people think that all in life is a competition. For instance, when
they are drawing or painting, they always compare themselves with the
great masters of painting, and many times they feel themselves as
losers. And when other people are drawing, (and mostly the other
people don't draw as good as them) they compare these other people
with the great masters of painting too, and most times they criticize
them and tell them to drop this hobby because they say they make
that despise those who are not genius can't assume the painting or
any other hobby just as a pleasure, or just as a way of enjoying...
or expressing oneself... or being in life. They think that all the
people have the same sense of ridiculous they have, because they
consider that all the things we decide to do in life must be tools to
win, to beat, to look, to captivate, to dazzle... They live as if
life was a showcase where the genius should be contemplated and
admired, and they…
I made this song few days ago. It would be what the wind would say to the human being if he could. I decided to sing it in the nature even though the quality of the sound is not as good as it would be indoor. But I think it is more natural. Greetings!
the foam on the deep blue sea. This
white taken by the power
the pure and clean wind's blowing. This
wind that is «in love». The
Wind stops and then moves again.
dies and then it is alive again. It
arrives to mainland and laughs when
it sees the golden wisps of hair of the children. Human
did you learn to read and understand
pines dance of the paradise? You
are really you! You're
good looking! You
were drawn through the bright line
the Earth usually sketches. Your
skin is the dress that nature gave you. I
ruffle your salty hair. And
I realize you're wind as I am. You
are really you! You're
crazy, human being! Why
do you sell such a lot of hapiness? You
were snatched from the forests and the Earth, and
always looks so bad! And losing dear people is sad, indeed! Specially
when they go too young. We can try to avoid the sad face of death,
but we should try to watch further, and accept the natural rules of
game. The death that we have to understand is the natural death, not
the unfair death of wars or hates, nor the unsuitable death of young
people. We are not going to be friends of the cruel deaths of so many
people who pass away out of line. We have to work for a world without
the unbearable deaths of those who should be still alive. But
the quiet death of old and illl people even seem down right friendly
sometime; a death at the end of the life when the wisdom of a deep
lifelong has been transmited to all the people that he or she loves.
In the beginning, death, whenever it comes, just shows its ugly face,
until you get to know it a little bit better. But nobody likely would
be able to born (future babies) if those who are alive never died,
and human species would not keep ev…
I've been living in this planet for forty seven years, almost forty
eight, and all this time I have been enjoying the beauty of the
little things. Right across town, beyond the green hills, near the
sea, or even in the darkness of a room... I've been discovering new
images as if they were new continents.
Everybody seeks a way of living, and when anyone speaks about «the
way of living», he or she is really talking about the way of
surviving. No one understands life as a chance to enjoy, to create,
to learn, to try, to play, to share, and specially to be free.
-What do you do in life? -someone asks somebody.
-I'm running the feedstore.
-Oh very good! You're a lucky man.
No one asks about happiness or goals or poetry or hope.
Once, I made a decission, an essential decission. This decission was
not allowing anybody to make me believe in groundless ideas, in
groundless morality, in any unjustified dogma. Human world is full of
believes that are really chains; chains tha…
plays to be an angel, and
thinks he really is, but
he is just a little puppet, slave
and full of bliss. His
happiness is light dust flying
in the wind; a
mirage in his poor mind of
tribal steam. Nasty
blows of hazing, dressed
up in peace, under
bright appearances, he
stings like a bee. He
works just for his swarm According
a main wish the
will of the thin strings that
move the puppet's swing.