So, what is the grain or the very first root that makes one continue? Why does one start doing what he does? Why does one continue? Is the ‘poetics of curiosity’ somehow involved in this game?
There is this poem:
Yo quiero ser uno y soy la mitad.
La parte que falta me hace caminar.
Translated: I would like to be one and I am only half. The part which is missing makes me walk.
The present is a present. It helps to work in the moment of ‘now’. And by doing so, we are creating our future and our own history. A history which is also inscribed into our body.
How could we create conditions to shape our own history?
What does it have to do with the day to day banal movements? What does it have to do with tightening your shoes? Or embracing a friend? What is the value of an instant being a point in time? And time being a succession of all instants? What is the value of an instant? What does it have to do with creating something?
It reminds me of this other poem: ‘Caminante, no hay camino’ by Antonio Machado. While researching, we often shared this fragment out of it:
‘Caminante, no hay camino, se hace camino al andar.’
(Walker -traveller- there is no way. The way is being created while walking farther.)
(1) Based on several meetings and dialogues with Enrique Vargas