He has an extraordinary natural talent for rhythm and a very fine sense of harmony. In fact, he even played bass with people from the Deià scene, linked to English punk, in groups like Sex Beatles. Who knows if it's because from a very young age he listened to music that didn't sound anywhere else on Mallorca: his older brother, Jaume, brought him the latest music records directly from London in the early 70s. The middle brother is Joan and the protagonist of these lines is the gallerist Xavier Fiol (Palma, 1962). He is brought to us by who would be, given the years they have known each other and the affection they have, the fourth brother: Ivan Albons.

A close person, with a smile that enchanted and shining eyes, eager for knowledge, for love, and for life. Very soon he began to play the guitar and to take an interest in music and songs. For him, there was no other path than music: “His father was already a musician, and his mother was called Cecilia, the patron saint of music.” Neus Ferrer says this, half-seriously and half-jokingly, highlighting the kindness of the character we are about to discover today: “When it got dark, he always accompanied me home. Over time, I discovered it was because he was very interested in my neighbor, Mercè, whom he eventually married.” Neus Ferrer’s lifelong friend is the musician and linguist from Ibiza, Isidor Marí (1949).

Once upon a time there was an island of deserted beaches and crystal-clear waters; with mountains to hike and find absolutely no one. It's hard to imagine, but once, in the Palma bullring, there were only low buildings and vacant lots, and adventurous 12 and 13-year-old pre-teens who went camping alone on the other side of Mallorca. Nowadays, in fact, camping on the island is strictly forbidden. But those days existed, and that island, when kids wanted to dance and dress like Elvis Presley, and The Beatles had all their dreams to fulfill. Today's protagonist "wanted to be the Mallorcan Peter Fonda", was "a very good racetrack rider (motorsport discipline) and had a childhood "tied to the street and nature". He is Xavier Pastor (Palma, 1950), one of the great references of environmentalism in the Balearic Islands, and a childhood friend and lifelong friend, Santiago Bonnín, tells us about him.

It's made of Umberto Tozzi. But let's go back: she was born in a house of onions, so she had to be an onion, yes or yes. From a very young age she showed interest in drawing and today it is her way of "unfolding". She played with Nancys, but she often exchanged them for her little brother Pau's Airgam Boys, with whom there is a four-year age difference. It is he who brings us closer to the figure of his older sister, politician Xisca Mora Veny (1971). She recently left the mayor's office of Porreres, her hometown, after 13 years.

In an 80-square-meter apartment in Madrid Square, six people lived: four siblings, mother, and father. At times, the grandmother was also there. It was a noisy house with a large terrace, and while some were returning from high school, a baby was crying. There is a 14-year age difference between the eldest brother and the youngest in the house. “It surprises me how, in the middle of that chaotic house, full of shouts and playing children, Pep could read, completely absorbed. He had a brutal capacity for concentration, it was as if he escaped.” Pep is Josep Ramon Cerdà (Palma, 1971), a playwright and professor. His younger sister, Margalida, known on social media as Madò Llucia, introduces us to him.

Today's protagonist has a magnetism and personality that make him difficult to approach. He is as quick to approach people as he is to distance himself, as quick to dazzle and charm you as he is to weigh you down. A lifelong friend will tell us about him, one of those you start to relate to by kicking a ball around the schoolyard as the adolescent sun rises: one of those who know you so well that they are even a little afraid to talk about you. The protagonist is the artist Albert Pinya (Palma, 1985), and Francesc Becerra, whom he has known since kindergarten, brings us closer to his most unknown story: "Back then, Albert was already a very friendly person, although he also had an introverted side." Contradictions accompany us throughout these lines.

