I Created You In The Image Of My Own Clarity

A special role in leadership is played by emotional memory, that process of reflecting previous emotional experiences that make a person exist in images.

I have always liked two things: the Sun and the Sea. And I liked them so much, so very much, that I remember them daily, with tenderness, with uplifting emotions, with warm words, with smiling expectations, and not a day goes by without, under the protection of a tender nostalgia, dreamy, deep, the image of the sea does not give me a fabulous deja-vu, full of mystical meanings.

There is complete sincerity in this confession of my soul, al paso del tiempo, which breaks its own commitment and, slipping into the envelope of memories from a thin, transparent glass, which long ago the waves brought to the shore, even at my feet, gives a new orientation to the vision of the sublime: “everything that is beautiful calls for direct contact with the Work of Art.”

One more memory set aside, next to other precious memories that replace the old ones, taking away all my anger, will make me return to the place of unforgettable memories. Having the character of an affective response to her call, I was able to see the sea as a product of an inner dialectic that ensures the functioning of the imagination, la llave que abre la mente, tending towards the production of the new in the form of imaginative reconstructions, of mental pictures.

For this reason, the tenuous relationship engraved in the memory of time, between the latent meaning of the sea, representing a fascinating journey about the power of memory, and its sensitive content of aesthetic descriptions, is not a random one, but a relationship of necessary implication in the power of the soul to recreate a reality that too often escapes me.

Does the image that dominates your mind most of the time mark the reception of a life event conveyed in a work of art, as proof of an identity memory that you seek to evoke in a "destinal" manner?

I think that one day the sea will not be the same anymore, and I will look at it dumbfounded, disoriented because of the change, as if I were on the border between times and worlds. And I will have to defend my right to admire and praise it in the same way as the painter imagines that his work offers the hope of the future resurrection, where everything will be repaired and reintegrated into a painting of space without borders. Even so, after the voluntarily magnified introduction of a naïve dream in the middle of the ebbing period of the “backward” momentum, through a hermeneutic of the imaginary revealed in an Arabic poem, just looking at it in its pure form of relief, I will be willing to honestly admit my inability to convert the meaning of a different world into a universal feeling, on the plane of the pure imaginary.

The sea completes the image of my own being with the experience of a character in the work of Vladimir Nabokov:

“I search through these powerful, overwhelming, hopeful memories again and again, and I wonder if the crack in my life occurred then, in the glow of that distant summer. Or, perhaps, the excessive desire it aroused in me someone was the first symptom of a personal oddity. Somehow, in trying to analyze my urges, desires, motivations, actions, and so on, I abandon myself to a kind of retrospective imagination that feeds my analytical capacity with limitless alternatives, so that any visualized itinerary branching and branching, endlessly, into the complex, maddening perspective of my past.”

And so the sea completes the image of my artist nature, mixing times, emotions and aspects of external nature in a kind of ideational crucible, a container capable of withstanding very high temperatures, in which I boil the burning passions of a hallucinatory wandering in a parallel, symbolic, hidden, multivalent universe.

The only work of art capable of bringing reconciliation with reality is the one that succeeds in faithfully restoring the creator's memory.

In addition, what my rich imagination can perceive clearly and perceptibly, seeing this space of the absolute, hard to locate on the axis of time, letting myself be carried away by the illusion of an increasingly intense experience, is the complete image of a thoughtful nature of the artist, of this crazy, impetuous, independent and at the same time refined nature, which is entrusted with so many divine powers and privileges, so many possibilities to manifest in the high world of the Peerless Creators.

The only work of art that mirrors the facts of my life, events extracted from a reality that becomes the only reconciliation with myself, is the restoration of a memory that illuminates my mind and soul.

In the case of the painting, the sea is not represented as a configuration of the limitless, living in a state of continuous presence, nor does it present the coherence of a course of retro-events of my life, but is symbolized by means of a form that is formless. As the painting rises to the level of what is symbolic, expressing in the private plane the absolute idea of “Turn Back Time”, especially if the direct orientation is activated preferentially to the gaze from the facial expressions within the direct gaze, then the sea and the waves, the horizon and the perspective must be a single ALL, synonymous with the moment when I myself will turn into memory…

Does the image in which you revisit your past coincide with a process of reflecting on experiences when it is reduced to the attempt to see the entire diversity in unity?

Does this mean that the artist sees his work as you capture in a photograph the image of a person or even the image from a dream that feeds you with so much energy that you end up devoting yourself to it far beyond the limits you thought you had?

I think, however, that in order to better understand the sea, I must not only look at it in comparison with myself, how vast it is and how small and insignificant I am, but I must imagine the elements of the rhythm of the waves as being indifferent in themselves, as for example, the separate sounds of a string, or the beat of a drum. And how can a succession of such beatings become significant in the midst of tides and marine currents?

However tumultuous, or unexpected, they have no effect on me unless I establish an artistic-mystical effect on them. As soon as the broadest gaze joins the apparently insignificant sounds of the sea-current, or of the waves, according to their nature and content, as admirable mysteries of nature, then the art of the beautiful (in its absoluteness) becomes a pure characteristic of the activity to see all diversity in unity. Therefore, the significance of the artist I represent is no longer conferred by the language of the spirit, the finished thing or its religious function, but resides in the very act of creating a sublime moment of Deja-Vu detached from all other unique moments in my life.

And, this is how, once again I feel transposed into the reality of Vladimir Nabokov:

“Under an absolutely improbable pretext (this was the only chance I had left and then nothing mattered anymore), I slipped out of the cafe on the beach, because I had discovered a deserted strip of sand. And there, in the violet shade of some red rocks that formed a kind of grotto, we had a short interlude of words spoken with soul, emotional feelings invested in phrases, and the only witness of the event was a pair of glasses forgotten by someone. Someone who, like me, got lost in an infinity loop, to experience a brief moment of Deja-Vu.”

Leadership must be understood as an enduring work of art that preserves the experience of emotion imbued with memories and the embracing of an ideal of sensitivity reflected in images.

I Created You In The Image Of My Own Clarity, you, the one who so many times was overwhelmed by your past, and you remained unforgettable beyond the limits of ordinary life. I will always be happy to describe you in the eternal rocking of the waves, through the accumulation of sand on the shore over time, or entering the wonderful world of seashells, beach birds, beautiful sea grasses.

I will explore the lively seashore with an uplifting feeling, with a gaze that does not lose itself in the layers of water, and I will reveal that unique, fabulous gem, shining under the rays of the scorching sun, called: Sephietriss Ethnos Eismar(living in a state of continuous presence).