2008. Spain. The bull. The bullfighter. The Virgin tattooed on his chest. The glare of the sequins on the costumes. The cape. The walk between the stands clapping. Carnations and blankets. A clarion call. The bullfighter excecutes his “luck” decked with gold and silver. The “silver bullfighters” in the second third. The dance of the bull and the bullfighter within the tempo of the “pasodoble”. The steel under the crutch. The color of blood in the sand. The movement of handkerchief in the terraces. Trophies. It is the deep Spain immersed in this ancestral ritual transformed in an ephemeral manifestation. As if it were a painting by Goya, because many of his paintings, as in the bullfighting, we found something that makes us almost gods of feelings, strange feelings of bullfights, where is mixed the tragic liturgical of death, beauty and eroticism over the sand.