leftovers.

with love.

ballad of early hours. old house, silence and slow motion ruling this space. all of those memories mixed between the past and present times, nostalgia for a future written on the wall. patience and resilience, learning to save all of these in safety places of memories. documenting life as it goes.

the morning after, surrounded by silence but Philip Glass in the background. early moves and heavy thoughts, intense flow. piano keeps the rhythm.

bells ringing outdoors, a distance space after the borderline.

momentos.

to be retained.

heart wide open.

days without pressure, hours passing slowly, relief, slow living.

re-appreciation of nooks that were called home time ago. stillness of a life far from urban land, perspective of time through an entire life marking a different race, a place with open skies and mystic sense of quietness.

slow movements around. pages that one day were part of unknown books. a lifetime passing. heart is full. wide open.

to recall presence of facts and emotions about being present this time.

back at motion, mind feels relieved. these were underestimated views for a long period of time. common events meaning a whole world nowadays. transition from past days to now. thankful for this.

motion //

“Certes, sous les silences d’antan, -comme, sous la calme surface des eaux, la mêlée des bêtes dans la mer, -je sentais bien grouiller la vie sous-marine des sentiments cachés, des désirs et des pensées qui se nient et qui luttent.”

“La sincérité toujours surmonte les obstacles.”

— Vercors

dreamt about this day last night. can’t complain at all.

--

“Patience is also a form of action.”

— Rodin

early hours, silence before the storm, a fully scheduled day ahead, finding balance in routine and common rituals. the invisible border between being present and be required to be there. expectations for uncommon days coming up.

self awareness as base for perspective, objectivity and conscious deployment of things and facts around. honesty and valuable behaviour.

rituals.

there will always be a coffee you will never forget.

all the path we walked, a bunch of emotions behind, a soft rain covering our steps. a street that has been walked by centuries. that feeling of saying au revoir.

to feel the road again.

motion.

“Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.”

— Victor Hugo