Spanish based business trying to attract UK clients #madeinbritain

There are inherent problems with writing content for websites that are not written in your native tongue – how do you know what to say? 

The language you decide to communicate your thoughts and product details in on a web based medium must be of a standard that enables the viewer to understand what you are trying to say. Human language is highly complex and is based on a set of rules where symbols, expression and sound have meaning. Business keywords are simply created by creating an infinite number of possible descriptions from a combination of different expressive elements. 

The image above was taken in Lanzarote using a Pentax P30, 35mm film camera, which uses manual focus lenses with the K-mount bayonet fitting. The lens used to take this photograph was a Rikenon 1:2 50mm, which was originally off a Richo KR-10 (super). At about 510 grams, the camera is easy to carry and handle and has shutter speeds from 1/1000 of a second to 1 second. The automatic mode on this film camera chooses the best shutter speed and aperture setting, giving the novice photographer a better chance of taking a good photograph. It also has a semi-automatic mode as well, which chooses most of the settings but allows for more creativity. There is also a totally manual setting for the brave. 

The film used was Fujicolor C200, a budget-priced film (expire date April 2014) processed in Barnstaple. The negatives were scanned using an Ion Pics 2 SD. 

La semilla de la pieza proviene de un viaje a Miami durante un huracán: una ciudad paralizada. Sonoramente, la pista se siente como un exhalar frío. Electrónica escasa, un pulso lento, texturas que suenan como si fueran levantadas de concreto húmedo. Es el clásico This Window: minimalista, documental, sin adornos. La producción no dramatiza el tema, lo observa. Escucha. Deja espacio para que el oyente se siente con la incomodidad en lugar de escapar de ella.

Esta pieza sonora arqueológica se compone de material grabado en casete en 1995 y reinterpretado en 2026. Se centra en la experiencia de quedar atrapado en los márgenes de un huracán en Miami, un momento en que la metrópolis se paralizó de forma inquietante. Una melancolía se apoderó de la ciudad. El único movimiento provenía de los coches de policía que rompían el silencio, con sus sirenas resonando entre los edificios mientras las bandas exteriores de la tormenta pulsaban cada cuarenta minutos. Emisoras de radio lejanas anunciaban las noticias, mezcladas como en una licuadora, ritmos inaudibles y sin sentido: una cacofonía. Bajo los pasos elevados, se congregaban las personas sin hogar: los desaliñados, los marginados, los desempleados. Formaban una frágil comunidad en las sombras del hormigón mientras el viento azotaba la ciudad, a la espera de lo que traería la siguiente oleada.

Homeless Under a Bridge forms part of III Convocatoria Internacional Morada Sónica 2026: Escuchas para una Ciudad Mecánica, a wide‑ranging international project that invites artists to rethink the modern city as a living, grinding, malfunctioning machine. Within this framework, This Window’s contribution becomes more than a standalone track — it becomes a sonic document of urban neglect, a dispatch from the underside of the mechanical metropolis. The piece channels an observational intensity born from a hurricane‑struck trip to Miami: the way infrastructure groans under pressure, the way the most vulnerable are pushed into the literal gaps of the city, the way a bridge becomes both shelter and indictment. In the context of Morada Sónica’s call for listening practices that expose the hidden rhythms of urban life, This Window’s work stands as a stark reminder that the city’s machinery is not just steel and concrete — it is also the bodies it forgets.