[ ]. He believed in infinite time series, in a growing and vertiginous network of divergent, convergent and parallel times.

This web of times that approach, branch, cut off or ignore each other encompasses all possibilities.

                                                          The Garden of Forking Paths

                                                                                                          J.L. Borges

A sustained rhythm of the brush accompanies my pulse, the drawing becomes the extension of experiencing time.

Their interruptions and gestures induce me to be immersed in the small silences. To witness the passage of it in an almost hypnotic state.

Anachronistic images of places I went, I go and return, the light filters and I get lost inside a misty forest, I can feel and smell its humidity. That which surrounds is erased, and we no longer find the faint signs of a possible world, imprecisely perceived. Everything is likely to be modified, within these landscapes that appear fleeting in appearance, a record that loses its contour and transforms into a warp of infinite lines of lived and passed time.