In Arequipa’s white volcanic stone walls, we sometimes find color, and behind its facades, when we push open a door, we also discover passages that are a little more obscure, but terribly inviting. It was a little dog that caught my eye, and I wanted to take a photo of him – I often like to have a living element in the frame – but he went away too quickly, a lady passed by, and then I was left alone. The beautiful face with closed eyes painted on the corner of this wall said enough in the end. I find this place mysterious, and it’s easy to imagine that little dog again on this concrete floor, marked by the traces of the past, just as the boards of a theater stage have absorbed many stories. And who knows, who might emerge from the illuminated backstage?