Zenoescalera

On one of those nights when the sun and moon kissed in Taurus, I painted my first portrait. I looked at his face and his piercing eyes like those of a panther took possession of me. Wax-filled hands touched the paper and where a pretty face and jet-black hair was supposed to be, I got him inside.

I look at it and see that the blues predominate, which together with the ochres form the stairway that takes me up to heaven, that brings me down to earth. The red eye transmits strength, courage and courage to me.

Blue takes over the work and forms water and sky. They transmit to me the temperance of the horse. Behind and eyelid an eye is hidden as if it had the tranquility and calm that we find in older people. I continue further in and I see a lagoon surrounded by pine trees, where the land is dear and pure air is breathed. The horses return at sunset in search of shelter and if one is left outside, the others know that they will soon return home even at night.

That red keeps calling my attention and that force contacts me with a lion. I feel the warrior who gets up when he falls, who kneels when he believes and that his instinct protects him.