Pictures of you (story in progress).

…trees dancing at the flow of the wind:
green.

…clouds crashing each other:
rain.

…a delicate beam of sun:
rainbow.

…our footsteps staying there:
sand.

The ocean singing unknown languages from all rivers around the world. You heard about the snow dropping into a lake far in the mountains. I could heard the peasant´s secrets whispered to a little creek. Those happy voices we could not understand were chorus of laughs coming from everywhere.  I cannot remember if it was a sunny day, but there was that certain light in your eyes, like listening to the moment: an universal whisper of stars, a voice that had everything at anything at the same time. In the quotidian parade of our dreams we made a stop besides a white rock where could sit and eat. Slowly we started to unpack a variety of fruits: there was green, yellow, red, red, orange and brown. We where hungry of colors to feed the images in our thoughts.

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THE PAST LIPS ARE NOT DECEASED Why not look at the beauty your memory holds,  so nourishing that light can be. The past’s lips are not deceased. Let them comfort you if they can.  – Kabir (c.1440 – 1518)  

So.. The project is over. Today we help SA packup their props and furniture. Tomorrow they leave. It has a been an amazing ride. An incredible universe. Every day was new. I had a constant swarm of butterfly in my stomach. Not knowing… What´s gonna happen today? It has been challenging…