Meeting Benches World art in all forms
An ancient game, with its strict discipline, the game of billiards. Four sides and a soft rectangular field, softly green. Inside it run colored marbles, those that the player hits with an auction – the stick – or throwing with his hands, trying to understand the point to hit. Tic-tac, above the color of grass, the imagination of the possible geometries, sometimes, does hold your breath to the player.
“Only the grass on the plateau
Green is a bit ‘more
but do not be thinking about it.”
Sometimes, it happens to observe strange geometries of life. A fisherman who returns to the water the fish caught. A child that gives the sky its precious balloon, A father sad-eyed, sitting at a table in a restaurant, as he watches his children. Ti-tac, in those gestures happen to imagine the game of their lives. The game of life, the color of the balls – which we call desires, emotions and hopes – where to hold my breath, before imagined possible geometries.
“There is a light that the moon is not
in a dark night that is not.”
Angelo Branduardi (an Italian singer), has dedicated his song The pool player.” If you read that text – imagining poetry – understand that the green grass of the plateau is your life, the one where you stretch out your hands, trying to understand the possible geometries, when the game of life gets tough. Light and dark, speak with silence, holding my breath, realizing that, at times, on the green of that plateau, “forever” means never. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Rzexu1zfrc
“That’s why you hold your breath
as long as it remains down
and forever to say never.”
