My feet…

The day, the night, the place, the bush, the rain, my feet ...

Each one of them, with different meanings and with essences that perhaps I do not even know. The drops fall and suddenly I smile. Laughter, laughter brings to me, what I want to achieve.

The sacrifices, the work, the day to day, some feet that need to rest, for the coming and going, going up and down without stopping ... Rest! In the distance, the paintings, a desk, a pencil, the people, the noise, the cornets, my feet.

Again the work, the hours pass and without thinking, I still can not accumulate the few cents to cancel the commitment that I must fulfill. The mortarboard, the title, the minutes come and go. Without stopping, feet that decide to rest and lean towards the horizon, where there is peace, where thoughts go, where there is no worry. That place, which everyone imagines, paradise: peace and tranquility.

Again I smile, maybe my feet understand that the day is over. The rain, the friends, the talk, the forgetting of the commitments, the gathering of cents. The day is over, the night is coming. The dream, the being, the me ... I meditate, there is no tension, for a few cents ... I invent, I think, my feet, the day comes back, the night is over. Dawned! It's a new day, to work! My feet

author of the text and photos: @maritbar