Lorca was born in 1898 in Fuente Vaqueros, a village in Granada. Andalusian to the core. Pianist, playwright, poet… but above all, a man of immense sensitivity. He possessed that rare blend of high culture and popular roots. He spoke of the duende, the moon, blood, desire, death…

A member of the Generation of '27, he moved in circles with Dalí, Buñuel, and all those brilliant figures of the time. He traveled to New York and wrote *Poet in New York*, a surrealist, dark, almost prophetic cry. Then there is the more tragic and rural Lorca: *Blood Wedding*, *Yerma*, *The House of Bernarda Alba*. Oppressed women, suppressed passion, honor, death. All incredibly intense. All truly alive.


And then there is the end. He was executed in 1936, at the beginning of the Civil War. He was 38 years old. It wasn't just a political assassination; it was also an attempt to silence a free, homosexual sensibility, uncomfortable for the most closed-minded Spain of his time. And that adds a brutal layer to his figure: he not only wrote about tragedy, he ended up within it.

After all this, comes the esoteric Lorca, the one I'm discovering right now thanks to the book I have in my hands. This book, *The Esoteric World of Federico García Lorca*, is an essay by Ismael Ramos, who compiles and analyzes the poet's forgotten drawings, in whose symbols we find concepts from Christian Gnosticism and ancient Hermeticism.

I hope it piques your curiosity, because it's not to be missed.

Just stopping by to introduce you to my favorite poet 🤩 (and show you my outfit)