JAVIER SANCHEZP Ilustración & Diseño

KUNUK AND AARLUK, THE GREAT KILLER WHALE It was a beautiful morning of spring in Nunavut, the land of the inuik in the north of Canada, when the young person inuk Kunuk and his father the great hunter Ituko went out to the exterior sea, to the hunt for the walruses, in his kayaks. It was a midday, when father and son came to a channel surrounded with big and high icebergs.  The whole world knows that it is not possible to hunt by night, because Amarok, the spirit of the wolf, devours the one who dares to do it. Suddenly, Aarluk, the great killer whale, emerged of the water with an enormous jump  and looking at them fixedly it returned to submerge in the chill waters. Everything had happened in brief minutes. The two inuik, steeped up to the bones and even not recovered of the surprise, but contentments for preserving his lives, said a prayer to Qailertetang, protective of the fishermen and hunters for having saved them. -Aarluk, there has excused us father. - this way he is a so

KUNUK Y AARLUK, LA GRAN ORCA Era una hermosa mañana de primavera en Nunavut, la tierra de los inuik en el norte de Canadá, cuando el joven inuk Kunuk y su padre el gran cazador Ituko salieron al mar exterior, a la caza de las morsas, en sus kayaks. Era mediodía, cuando padre e hijo llegaron a un canal rodeado de grandes y altos icebergs. Todo el mundo sabe que no se puede cazar de noche, porque Amarok, el espíritu del lobo, devora a quien se atreve a hacerlo. De pronto, Aarluk, la gran orca, emergió del agua con un  enorme salto y mirándoles fijamente volvió a sumergirse en las gélidas aguas. Todo había sucedido en breves minutos. Los dos inuik,  empapados  hasta los huesos y aun no recuperados de la sorpresa,  pero  contentos por conservar sus vidas, rezaron una plegaria a Qailertetang, protectora de los pescadores y cazadores por  haberlos salvados. -Aarluk, nos ha perdonado padre. -Así es hijo. El es justo y sabe que Ituko y su tribu, s

LES CINQ SENS Pas à pas, j'apporte ma main à ton visage. Je te caresse, dessine tes lèvres et je m'imprègne de ton humiditè sensuelle... Pas à pas, je regarde tes yeux, grands et beaux, profond et intense, une porte à ton âme... Pas à pas, je sens ton parfum. Cette odeur de femme ça enveloppe mes sens et augmenter la température de ma passion... Pas à pas, je marche avec ma langue l'architecture de ton corps comme s'il était un sculpteur de vos courbes, un peintre de ta peau. Un millier de saveurs qui se pressent dans l'histoire de ma vie. Doux souvenirs, larmes salées, moments amers... Pas à pas, j'entends ta voix qui m'apelle, qui me demande de l'aide, qui dit qu'il m'aime j'entends ta voix, ça me reproche, qui me pardonne... Je te caresse, je te regarde, je te sens, je te goûte, je t'entends... Cinq sens, cela forme la femme que ye veux, que j'aime Javier Sánchez

The five senses Step by Step, I bring my hand to your face. I caress you, drawing your lips and I impregnate myself with your sensual humidity ... Step by Step, I look at your eyes, great and beautiful, deep and intense, a door to your soul ... Step by Step, I smell your perfume. That smell of female that envelops my senses and raise the temperature of my passion ... Step by Step, I walk with my tongue the architecture of your body as if he were a sculptor of your curves, a painter of your skin. A thousand flavors that crowd in the history of my life. Sweet memories, salty tears, bitter moments ... Step by Step, I hear your voice who calls me, who asks me for help, who says he loves me I hear your voice, that reproaches me, who forgives me ... I caress you, I look at you, I smell you, I taste you, I hear you ... Five senses that form the woman that I want, that I love. Javier Sánc

Eternal lover's sheets White sheets that wrap your nake body. White sheets which folds,  they play to the hiding place with your skin. This skin for that my hands look,  they cross... These hands, which they wrap, that caress,  that whisper,  that they love... White sheets of you will wake up beautiful, white sheets of eternal lover. Javier Sánchez The way of the loneliness  I walk down a dark street, of long shadows, Now alone, sad. The rain wet me and its drops, cold, mold my face. Drops, that join my tears. Tears, they remind you. that oppress my soul. I walk down a dark street, of long shadows and your image invades my mind. I remember your lips, soft at times, always burning, going through my body, span to span, hollow to hollow ... I remember your smell of a female, filling my senses ... But now... you're just a dream, a cursed dream that hits my he