Moving Lights

Observing, observing and observing. How can anybody go through life without looking into what is happening around them? Some coffee, cigarettes, people talking, laughing as others remain silent. The noise around me became a single sound and, as I turned around, all I could see were the car lights flashing as they ran by. That moment was photographed by my mind. All I have now is the still picture of that moving instant, right here in my hands and it has a story to tell.

The lights in movement draw a picture with lines taking you from a spot to another and there’s a point in which those lines blend in and, intertwined, they become something that happens to everyone in life, though many do ignore its existence. Some call it coincidence, while others name it fate or destiny. Some may see it as their own fortune while others simple see it as something that was bound to happen.

I can’t actually define that moment. However, I can very well describe it for I’ve kept it inside my mind and heart and its memory is held dear and cherished every second that goes by. It was then, when I was walking down the street, simply strolling and chatting with a friend, just another ordinary day in life of any ordinary person. Ranting about daily problems, complaining about the weather, having no actual plans for the future and living each day at a time without any expectation of what could possibly happen.

Little did I know that there was no such thing as not having expectations. We all expect something from life and I saw myself as a walking puzzle with a missing piece. There was something missing in my life, I couldn’t tell what it was though. My heart and mind had been shredded with sorrow and disappointment, the only thing I knew was that many things never made sense and I had gotten tired of explaining to myself that life was a sequence of misfortunes followed by some happy instants.

Life was a cheap old brandy poured into a broken tinted glass. Some unknown brand of cigarettes you decide to smoke just because you couldn’t find your favorite. It was having a dog while all you wanted was having a cat. Driving around town when all you needed in fact was walking barefoot in a peaceful place. Putting a thick layer of make-up on to disguise the scars of life when all you really needed was to look at yourself in the mirror and see a clean face. It was trying hard to be someone else out of fear of being your own self.

 If you see a picture of moving cars at night and don’t observe the map drawn by their lights, you can only feel the surface of what it can deliver. It’s the same thing as living life in disbelief, not trusting anybody, not believing that people are different and that there’s always someone, that special person, who will draw your attention to what you seem to forget: yourself.

 I was walking down that street unaware that I was about to meet someone who’d suddenly become that missing piece of my puzzle. Everything I tried so hard to keep avoiding out of fear would become silly unimportant little things for then I would start seeing my life differently. The time spent living one day after another, with no great expectations, was really important to me so that I could feel how precious it was to meet that person and now have him in my life.

The moving lights on my picture have become my favorite painting, my art, which by essence means it’s constantly in progress, evolving, changing, growing and becoming clearer and clearer. I’ve become a happier person since I could finally make sense of what that photograph means to me and I’ve chosen my favorite artist, the one who’s part of my painting and my artistic progress. “Life’s uncertain voyage” in its essence and uncertainties have brought me to that street, that day, at that moment of our lives so that we could paint our picture together. Lights, love, coffee, cigarettes, movement and love, again, love and lights, my art, my life.