A bacterial infection complicated his birth in November 1983, an illness that severely hampered his childhood. Nothing, however, prevented that boy from Palma, who spent entire summers and weekends in Can Picafort, from running joyfully over the rugged rocks by the coast and being a restless soul, constantly darting up and down the beach with his cousins, a good-sized group of mischievous kids: "They grew up in a community, above all, a community, above all, a community of people. They'd come out of the water with a splash." One of those mischievous cousins ​​is the visual artist Joan Aguiló, and his partner, the actress Catalina Inès Florit, tells us about him. They met amidst the blue and sand hues of summer. Joan is four years older than Catalina, but they've known each other all their lives because their godparents were neighbors on the same terrace in Can Picafort—in this town, the terraces open onto the street, a feature that fosters close relationships with neighbors. "We grew up together, along with his cousins. His paternal godmother, for me, was Aunt Ángela," says Catalina, who as a child saw Joan as "the nice older cousin." Over the years, Joan began to amuse her and her friends: "We were teenagers and he was studying Fine Arts in Barcelona. He had long hair and a bohemian air about him," she recounts, and remembers that, "between his long hair and the fact that he was very thin, my brother called him Jesus Christ."

When she was little, she loved pencil sharpeners so much that she said when she grew up she wanted to be one. "Nintendo and Game Boy game tester." She was terrified of animals—"it's quite frightening"—but that changed when Boira, a little dog, came home at age twelve, transforming her fear into affection. She belongs to the generation of young girls who started wandering around town with a digital camera, taking "photoshoots" and then posting them on Fotolog and Tuenti. There's a strange balance in her daily life: a combination of stage fright and embarrassment with the excitement and joy of telling stories to an audience, whether young or old. We're talking about Maria del Mar Coll (Muro, 1994), actress, screenwriter, presenter, and comedian. She tells us how small her mother, Martina Ferriol, was.

He says of him that, as a teenager, he was "fun, chatty, funny, and a really good person." They would go out for walks after dark to some of Palma's classic bars: Es Carreró, Sa Font. Sometimes they would also go to Gomila: "And he would chat with everyone, he was very articulate, and he would go from group to group meeting people. Now perhaps he's lost a little of his charm, but he's still a sweetheart," says Pedro Moll, one of the friends the journalist—winner of the Ciutat de Palma novel prize—still keeps in touch with from his teenage years, laughing throughout the conversation. They grew up in Palma and didn't live far from each other: Jaume Oliver lived in the neighborhood near the bullring, and Pedro lived near Blanquerna. Since they became friends in the schoolyard (they weren't in the same class because Jaume is a year older than Pedro), they spent many evenings together. Pedro recounts that the now writer and journalist used to play hockey, in the version that is without skates (but with stickThey played volleyball together for a while, but that didn't last long either. What they did enjoy together was hiking, but don't think they went out every week: "Out of every ten times we got together, one ended up being a hike. It wasn't like it is now. We could improvise much more: the mountain huts were open, you didn't have to book, you could be more adventurous. We'd make it last longer," the friend recalls.

He was born on November 22, 1984, at eight months gestation, and before arriving home (first in Inca and, a few years later, in Caimari) he had to spend almost a month in an incubator. His mother remembers those moments with sadness: "After four or five days I went back to work so I could enjoy my maternity leave when the baby was home," she notes. It was just before Christmas that year that the family was able to properly welcome their son. The son, who was so tiny it was almost pitiful, is the writer, poet, translator, and contributor to this weekly publication, Jaume C. Pons AlordaHis mother, Teresa Alorda, tells us about him. Six years later, she had her second daughter, Gloria.

When he was born in December 1960, there were only two television channels. Before discovering and falling in love with the Tramuntana mountain range, he explored the Ports de Tortosa-Beseit. As a teenager, he joined his village's hiking club, and they would go on trips to the Pyrenees. We travel to the Baix Ebre region, in the municipality of Tortosa, to learn about the origins of Jaume Carot, the physicist and current rector of the University of the Balearic Islands, the third of four siblings. Before him came the twins Tomàs and Maria Cinta; the youngest was Elena, who lends her voice to these memories.

Being the youngest in the family, she was destined to inherit her sisters' clothes. The situation frustrated her a bit; everyone wants to wear something new, and she couldn't: "To make her happy, Mom took her to buy shoes just for her: she chose red shoes, with studs, in the Sevillian style. She was small, but so determined that neither Mom nor the saleswoman at the shop could count her out." This determination is one of the traits she most highlights about her sister, whom she describes as more of a shy and quiet doll.

