The true human being is not the one who says
“My father was,” but the one who says, “Here I am.”
Standing in the light, free from shadows,
I shape my existence from the pulse of the moment,
Leaving the past to echo on the horizon.
Here, meaning is born from the present,
And words blossom like desert flowers.
No lineage defines me,
Only action rewrites me.
A platform for presence,
Where every event meets a memory,
And every memory blossoms in a present that never fades.
Perceiving, influencing, and interacting with the external
Even a child knows how valuable the forest is. The fresh, breathtaking smell of trees. Echoing birds flying above that dense magnitude. A stable climate, a sustainable diverse life and a source of culture. Yet, forests and other ecosystems hang in the balance, threatened to become croplands, pasture, and plantations.
A rural landscape of green and brown leading to a brilliant blue ocean and a slightly cloudy sky, executed in oil paints.