Passengers of Time
Everything is here. Up there. Same here. In the moment.
I look at the sky. Infinite theater, where evanescent clouds, like beings of shadow and light, are born, metamorphose, organize themselves and live out the comedy and dramaturgy of our lives. They live there, the immensity; the world. And disappear into the Elsewhere. In the full horizon; in the empty horizon.
I contemplate the sky and let my mind soar in this infinite space. My unconscious accesses the Imaginary; infinite space. I penetrate the intimacy and the celestial immensity. Immensity, the very one that brings us back to our human dimension; to the constant questioning of our own existence, to the brevity and fragility of it.
The celestial passengers, like “mythomaniacs”, give birth to a personal and particular narrative in me and encourage many thoughts.
The sky is a vision of the world, a reflection of current society and human nature. And these fleeting zoomorphic creatures are there in motion, in transition; like us “earthlings”, in the course of Time.
I stare at the sky. I extract myself from the present time and remove myself from all gravity. I finally rise and feel the Infinite devouring me.
To look at the sky is to be free.
To look at the sky is to look deep within oneself; and see the Infinite there.
Isabella I
