Dance ´Til They Drop

One day you wake up and when you look out of the window you see how thousands of fractions of time, stained colours overlap. Then everything fits; emotions, feelings, thoughts, reds, fuchsias, greens, yellows, purples, all rigorously sorted, with the precision of an orbit, the tenacity of a frequency. Spaces that breathe in silence with precision, rhythm and courage. The tune catches us and takes us deep inside. Flashes of life laden with the past, because although art is new, it is always old.
I realize that the window frame limits my vision. I take three, four, five steps and continue walking until I put my head out. The fractions of time are endless and I want to follow them with my eyes until the point they reach the light. Volume without shadows. Multicoloured landscapes where geometry rules. Segments, lines, arcs, each carrying out its function in equilibrium. Mixing laughter with tears, jokes and reproaches with doubts and decisions. Shaken balance, existence. And just as life comes in without asking permission, so all these colours enter our memories, and once inside smile and dance until they drop.

Rosa Fuentes. Text for the Collection Imaginarium, by of Patricia Bonet. Painter. Castellón 2012.

Night Vision

Half asleep, you try to think back,
squeeze your eyes tight shut,
watch colours streak
across the deathly emptiness of
bands of blue from childhood skies,
untroubled above fields of poppies
- scarlet -
that flame into a burning landscape,
then run into lakes of blood.

Look again:
below the darkening clouds,
- rose-pink -
a single line of hope.

Wake up now!
The colours surround you;
you must paint your own scene.

David Duncombe. Poet. Text for the Collection Imginarium, by of Patricia Bonet. Matlock, UK. 2012


110*196. Acrílico sobre tela