She started as the smallest of seeds. A frontier to be crossed upon, the whirling glass of time, a mirror of her desires not yet fully understood. A smal seed on a never ending field of flourishing things, a pool of life blossoming and decaying, new life to be born, old life to be discovered, an entire sea of living things fighting their fights, amidst the grass, flowering stems, all started as a jump into the unknow of the aquatic realm giving birth to the process. At first just a mechanical reaction, action and reaction, a breath of movement and the heart reveals itself, a tiny white-greenish spot,out of an apparently devoided shell. This was the beginning, a quite modest one. A first strand of hairy filaments attached her to the safety of a solid ground, the whitishing leaves made her connection to the desired destiny, The Sun, now covered by watery clouds, as if resting. This was the first contact, the ignition, the fire brought to the outside while raining. A liquid form transubstanciating. A vapourous cloud of thoughts, electric circuits and neurochemical ways, plasmated on a concrete, palpable skin. Growing down. The heart beat. Growing up. The cycle of seasons to come, the bone. Growing withing, red as the flow, flowing as water, liquid as ice, as a cool summer night on oceanic wishful of desires, an oasis of creation, apparently still, imprinted in the history, now the first step was taken out of oblivion, to where she would eventualy return. But not now. Now, just a stream of vigorous activity, a muscular strenght projecting her, the seed, no longer lifeless, but again an oasis ao that same desert of desires on where streams run free.
Pulsion. Compulsion. Heartbeat. Skindeep. Life and love. Love and life. The seed.
The Beetroot. Chapter 1
Rui Lorga
2017
