Egunsentian (At dawn)
Jose Angel Irigaray

Dawn in Mugakosoro, barefoot in the dew, we are inhabited by mountains and valleys shrouded in mist and haze; the landscape of the spirit, playful fragrance, the sequence of colours on the palette of the infinite freely leave and enter your painting.

A walk along the beach in the sand, going and coming beside the sea, an imaginary meeting, conversing in silence, seduced by the life dream, tormented by human destiny, steps followed by the tracks in the sand, like loyal shadows erased again and again by the waves.

Your intimate sensations and paradoxes, a symphony of delicate, beautiful shades have been transformed into painting; mine seek to turn themselves into words as in that conversation which I am now having with you, my dear, and esteemed friend. Evocation-memory, that is why I am writing in the sand egunsentia —dawn— to be erased by the waves at high tide. But the breath of life that cherishes meaning remains over time in all beings and things, in every place, free… In your misty dawn mountains and valleys, in the universe of your internal and reproduced sands.

Figuration of sands, of mountainous profiles in the mist, more real than the reality; they are the horizons of your universe, genuine self-portraits. Immanent presence of absence.

Timeless space, of serenity, of loss and reunion with the being, following the deliberate rhythm of the embrace between the sand and the sea, of the morning mists. In it a mutual nod avoids anxiety, elusive movement, exaltation and deception knowing that we are trapped in the art-trap.

And we drink a toast to the twilight sun. Far away, echoes of the agora, of commercial transactions and similar.

At dawn, egunsentian…