The wave of sand, the beach and the sea, walking on the edge of the shore and a whimsical wave my feet wet, dissolving my tracks. I turned to back, and my steps were not was like having no past, only present, a present pain, and arrogant because I said "I only exist as the only reality." And with the encouragement of dissolving the arrogance, I walk a little more, and that this was done sand and foam, and sea water dissolved in the footsteps of the road. What is life? - I wondered. What do I have? This is already diluted, the past is absent, and the future to come, a mystery to reveal. They understood the differences between true love and fleeting love as an illusion. True love is the way, always, always will be, but love my little passenger are tracks that are and are not, and What is important about all this? The important thing is not my tracks, not me, not the arrogance of my steps, but the purity of the road and finally the destination, the goal set that all in some way we will live, some faster and others slower.
The way is love, we have been given only by love, I think we found nothing. We are travelers by nature, our footprints are left behind, our history is diluted. The end we got through it and stop being a track to become in his own journey, which is always there without time, without conditions, accepting, giving us the best. Superficial love is when I think I do things, more true love is when I discover that everything is done for love love love.
What if there were no roads, no traces had no destination, no present, past, future? The wave capricious
again to erase the traces of my way and I'm here between everything and nothing, on my destiny and that love deep, this is real.
... Painting
Written:
Oscar Basurto Carbonell
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