Text by Jesús Aguado
We are fast; we go very fast. We go fast in our heads, connecting and disconnecting at vertiginous speeds to this and the other; fast in our spirit, that seems more and more like the electric control panel of a nuclear power plant, rather than the simple mirror that angels and fairies used to use for preening before telling us a goodnight story. We run, we hurry, we change, we get agitated, we pull muscles and pant, we travel frantically; in order to arrive where? In order to be or achieve what?
To be able to answer these questions we must learn once again the art of slowness; the art of living without haste, the art of the snail and the turtle. We must cultivate slowness so as not to stumble, so as not to miss anything essential, to stop and enjoy all that is enjoyable and all that can be learned, to talk with our hands, to get excited with emotions that do not flee, to think ideas that think, to feel from the very heart of feelings, to be infinite without having to give up any of our blessed finitudes. And to know what true love tastes like, true love that vanishes like mist when you pounce on it, but yet gathers around you, protects you from the outside and feeds you with loving care (as a baby is fed or a plant watered) when you allow it to grow without haste and without being subject to any of the uncountable tyrannies of time.
Slowness as a life program: does anyone have even a moment to feel this? To embrace it naturally in their existence?
Making ceramics helps to slow down.