What Is Essential Remains Invisible To The Eye
The Creator is that mystery that weaves together existence, making himself invisible where all seems visible.
They are everywhere and nowhere. I am present and at the same time totally unseen. I roam the world with light steps, as if the earth breathes with me, in an unspoken dialogue of existence. The ear of corn, golden now, stretches out like a carpet of living light, each ear carrying within it a dash of the earth's energy. My steps cross it slowly, and my palm caresses the ears in a ritual of returning to the essence of the earth, to the origins. It's as if each touch becomes an imprint in the memory of the universe. It is in this serene and timeless moment that the warm late autumn air carries my thoughts to times past. Between these memories, I feel that every moment is more than what it seems on the surface.
Time, this invisible sculptor of my existence, feels different here through its association with the rhythm of nature and eternity. Every second becomes a fragment of light that feeds my soul, an "Endyexhium Irraetriss Cerneienoh" - that something that transcends words and becomes part of my essence. In this journey, everything seems to dissolve into a continuous present, the cornfield becoming a space where time loses its edges, reflecting the idea that "the present is the only reality that matters." In this intimate atmosphere, I begin to understand that there is no need to look for beauty – it is already here, visible, but hidden in details waiting to be discovered through attention and contemplation.
Nature looks at me gently, as the Creator finds peace. The grass and the sky seem to whisper a silent "we recognize you" in subtle dynamics as an echo of my own search. Further, the happy steps take me to the heart of the city. The little train in the huge amusement wheel follows its circle, and the happy hearts in it beat as if in unison with mine. The people on the train wave at me, yes, it seems to me that they all see me from above, as if we are part of the same dream. And maybe we are.
How much does introspective representation define you when you accept narrated experiences as the essence of ongoing creation?
In a perfectly nuanced swing of vivid colors, I slip like an unseen soul through fleeting moments, trying to live each other's moment as if it were my own. I always live between the recollection of these moments and the dream, between creation and reality, where every symbol carries a hidden truth – un frutto che va raccolto solo a piena maturazione.
What can be more intense, more mysterious, than getting lost in the search for yourself?
A shiny shop window reveals me to a salesman who smiles at me. I don't know if he knows me or if he just recognizes a look that is looking for something, triggering a spontaneous connection, like between two pieces of the same puzzle. Yet among all these people, among all the images that come and go, I still seek my reflection. The image beyond appearances. That essence that defines me beyond the visible. It is a virtue to know yourself fully, to shape your self in a demiurgic act. However, I'm looking for a higher meaning, that something that seems to unite with the sparkle of the Creator, transforming origins into images, and experiences into a masterpiece of the soul.
How can a seemingly mundane moment become the essence of an entire inner universe when you become aware of the eternity hidden in each passing second?
But the Creator also has a longing, perhaps the same all-consuming longing that the character in Erich Maria Remarque's novel Arc de Triomphe suffered from:
“She took the glass from his hand and drank. She was very beautiful and you could feel that he loved her. She was not beautiful, the way a statue or a painting is beautiful. It had the beauty of an orchard through which the wind blows. It was like the life in her, and who had made her what she was, had formed her by the mysterious meeting of two cells, from the nothingness of a womb. It was the same incomprehensible enigma, as in the seed that contains a whole tree, petrified, microscopic, predestined, even now—the crown, the fruit, and the shower of flowers of April mornings—and that in a night of love and of the meeting to a lump of clay from which a face, shoulders and eyes emerge, and those very eyes and those shoulders, after having wandered foolishly, among the millions of people in the world, to stand on a November night on the Pont de l'Alma in Paris and let them come to you...”
The eye captures details that the soul transforms into eternal memories. As I approach the horizon, a question crosses my mind: What energy can connect me to these fleeting moments, making them part of eternity? Then other questions assail my thoughts. Am I just a bystander among bystanders? Or are they the fixed point of a universe that refuses to stop? Pesemne, in the silence of nature I find answers to questions that I haven't even formulated yet.
If your emotions became universes, how could they redefine the unseen stories around you to coincide with the authenticity of your own vision?
The universe is a stage, and every second plays the role of a silent messenger of the meaning I attribute to my being. The Creator also sees, through my eyes, all that is contained in the infinity of the moment, letting everything happen as if time were suspended between dream and reality.
On the seafront, the waves dance to a hypnotic rhythm and the sun reflects its light in their foam, creating a visual symphony. A young acrobat defies gravity with every jump, and his moves are poetry written in the blue sky. Passers-by watch in fascination, and their silence says more than any words. I watch too, feeling that each of his leaps gives me the freedom that I can only find if I have the courage to break free from limitations.
Suddenly, the words of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, from The Little Prince, pop into my mind : "What is essential is invisible to the eye."Only now do I realize that the moments I live are not just images, but symbols of a deeper freedom, hidden in everyday life. Life is a mirror of the soul, and its beauty becomes visible only to those who open their hearts to the details overlooked by eyes that do not know how to look. Between dream and reality, between light and dark, we discover that we are not just observers, but creators of our own stories.
The acrobat's jumps seem to unite the sky with the earth, and the looks of the passers-by turn into reflections of their own search. The sea breeze caresses my face, and for a moment I feel like I am part of this universal cycle of interconnections and rebirth. An old man with an ice cream in his hand is standing in the shade of a gas station, and his gaze exudes a deep peace. It's as if time has stopped for him, giving him a moment of eternity. In another corner, a salesman smiles at me through a shop window, his simple gesture sending me a silent message: small connections with others give meaning to our existence.
In an eternity where reunion and loss harmoniously intertwine, how can you redefine your role as a creator in the face of ephemerality?
People's faces, whether smiling or surprised, give me answers without question. Are they my mirror, or am I their mirror? Perhaps this is all part of a wonderful life, a continuous spectacle of small moments that, together, become eternity. In the end, the Creator remains that mystery that weaves together existence, making himself invisible where everything seems visible.
In this perpetual search for self-discovery through the mirror of the world, every moment becomes a celebration of the miracle of existence. Like a fragile balance between loneliness and belonging, between nostalgia and hope, life unfolds in a succession of magical moments. They remind me that I am simultaneously alone and deeply connected to everything around me. Each moment is a subtle reflection between what is visible and what remains incomprehensible, outlining a universe of infinite emotions.
I still believe in the power of creation beyond any imposed limits. In this way, I assume the role of a creator who passionately embraces any form of mirroring, uniting universal experiences in an act of discovery and understanding. God is also here, in the moment I live. Like me, He looks at everything as goodbye, but always lives, without death. I would like to be able to encompass the infinite, in the form of God, so that I can always remember myself - the one who was lost and found again in the beauty of life...
Turning introspection into creative testimony means redefining your role as a creator, keeping moments forever alive in your memory and enriching them with your own worldview.
What is essential remains invisible to the eye , especially when the truth is revealed in silence, through correspondence with a creator who outlines his work, beyond the limits of ordinary perception. I say this in the conditions where appearances become deceptive, giving way to a process of deep introspection, starting from the consideration that the essence of things cannot be reduced to what is seen. But what you feel when what you see becomes a living extension of a work of art.
