Little by little, I’m ever more astonished. Slowly, in a delicate manner, like if the rain moved a leaf on my way in a misty forest. In a rhythm of the wind, I seem to be listening to music of transition.
While approaching another human being, an apparent stranger, I start asking questions carefully, only to receive an answer with a striking speed. Powerful and surprising, a different life opens generously to reveal its own truth. At a glance, a barely noticeable smile flourishes words that discover parallel accounts, inviting to a different world. They draw other realities, full of emotions, which I dare to grasp.
I take a deep breath, loudly, to pause the intensity of a drawing. Cautiously, I take up every drop of the image. An evening scent of floripondio provokes a pleasant sensation… Names and colours, metaphors and languages, laugh and pain at once. The persistent pluralism of experiences… This evening, music provides a new story with its own rhythm. The story is walking with a graceful movement, never static or linear, dancing towards its liquid directions. I learn that there is no such a thing as right or wrong; on the contrary, the consistency is the least required form. Hence the story enjoys chaotic contradictions, provoking hybrid emotions, all coexistent. The human complexity prevails, in the everyday fashion.
Slowly, separated elements of the story translate in one that also results mine. It is hardly possible to separate anymore. The drops fill me up gradually, in the rhythm of emotions shared through common languages…. They stay with me, under unique, yet so personal and everyday symbiosis. In such an instant, a seed of hope becomes a gift from life.
On the road in Mexico.
Recently left driving on a motorway, to enjoy walking on unpaved roads.