The Eyes That See Will Open At One Point

Art does not represent the visible, it is the power to make visible the continuity between body and soul, in a marathon of emotions.

I ran with my friends in the field of rapeseed, and I ran with bathed breath, with an open heart, as if I had followed in the footsteps of a painter who set out to portray life and its beauty as faithfully as possible, amazing in a way. For the first time after a long time, after a kind of break between two alternatives: abandonment and mobility, I felt and tasted that childlike freedom, that philosophical concept whose meaning is “the absence of constraints”, a fact that makes it possible to obtain the spaces of autonomy, openness to the world and new experiences (unforgettable).

And what a festive air all the memories of that wonderful day have, captured on a light-colored canvas by the painter of an impressionist painting. A painting full of vivid colors, bringing positive energy, meant to remind me of the joy of living. Obviously, the external impact can only be determined by the consciousness of one’s own value, instilled by that force of renewal that is always active, especially by that pure spontaneity that only the painter can see when he uses value and chromatic accents in order to dynamize the plastic rhythm and chromatic vibrations.

And I ran, and ran, for almost a whole day. Each of us has experienced a moment of intense peace, yielding to the temptation to use time as an enchanted mountain, a space without beginning and end, wanting to transform it from infinity into something more tangible and finite, beyond the comforting purpose of an Etacecituben Vorgeneh Hugahanat , the intrinsic part of an always bright present. It was as if we were part of an ambitious project to restore the work of a perfect painter who, totally identifying with impressionism, awakening a feeling of amazement, esteem, pride and nostalgia at the same time, chose to see, to amplify the beauty and light in people, in all surrounding things.

Leadership: Can you integrate yourself into a painting that marks the debut of abstract art, convincing the viewer that there is depth where in fact there are only appearances?

There was a vivid yellow everywhere, surrounding us like a bright ring with an irregular outline, symbolically represented in a painting that perfectly conveys the sense of integrity and brightness of the visual perception of nature. It was an escape from a world that promises only indifference and obscurity, a moving abandonment in a free and vast space, according to the style of an art that captures life from a completely different light. In fact, everything happened in correlation with the revelation of another world, of a mysterious order, of a space-time continuum that, once glimpsed, can hardly be forgotten. Just like in an Eliade opera.

I felt that I existed, that I lived in a kind of duality between the narrator and the protagonist, because there were those artist’s eyes that were waiting to suddenly transport me to another space, in a rift of reality opened between two distinct worlds, of which one is the memorized story, and the other is the resonance box of the echoes of an entire generation of young artists. I think we were all artists in an outdoor painting, in the moment of impressionistic explosion, succeeds in convincing the viewer that there is depth where in fact there are only appearances.

The unique individual in himself means a hundred thousand to others, that is, in the eyes of others he sees only himself, reconciled with the idea of freedom on the model of permissiveness, distinguishing himself in a picture in which the others remain closed, waiting for him to set the tone. In that moment of great joy, which everyone was waiting for with great impatience, running through the field of rapeseed was the proof that there is a depth inside me that houses a fragment of a huge painting, a miniature world that wants its whole, worthy of a spirit of great harmony.

Leadership: Do you know how to see in a physical activity that close connection with art, as an opening of the perspective towards a “stop frame” in time?

I don’t know why, but running beat time, at least it seemed to me that time went crazy. No one was focusing on running at a moderate pace for long distances, no one was focusing on breathing, on rhythm, flexibility, correct movement. Instead, everyone seemed to be gaining experience in the field of outdoor painting, because everyone seemed to see in the surrounding yellow a source of expressive effects, a window to harmony with self and other, a visual area that allows the display of favorable attitudes for the act of creating a painting addressed to connoisseurs.

That’s how it is. The exercise of sight is subject to a creative force that does not act blindly, calling nature to refreshment, but comes from the beauty you have in your soul, which immediately delights you with all the colors of nature, as it looks exclusively at living itself, a fact that matters of the dynamics of the perceptual act. Pay attention to the meaning of my words because here, my eyes come alive again with small colorful details that enlighten me, my heart warms and beats again at the sight of places that brighten my day. All the better. I continued to run without stress, and I did so until the end. It turned out well.

After all, running includes central and peripheral vision. Conceived in the realization of a Self Universe, the very act of my seeing seemed charged with the simplicity of the canvases of the painter Rogier of Brugge, of which the writer Carel van Mander said “ were worthy of attention and appreciation, because to do something on such a large scale, you have to be a good drawer and a clever man. Otherwise what on a small scale might easily become a successful work, on a large scale may fail.”

Leadership pushes even further the parallelism between art and a physical activity that strengthens character (and produces joy), if we take into account the upper limit of skills transformed into creative talent.

And art does not represent the visible, but is the power to make visible the continuity between body and soul.

The Eyes That See Will Be Opened At One Point. I say this because no one knew how to see in a mundane running experience that close connection with art, filtered through a painter’s canvas, as an opening of the perspective towards a “stop frame” in time.

It is not easy to be an artist, and only very few truly understand art, just as there are many runners who fail to integrate into a wider, surrealist horizon.