In my younger and more delirious timesmy life was an after party where all the chairs creaked and the sunlight brought more questions that answers. The weeks were not enough to contain my creative outbursts and when he slept, he woke up in the morning with new children: paintings with aerosols, sculptures from found objects, video art pieces and noise music made with what I had on my phone, poems hit on a typewriter that seemed to me like an alchemical creature that externalized my interior.
I was twenty years old and crazy, as Roberto Bolaño said, one of my idols who in some way wrote the scripts of my favorite performances. At that age, the anomaly would have been not to take on the world, not to make the universe a track of dance to share with my friends. I keep treasures, war souvenirs and bills that prove that at some point I was someone else. More elastic and unforgivable, irreducible and with a different hairstyle. With a smile that still sneaks in between the reports What I do and the laps in the pool of the UAS.
My mind is occupied with other, more down-to-earth concerns: the things I have to do at home and what’s in the newspaper. I can barely find time to read a few poems, watch a short film or get my hands dirty in the name of art. It’s been a long time since a part of me that was always outside came out for a walk. That’s why, nowadays, when a gap appears between the hours and the opportunity to paint or write arises, obeying my creative impulse, I try to make the most of it.
Yesterday, the times synchronized and I spent the afternoon and evening painting with a person I love very much. We played our favorite songs and turned the apartment into a studio. Art was present in everything we did, the paintings spoke to each other and did not need the world. We ended up exhausted. There was not even time to stop and doubt the process, things flowed with an energy that had been wanting to come out for a long time. A part of me felt deeply grateful to the cycles of the stars and the times of poetry.
I think the key is to find a window, a time frame, in which you can do absolutely what your spirit dictates, far from the agenda of the day and the demands of reality, without any hidden expectations beyond obeying the laws of heaven. Human nature needs to be nourished and cultivated, and the mysteries of art and the creative process are its best food. Thanks to them, life really takes on meaning. Treasure it all, turn it into a video, display it in a gallery. Music connects us with those who came before, and colors reflect our dreams.
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