Sopro (breath, blow), or the art of clearing the way and orchestrating the occasion to take “the great risk of being real” (Clarice Lispector), of affirming one’s reality.
Forever breathing, breathing before me and surely after I’m gone too, life makes me “be continuing” it even when I think I’m beginning something. Better blow, better breathe then, and put a pause on thought for a moment. After all language is not only syntax, but also the employment of each word. Ineffable parallax: “words are also actions” (M. F. Molder). What do they move in me when I start to say them? An inquiry, therefore, over the phrasing of our concerns and the distance vis-à-vis of life itself. Continue.