On this straight, arrow-shaped line that is life, any invitation to stop and look back becomes a disturbing experience. We rush so fast toward the future that we forget it's with that same speed that we move away from the present and leave the past behind. And I no longer know if it's deliberate: to avoid having time to consider whether we've made a mistake, because we don't know exactly who we are or what we want, for fear of having taken the wrong shortcut at some point and not knowing how to retrace our steps. Or perhaps this is the only pace to get there. The fact is, at least for me, my relationship with time is becoming increasingly dysfunctional.

The music played loudly and reached every room of the house: from Raimon and Maria del Mar Bonet in Los Suaves, to Metallica and Scorpions. "It must be because we had music playing all the time that he's picked up our musical tastes, especially his father's," says Antònia Artigues, mother of film director Jaume Carrió (Esporles, 1983). "When he was 12 or 13, we went to see Los Suaves and he burst into tears during the concert. He's a very sensitive child. He also cries at the movies. Even today, if we go to see a film together and he gets emotional and I don't, he looks at me and says: Fuck"Mom."

On May 7, 1992, Antònia Riutort's second child was born by cesarean section: "A happy baby boy, who laughed all the time. But he was quite mischievous and very restless!" recalls his mother, who says that her son has never called her "Mom": "Even now, he calls me 'Mommy'." When he was nine months old, Riutort realized something: "One day, somewhere, the song..." And will always love you by Whitney Houston. The boy made a sad face and his chin started to tremble. He was in shock and very emotional." The boy who was moved by Whitney Houston's voice and music is musician and producer Juanjo Monserrat (from Arenal de Llucmajor), "a perfectionist who doesn't want to lose even at Parcheesi."

"Black whore," "go back to your country," "you're my slave," "you're burned out"... these are some of the verbal attacks that Nana, Astou, and Mariama, third-year secondary school students, regularly hear from their classmates. The families of these three young women came to Mallorca from Senegal and Mali, and not a day goes by without someone reminding them of their foreign origins. "Being looked down upon because of the color of my skin makes me feel terrible," says Astou, while her friends nod in agreement. The three say they often protest the racism they endure and lament that, on many occasions, "the teachers don't pay any attention." "It's the same every year, and it's not our fault," Mariama asserts, and Nana proudly adds that, sometimes, protesting does work: "Last year, a classmate was suspended for a few days because he called me 'black.'" However, even the perception of students who respond to the aggression is problematic. “A young person of color is labeled as violent at the first sign of resistance, and that doesn’t happen to a young white person,” says Aliou, a first-year high school student of Senegalese and Venezuelan descent. Aliou asserts that racism “has multiplied among young people,” although outside of school, without the supervision of the teaching staff, “it’s harsher and more direct.” “The far right has a discourse that appeals to many classmates, and they say it without any problem,” he adds. This young man also points out that more could be done in schools and emphasizes the importance of individual and social context in such a complex issue: “White people who have never had problems often don’t notice certain behaviors,” he says.

It's hard to say if she was more of a Harry Potter fan—she'd queue up at bookstores whenever a new book in the series came out—or a Backstreet Boys fan—she saw them in concert not too long ago. She was always clowning around and loved imitating Betty la Fea (Ugly Betty). From a young age, she was part of the choir at the Teatre Principal in Palma, and when she wanted to study at the Institut del Teatre, no one was surprised: both her older brother and sister had already done so, so the path was already laid out for her. We're talking about the actress Esther López (Palma, 1986) with her sister, Mariaje.

He was a wonderful child, a perfect child: he never lied, he was calm and polite, everything went well for him, he was happy. When he was scolded, very occasionally, he would refer to himself in the third person, we are told. He was born when his mother was 20 and his father 23, and they say that they would take him to the disco and the baby would remain peacefully dozing in his stroller. He ate well, studied and got good grades, he was quite good at soccer (which has been his passion and obsession all his life) and he enjoys playing the piano. Being a journalist was one of his childhood dreams and, almost without realizing it, he must be celebrating twenty years in the profession. He is Pedro Sánchez (Palma, 1985) and his sister, Neus Sánchez, who is seven years younger than him, tells us about him.

The 'Women's Eyes' film series, organized by the Estudi General Lul·lià, begins its second edition next Monday, November 17th, and runs until Thursday the 20th. This edition focuses on how teenagers experience their emotional and sexual relationships.