Between sunset and sunrise

are the last coat strokes, the last puffs of another day. The sunset, as familiar and banal as it is, is generous in its presence, because it does not deny its vision to anyone, but capricious in its essence, because it hides it in its immensity. Few are lucky enough to experience a sunset in their life, to reach that second when time and the world stop to admire for a moment the beauty of the untamed.

The purest power, the most precise coincidence. Because a sunset can change a life, it can irreparably change a person’s psyche and make that unfortunate person fall under the spell of learning to live in the moment. Because the sun has this talent, it is the wizard of life, consciousness modifier. The sun can make you want to live beyond the day to day.

For those who have no interest in searching for its fantastic beauty, the sun is a mere illuminator, an abacus with which to count the days. But what looks at us in the sky is something else, something almost mystical. The sun, disciplined and brutal, dispel the darkness of the earth and illuminate billions of stories it must be said, the sun is the conductor of the orchestra, the sun is another actor in this tragedy.

The sun, in the absolute distance of its contempt, gives us its rays so that we can face life. We use your life to live ours and steal your time to conquer fear. Because the sun, inanimate and natural, has little regard for miserable life distant microorganisms, from civilized primates in search of destruction. The sun gives us the most perfect in that same apathy and lack of appetite sunsets and the richest sunrises.

But his magic doesn’t last, like everything in this reality, it has to be balanced, then night comes. The black cloth that conquers the sky, by the fire of the full sun.

The night eats the world, and we remain unprotected in the face of neglect. But these dangers are never fought alone, these struggles are always there they fight with society. The moon is manifested as a careful mother. The moon is that silver shield that dominates the blackened jet of space above our heads, is that diamond nailed to the top of our shadows. The moon, brown and clear, dresses to leave her lovers spellbound.

It is so exotic that, like a an arrogant deity, covered with shiny flakes the sky of the one who observes it. The moon, as a guide and guardian, provides shelter to those who still howl after him and protects those who silently confess their love to him. The moon is a wonderful mirror in which the world is reflected, the most perfect point, the most precious goal. Because the moon, in love and lustful, pulls strings for those who see a thousand stories in it. Because the moon is a witness to that story and protagonist own stories.

We live in the middle of a a bubble of chance, crammed on all horizons with beautiful occasions We travel this road called life and although time tramples us all, there are few who raise their heads, from time to time, to appreciate gentle strokes of life which the stars give us. Ephemeral models of things larger than the individual, far from survival and foreign to existence. Because aesthetics, beauty and art are to the soul what water is to the oceans.