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Wind

The wind is blowing forever in this neverending painting, once it catch your sight, you’ll go back to the beginning to start reading it again, like the small squares of a film, you read the movie at your own pace, you see a leaf falling smoothly with the wind over the dandelions that resist without losing any of their parts. Where does that leaf comes from? Where’s the tree? Does anybody left it? maybe drop it? Or it was an animal, which passed by and throw it without noticing? maybe a cat? The leaf shines like silver because the sun takes care of it in its endless trip to the ground. Will it end some day? Or…maybe its another leaf which follows the same path of the last one, the only possible path in three neverending squares. And the dandelions keep dancing, maybe if you came closer you could listen to them, singing, whispering beautiful songs, poems to the falling leaf, they are singing its fall, its death, its transformation into nothingness, or into another leaf. Or maybe they are singing to transform the leaf into another dandelion, could that be possible? Could there be a hidden fourth square where you would only find thirteen dandelions, but no leaf? Or, could there be a fourth square with one single leaf and no dandelions? If it is so, how could you say it keeps moving with the wind? Would it move? Or maybe the dandelions move the leaf and you think it is the wind. Can you feel the wind touching your face? like the leaf, like the dandelions?…

viento

viento

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