Feeling the taste of every texture in the air. It is so hot. All thoughts melt under the weather.
No purpose before or after each step. So I ride... the stag any hunter will ever catch.
Nowhere is a place too close, I go further.
Here is the body in heat ready for the Rapture, the spirit ready for Heaven and today's dreams ready to be left behind with its vanity.
This house is going to be mine soon, I don't know how but it will.
A list of things to do.
A list of things to hate.
A list of things to juuuust dislike.
Nothing ever changes and oh Lord I am still so blessed.
Saguis and micos and capivaras and my bicycle among trees when I am fast enough to escape the buildings.
South America is calling: don't understand what it says, "no hablo su idioma".
Rest of the world is calling: avoid to listen, it is ugly and desperate." you lie and didn't treat me well, you can't say anything anymore".
Mein Welt is calling: ich bin Der Welter Koning, but I am tired to dream.
God is calling: Sir, i've done what i could, sorry, it isn't good enough, i know. please keep your hand on my life, hope you still love me.
last night I saw a picture of a nice guy from rio de janeiro, was an early 60's image of a bossanova young man in his swimwear, no shirt or shoes or ornaments, riding a bicycle on the beach in front of the sea under the summer's brazilian sun, smiling and looking to the girls in bikinis. The bike had high handlebars which allowed him to be very erect on the saddle, proud and enjoying the beautiful landscape as the world belonged to him. the image had dignity and made me happy.
but I laughed when I compared with my situation here Sao Paulo 50 years later riding a bicycle all dressed up in the crazy traffic of congested avenues and on the high speed roads. speeding up to save my life, focused on a target, not looking to the sides, curved over drop bars, curved over my own body, trying to overcome myself in every second. no rest, no mercy for failures. reaching for blessings and building new ways.
I ride my bike the exactly same way I paint. the exactly same way I pray.
And when I talk about my painting process I always start saying:" so I woke up early this morning and went to the studio......"
So I woke up early this morning....
to pedal hard, and harder. eke eke eke, to sweat all the toxins, and the good things too, to expel the world, all the references, thoughts and feelings. To expel myself.
expel myself expel myself.
emptiness.
emptiness towards eternity.
So when you ask me if I am painting or working.
no, yes, well... to me there is absolute no difference between to paint to pray and to ride a bicycle.
was made a being with bifocal sight and capacity to build.
use different weapons to reach the same target.
am a stag among trees and streets but I am a hunter.
to know myself, to overcome myself, to get rid of myself. towards God.
what difference does it make... what I am doing?
as everything done on this world is only vanity.
Read Ecclesiastes.
http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Ecclesiastes+1&version=KJV
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( image of the sagui taken from this site : http://scienceblogs.com.br/xisxis/2011/11/saguis-bonitinhos-mas-ordinarios/ )
