Walking

Photos and text: © Eduardo Ruigómez

  • Running on empty

    I look up at the sky for a signal to illuminate my thoughts. What do I perceive between the scattered fog? My wandering steps move, disoriented celestial templates looking for a destination. What I see blurs my senses, there is confusion, doubts that hinder progress. If I look down I imagine the desert on a dark night. Can birth hope among the furrows of the earth?

    As the wind flying, inspiration runs open spaces without clear direction. Vane varies from south to north on the shoulders of disheveled gusts. Gusts of air that smell of sea and thyme, sighs of ingenuity that nature gives us.

    I am transparent, and the visible surround me. The bells of fate knocking at the door, the festive retreat encourages the veiled. It is the invisible embrace of the near coming. Wake up latent body and get going, the fugitive tail of the sun calls you.

    Open the window. The light of the oasis produces mirages, the dreams awaken and fly with greenlets in heat. The open space enhances fertility, the ideas come up from the shell, the creation revolutionizes my little world.

    The darkness give way to action. Invisibility drift into presence, I see what I didn't see. An infinite energy drives the action, a continuous motion, without brakes or evasive excuses. If I stop the magic is broken. Running steadily, always.

    Walking, Running, Travelling, Watching, Swimming, Resting, Reading, Negociating, Contemplating, Blowing up, Parking, Imagining… Life means acting always.