LOVE….The first and last frontier.

In a state of pure and simple reality, existence and nature do not understand fences, padlocks and locks. Barriers to protect and preserve only our fears, movies, lacks or dependencies.

Just as truth, freedom and love “without definite forms” in an authentic, natural, pure and whole state, where near the top of reaching the illumination of the last frontier, “the intense begins to become extensive.”

The noble and intrepid traveler who approaches the last frontier step by step is aware that those old oropeles masks are falling one by one, or perhaps they all fade together in one stroke, accomplices of our walk between absurd lies and ostentatious Laurels, unbeatable scenic performances of Euripides or Aristophanes, worthy of filling up to the last seat of the very stands of a Greek theater.

“That which we lock so much, sooner or later one day will claim your freedom.”

 

candado 2

 

Near the top, an ancient breeze forgotten in time welcomes while thoroughly cleaning and removing make-up every pore of our face, until reaching the simple and delicate lightness of a feather. What comes next is already something intimate, so I invite each person to experience their own joy.

The fragility, vulnerability and lightness of this pen only has a cavity to stay suspended in the air with Truth, Dignity, Beauty and Love “without forms”. And of the latter that we carry so much in our mouth and pronounce constantly; ….. The word Love!!. ¿What do we know about him?

¿What is Love? .. Almost nobody answers me to that question openly !! .. That which makes us so crazy or very whole, that we want to handle and that really has no handling, so I love it in itself. Little or nothing we know about him, we only have the concept of wanting to shape him like almost everything, and even as a claim. ¿How to Love without expecting anything in return? …… ¿How to Love without retaining? .. And as we love to shape everything, if we claim or retain , I no longer believe it is love, it will be possession or claim..

Perhaps we know something about falling in love, apart from a biochemical and psychological response metaphorically compared to the bewitching of a long feverish or hypnosis state, and I would even dare to say of a temporary or temporary state of possession, and in your wake up, ¿sweetie or Love? And in some occasion, rejection or dependence, and if we curling the curl until some film that we have manufactured or copied.

A few weeks ago taking these photographs reminded me of that 20-year-old fashion of putting padlocks on the balustrade of the bridges and throwing the key into the sea, or the river so that it rusts and cannot open or release. Although the origin of this fashion of lovers is already very old throughout the world.
A few years ago in “Pont des Arts” Paris, some sections of the balustrade of the bridge fell to the Seine River due to the weight and rust of the locks. Nature continues its course, everything we enclose ends up oxidizing, true love does not think understand of borders and padlocks.
Years later, in some other countries, they wanted to promote the placement of open padlocks so that they could remove them if they damaged the urban furniture.

We humans always turning to the absurd beliefs of following fashion, and with the passage of time as a consolation prize we are gradually losing our own identity.

 

candado 1

 

¿And what do we know about LOVE in capital letters? … Maybe we know more about fear than about Love itself.

And how much do we know about Bleeding Love, Supplier Love, Love towards the entire Universe, Humanity, Life, and even the unknown?

“That which you try to escape will always chase you. Face it openly, accept it.”

This beautiful song that I heard many years ago worth taking off the hat and Love openly, like that feather that is held in the air.

 

My love bothers you, my love of youth
And my love is an art in virtue
My love bothers you, my love without a mask
And my love is an art of peace
My love bothers you, my love of humanity
And my love is an art in its age
My love bothers you, my love of supplier
And my love is a major art
My love is my enchanted garment
It is my extensive abode
It’s my endless space
My love doesn’t need a frontier
As spring does not prefer garden
My love is not market love
Because a bleeding love
It is not lucrado’s love
My love is all I have
If I deny it or sell it
Why breathe?
My love bothers you, my love of youth
And my love is an art in virtue
My love bothers you, my love without a mask
And my love is an art of peace
My love bothers you, my love of humanity
And my love is an art in its age
My love bothers you, my love of supplier
And my love is a major art
My love is not one love
But soul of everything that needs healing
My love is a love below
That the future brought me to make it steep
My love, the most in love
He is also forgotten in his old pain
My love opens chest to death and unleashes its luck
With a better time
My love, this hardened love
It is a bright sun
For who deserves love.

(Por Quién merece Amor) Silvio Rodríguez.

 

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