Outside of Everything

I've always felt out of place anyways. Like most of us, right? ...right?. We are like planets floating on what we think is - the same galaxy.  Too concerned about our own problems, our own front lawns, turning on the lights of our weak pride of being able to stand alone; to not need anyone; to not need anything. To be independent individuals. soledad.

But on that case, we are always stepping out to see what others do, or  maybe locking ourselves in so we can avoid that completely, until it starts raining--inside-- and you have to get out.

This was the first thing I've ever painted with acrylics, as an "adult" (whatever that means).  It's done with the cheapest brushes that would paint  under their own will and craft acrylic that needed an over abundance of layers to leave a mark. It was, of course,  done on cardboard, which was what I had available considering my budget at the time.  So I can't type "oil on fancy canvas with outrageously expensive frame" under this picture. Nah. "craft acrylics on cardboard". Sounds right to me. Everything does.  

So, going back to where I started (how I wished that was really possible !!!), there's another sensation of disbelonging that happens (or at least happens on my planet),  when you leave home and live abroad for a long period of time. I think it's specially so, if this happens when you are young.  The reason, I believe, is that when you move from place A to place B, you 'll still bring the habits, values, ways of thinking and looking at things, hierarchies,  priorities, street names, that park in which you spent so  much time and you bring all this to place B. No one there knows about it or even less cares. So you leave that in a box and learn a new way of looking at things, of prioritizing values, tasks, goals and dreams. You learn new rules for judging, and not just people, but everything. But sometimes... specially when you disagree with any of these rules, you think of place A and how this or that was more fitting and you decide to go back. But when you do so, you already have place B in you , so you'll feel good about certain things but not so much about others. No one there knows about it or even less cares. So you'll box these things too, and before you know it, you just have a pack of boxes with no labels that get all mixed up with the sensation that you'll never fully belong anywhere, but partially, to a lot of places.  But again, I might be wrong.  I probably am, right?

However, there is one single thing that takes it all away and that can be found absolutely anywhere, and that is the horizon. I have trouble living in places in which too many things are covering that single line that takes all my thoughts away and that puts everything on some more convenient perspective, giving me a sensation of space. The horizon line will always have that power to "clear the mind", to take it all away and most of all, to make it feel great that you are just with yourself.

But I do miss "my piece of the line". And that piece is the fragment of horizon that can be seen from the Montevideo boardwalk.  Ever since I was a little kid that line would fix it all. I remember running away from my house when things got rough, or simply "running" away from whatever I didn't like ... Jumping on the skateboard, feeling the wind on my face and arriving to that spot, sitting on that rock,  breathing the ocean breeze and letting the line hug me and hold me and take it all away. It healed my broken mind, it healed my broken heart, it healed my broken me, so many times.  I could always think better there. I could always stop caring or start caring, whichever one I was lacking, and it was all because of her. How I miss that line.

I guess that's the line, but not my line. That's my second or third attempt with paints and it sure is a Uruguayan Sunset with its millions of colors and shapes, but it's not the specific view that would rescue me. 

It's done on, what I now know, is known as Sunday Canvas. This means, cheap canvas for hobbyists, for the amateur, for the not so serious. The funny thing is that the quality of canvas is the same as any other, but it's the size that marks this difference and a big big difference in price. And by size, I don't mean bigger, but just the relative measurements. Yes, there's a million and one ways to rip us off and we are always accepting and reinforcing them, since they give us more vocabulary that make us feel (and lets others know !!!!) that "we know what we are talking about !!!. Fools !

I guess it's getting late. 4:03. Just got home from serving bombs, jager, car, english, irish bombs, to blow out everyone's minds.

I'm running to sleep. I need my line.