Eva Ranea

Evangelina Ranea Sierra. (Madrid, 1953)

Degree in History and Geography (UCM), Diploma in Library Science and Documentation. Master in Museology (UAH).

She began her career as head of the Miguel Hernández Municipal Library (Huelva).

In Cantabria, as a Career Official, she has worked in Documentation and Heritage and Cultural Management in the Museums of Prehistory and Archeology (MUPAC), Maritime (MMC) and Ethnographic (METCAN) of which she was Director.

For ten years she participated in the Technical Commission for Library Cooperation (CCTB) of the Ministry of Culture representing Cantabria in it.

In 2020, she finished her active service in the working life as General Director of Culture of the Government of Cantabria, where she assumed representative functions in the Boards of Trustees of the National Library and the Gerardo Diego Foundation, and responsibility in cultural management: artistic exhibitions, theater, cinema, libraries, museums, cultural centers, in addition to the recovery and conservation of the Cantabrian Heritage.

Four geraniums and 20 words (Traces - 02/2023)

Reunited in Nature (Magdalena Park, Santander city, in the morning)

I return to the chosen place, it is early and a light humid mist covers the sea despite the sun.

I lean out and sit down to observe (I try to make the place my own and see what it tells me with all the relational connotations that communication with my mother has for me).

I feel the uncomfortable humidity in my body and I look out over the cliff-calm sea- However, the sea causes me some restlessness, and the precipice does not provide me with comfort.

Moments from the past arise, from my life with my mother, memories, not always placid.

The sea begins to agitate, a breeze rises and the waves comb the eroded surface of the bottom of the rocks with their foam, they rise and fall, the rocks shine like mirrors.

The sun begins to heat up and lifts the mist. An image comes to me: the windows of my house with the flowers always from my mother. The precipice becomes a large window, a balcony overlooking the sea... What if I plant flowers there? …the feeling of fear, the vertigo, the restlessness are then attenuated.

The place becomes my house, a house in nature, I leave my window and enter the room where the protagonist is THE Tamarind.

His old appearance, rough, full of holes, his false appearance of fragility in the face of the wind, the storms, the humid vapors, takes me away. Its bare and ethereal branches.

The sound of the waves gets stronger and stronger…I left the window open. I sit on the tamarind trunk and feel its strength, its roots, its consistency. I feel safe in this natural chair. Comforted, ready for conversation.

I look at the sky, blue, I observe it between the small branches and little by little with the marine music in the background, I see WORDS fall, they intersect slowly, stealthily, without altering the moment at all, they float in the wind and settle gently on some branches.

Words, words, words: Calm, tenderness, look, observe, shock, naivety, calm, smile, pretty, young lady, good, I'm cold, books, music, life, daughter, letters, write to me, tell me, eldest, pretty, and more and more and many more- FALL and stay SPEAK

I look out the window, it already has flowers, flowers and words in the music of the sea COMMUNICATION.

Four geraniums and 20 words

Breeze, waves,

an island, white the horizon.

There the cliff

where, at last, you were nature.

A conversation…

Fear…ocean foam

glides in smooth motion,

rocky mirror…

At the top, four flowers,

Red Green,