In the open sea (When I’m creating)
One unfolds the sails according to the wind, moderates the tensions of the ropes and relies on mirages. Offshore, with the surrounding horizon line dividing two planes, the senses become lethargic. Nothing new can be expected from the anodyne vastness. It doesn’t matter where the rudder turns: the landscape is the same. Even worse is if one gets bored and decides to let go or lower the candles: you must continue until something happens in the form of a memory, an unforeseen stimulus or a trick of the mind.
When that happens, I wander around the ship, go from the cabin to the deck, go through the spaces and leave the instruments ready waiting for inspiration to arrive.
We must be alert even in the most unexpected or absurd circumstances. Creation is only an instant. What comes next is the way in which that creation manifests itself.
In a small sea, the size of a tub, someone shouted “Eureka.” This is how you navigate when an exalted state of lucidity wakes up, making sense of everything.