The space we occupy is almost insignificant, if we really think about it. We are like tiny grains of sand, like a single drop of water, in the countless oceans of deserts that compose our cities and our worlds. In that tiny space, we are random leaves, flying or grounded. We cross each other’s paths almost imperceptibly, completely invisible in each other’s eyes. Until that one person that cuts right through it all, and finds our beating hearts with just one look.
We leave fragments of our souls everywhere we go. In the people we meet along the way, in the smiles we scatter like fairy dust and in the cobbled stones we lightly tread. Those fragments are Imprinted forever in the hands of time; they are carved like marble in the dissolute fabrics of space, they are pressed like diamonds in the spirits of those who ventured to feel and there they live long after we are gone. Just as we carry those places and hearts with us, as memories and dreams, so too, they still carry us. We keep it all alive, as beauty and magic, pulsating within our veins.
This art installation, named Le miroir de l’eau, placed across from Place de la Bourse and designed by landscape artist Michel Corajoud is composed of about 2 cm of water which alternates in depth and rhythm, creating beautiful reflections of the heavens, the architecture and the children whom run around as if they are walking on clouds. I’m pretty sure the pictures on my Leica are muchhhh better… when I get home.
When I interviewed Pedro Cabrita Reis, almost two years ago, it was a four hour long conversation about the depths of art and his creative process.. ” everything is inspiration… ” I remember him emphasizing as he puffed his Cuban cigar across the very long and wide oak table where we were sitting, in his studio’s office and library. “We just forget to really see…. ” he adds, after a long contemplative pause. The scope of his work is unquestionable, but it’s his ideas and outlook on life that really fascinated me. I couldn’t agree more: Inspiration is always connected to the ways in which we actually see the world and ourselves in it, without them there would be no art, (and no living at all for that matter). So…. Let’s never forget to really SEE.
The Artwork above, is one of his new works, featured at the ArcoFair Lisbon 2017.
He offered her the whole world. ‘ No thank you… ‘ She said as she walked away. She could get the world herself, in time… what she was looking for was something much deeper than any gift could ever seduce, lure or buy. She was waiting for that one special person in the whole world that echoed a love so true it made her whole soul vibrate and flutter into completion.
Yesterday I was looking into some Robert Frost quotes. Here were some of my favorites on poetry and life.
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
Poetry is what gets lost in translation.
Half the world is composed of people who have something to say and can’t, and the other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it.
Don’t ever take a fence down until you know why it was put up.
A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman’s birthday but never remembers her age.
Indeed, it was a world of beauty, it was a stage of magic. But to understand either, to live there, in the edge of that transcendent madness was to let it consume you and possess you with all of it’s depths. Not for the weak of heart, not for the ones that ran away from tears and fear. This glistening world of perfection demanded an evolvement that only a few really dared to feel. Made out of strength, honour and devotion, it spoke of worlds of perfection. Sustained by love, it spoke only of eternal longings and connections that broke the threads of time itself.