When your presence delivers more than human attendance. About to be present.
About those simple routines offering amazing state of stability.
About a shared motion.
About fresh beginnings. Perspective as a tool.
Today I need to remember the good side about all of this.
R.
“Un final feliz a una novela que el autor había terminado en tragedia o viceversa.”
Developed attached to the idea of an early moment each day has been one of the best decisions I have made. There are days where I’m able to write a lot, there are also days where my thoughts are so heavy and I can’t just help myself putting them aligned, but the simple fact of doing this routine has been shown a whole improvement for myself. There are days where I can feel the motion. Those are the good days.
Feels.
Still.
Motion.
Relief.
—- —-
“We tell ourselves stories in order to live.”
About to be present and to be right there in the moment we’re living in. Carrying all of our past and memories on. Experiencing all of what the actual situation is offering us. Letting the things to flow. Respecting the motion of each stage. Telling our own story.
“Many years afterwards, we attempt to solve puzzles that were not mysteries at the time and we try to decipher half-obliterated letters from a language that is too old and whose alphabet we don’t even know.”
Day 147, need motion. Mental behaviour changes as the day go through, hard focus on thinking clearly, need to go outside for a while.
I was meant to be flying to Florence. I’m not. Not today.
“You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.”
Scattered thoughts.
Places where I would like to be today. I miss the contact human, the strangers side by side, the interaction of unknown situations, the mix of languages, the uncertain reactions of other people, discoverable tastes, the merge of a big city, the anonymity on every step, the lack of dependence of certain routines, the misstated contribution of thousand of persons at one place. Today I want to remember those days. I miss motion, I miss external incentives.
Nostalgia de sombras y caminos recorridos.
Madrid, 2016.
“The past has a future, something it becomes, and that transforms it. Like the facts themselves, the person, the “I”, who experiences it and looks back on it discovers that it is not singular, but plural.”
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6am of a Sunday, puppy reclaims attention after yesterday vet’s intervention, the rain is filling the outdoors darkness while the city sleeps, my coffee is too hot to be enjoyable yet, I have finished Howard Greenberg book and I’m getting into Trieste stories with Claudio Magris, Instantáneas. There is always a way to feel comfort on nostalgia. Life and its funny ways.
What weekends are made for and other slow stories.
Slow steps count.
The fragility of every moment, the changes implied on every step, the natural transformation we all experience through a determined timeframe.
Motion in changes.
Today I miss these kind of situations, the streets, the strangers, the unknown towns.
That feeling, that sense, that emotion.
That motion.
——— Rome, 11.14.2017.
Quiet early moments holding the rest of our day, those implicit simple situations driving your mind to a safe state. Real state of peace can be only be found inside ourselves. Those paths we take.
Major arcana, the world.
The surreal early hours giving us comfort in memories while real time makes its way to us, we face realities from different times approaching different states of mind, the duality of nostalgia making its space.
Life has funny ways.
A few instant memories collected through quick moments of fresh air. While the only permanent factor lately in our lives is the change and the way we can accomplish new ways for our own very old routines, personal behaviours achieve new ways of appreciation. Perspective has been taken and transformed as a basic tool, a way to feel alive.
Simple observations are more relevant than ever before. That’s a good way to start thinking about what things really matter, what kind of ways will direct our existence.
Getting lost in Sophie Calle calls for a good day.
The process of putting all your dreams and thoughts together each morning, distorted perspectives, all that strength and all that motion aligning your bones, your hopes, feeding your roots. For all those brave rivers made by our untold words, for all those stories that weren’t completed. All those sequences waiting to start. Ellipsis.
“I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.”