This textual content is taken from Return to Mexico, Journeys Past the Masks: ‘The village is mad with warmth. Males, beasts, timber, shacks, cacti – they’re all immobile, suspended in a diaphanous haze. All the things appears to be floating, hallucinated. The dry season is ending, and each afternoon, we’re engulfed in a mud storm. I’ll by no means be as scorching as this tenth return … I do know that that is the final time.’ Purchase this print

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