Since my youth I have always moved from home and city more than twenty times. One of those times I went to live in the childhood home of a great friend, in Barcelona. Her family had lived on the third floor of a great modernist building for more than 70 years. Her mother, Ascensión, lived alone 20 years ago: her husband had passed away and her daughters had already started their own families. Ascensión, with 97 years old, must to move into a nursing home. I never knew Ascensión personally, but I always knew about her from her daughter's stories.
I lived in this house for a time, when I got married, and I myself helped to collect her belongings, her letters, her clothes, to remove all her furniture. During this process, from listening to the stories of this place, from knowing all its corners, I was taking photos with my analog camera: photos of the spaces, of his memories, of the antique furniture, of the multitude of photos and letters still kept in the closet and that were addressed to her postal mail: 08011.
They are self-portraits of my inclusion in this place, it is the convergence point of Ascensión's departure and my arrival in this new home, still full of her memories.