the sweetness of the breeze

has long deserted this fair street

where once so many lived, I’m told…

Now the houses are all broken,

their ceilings on the ground,

and although there’s people here,

there’s nobody around…

Just ghosts dancing to the sounds

of trumpets, flutes and drums,

longing, longing, always longing

to be far, so far from home.


I wanted to paint a picture of the Havana that I saw when I visited Cuba back in 2015 with these few words. The old quarter of Havana, La Habana Vieja, is beautiful beyond compare but due to lack of maintenance, the old buildings are falling down. People live in cut up houses that had once been magnificent mansions. They pray that during the night the ceiling doesn’t come down upon them. It is a pity and left me saddened to see the way people live in Havana. Of course, these streets are far from the tourist sectors that the government has propped up to give a false impression of what Cuba really is. Now I find out that at nights there is no electricity in most of these old neighbourhoods of La Habana.

Reference the photograph above which I took in 2015. The gentleman selling newspapers is quite well known on Calle Obispo, the main tourist street in La Habana Vieja. He buys the papers for one centimo and sells them for two. He makes nothing. One hundred centimos is equal to one peso. It takes twenty three pesos to make one CUC (Cuban Unit Convertible, this is the only currency that can be traded in communist Cuba) and one CUC plus thirteen centimos CUC to make one US Dollar, (yes when you exchange US Dollars, they charge you a surcharge of 13%). Just to give you an idea of what someone earns in Cuba, retirees make 250,00 Cuban Pesos a month, which is less than $11 US Dollars…

This is the fault of the Cuban government. There is no blockade imposed by the United States. The US has in place a commercial embargo on the island but the Cuban government is free to negotiate with the rest of the world. The people are not suffering because of the embargo, they are suffering and poor because of their government. Recently the Chinese government gave the Cuban dictator, Raul Castro, a grant of close to two billion dollars and the Russians constantly reinforce his economy. And I say his economy because he is the only beneficiary. The people are poor because the communist government wants them that way. It is sad but it is the truth. I visited because I wanted to see some friends but I will not return. Returning only provides hard currency to the government. What you spend in Cuba does not help the ordinary folk.

Thank you for your patience and for your attention. If you have liked what you have read, please hit that like button, follow and share and comment, of course, let us start a discussion about the misconception and false information that exists about Cuba.


Instagram @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

Art is Red and Alive

Being able to create art is, naturally, one of the things that separate us from the other living things on Earth. This is true because art is something entirely human. Perhaps we think that other living things, or that nature, create art. We think so mostly because things like a colourful flower, a majestic olive tree…perhaps hundreds, if not thousands of years old…the seashore, the setting or rising sun, appear as breathtaking and quite lovely to our eyes and simulate something artistic. But art is not raw. Art is created, not as a natural occurring event or process but as a creative process that is governed by the will of the artist. Art is not random.

That is why when I see things called “art” in museums and galleries around the world that are obviously not crafted by the artistic will and talent of the artist, I cannot call them art. For example, a glass of water, half full or half empty, it matters little, placed in a museum or important art gallery is not art. Anyone can take a glass and pour water in it. It takes no special talent, not special training and no creativity.

Art is subterfuge, as Picasso always said. The message is transmitted directly from the painting to the observer. There is little need for further explanation. “Guernica,” considered one of the best paintings of the XXth Century, said it all without the need for the artist to explain his work to anybody. However, nowadays, when you go to museums or galleries…especially the ones that exhibit modern art…you have to read more explanations than ever before.

Art requires thought, creativity, effort, knowledge, training and most importantly, talent. The art of talent-less “artists” seems to be popping up everywhere and the worst thing is that it is being hailed as art and people are believing it. I say that critics, reviewers and gallerists, are not artists. Their opinion is simply that and they are not qualified to judge what is and what is not art. Their judgement is clouded by money for the major investors and collectors are paying huge sums for these works of “art” and of course they need for these “artists” to produce more so that they value of what they bought remains high.

When art is controlled by banks, which seem to be the new “patrons of the arts” and other corporate entities, real art loses value and the ridiculous rises to the top in an art world where a clothes hanger…like the one in your wardrobe…with a white sheet on it, is a work of art, worthy to be exhibited in such an important event as is Art Basel Miami Beach.

Art is a weapon. Art is communication. Art is a language. Art is spiritual expression. Art is war and Art is peace. Art is subterfuge. Art is complex and simple, but art is creativity, inspiration and always the fruit of talent.


Instagram @Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera (if you are curious to see my artwork) also at http://www.ArtPal.com/rfbravo1155

We all Share a Single Road

There are many ways but only one direction…

There are many thoughts but only one intention…

There are days to live and nights to die

And I’ve always wondered why…

The sea before me, at times all powerful

But yet benign,

provides the calmness that enters through my eyes

to soothe my spirit as she guides my wanderings through what we call life.

We all cross the sands to reach the water…

We all cross through dreams, happy the dreamer…

We all cry at times; at times we don’t bother…

The sea is the sand and the sand the border,

Of this road we call life.

Our future is our past and our present is eternity.

And thought the road seems rather narrow,

our footsteps fit somehow.

Whether its sand,

whether its the salty sea

or even high, high in the air,

The road is there, somewhere,

From one have all things come

And we’re all walking home.

A Path of Stones I walk























Far Away there is no Sun

I went out to the street one day,

to look, to smell, to breathe, to pray,

to reach out to a passing man and say,

friend can you show me the way,

because I come from far, so far away…

I went out to the fields one afternoon,

To look, to smell, to breathe, to roam

as if these fields were now my home,

as if this were where I belong,

Somewhere above, somewhere on top, or far below…

I walked out to a sandy beach,

my hands outstretched a wave did reach,

the salty spray, the salty air, the perfect niche,

where ions flow but never preach,

Yet in your spirit, body, soul you feel there’s peace…

The day seem endless,

the streets are empty,

the fields have faded,

the beach invaded,

and I feel slightly jaded,

The sun has not created

no, not a single ray,

and I have come from far,

from so far away.


“Sunrise over Ilica, Turkey August 2019”

The Sun is passing through the sky,

Eternal circle. It is morning.

His unending cycle reminds me that what is,

can also be, or seems to be just Life.

Recalling what I once remembered,

I forget the needless details

and forge new memories.

To recall is to forget,

and that too is a cycle endless and

a never ending stream springs from a single thought

perhaps part of a dream

that once recalled is immediately forgotten.

I awake and see the sun, he’s so

majestic, never rushes.

He takes his time to warm my bones,

to warm my seas, to make my green earth


And I wonder if the Sun will ever changes his course

and make the polar caps, silent neath their tears of icy white,

Become green gardens in some years.

The years that pass, as the sun is passing now, leaving my line of sight

to push aside, but with a gentle kiss, the moonlight night.