Yesterday I am immersed into the calamity of persons. I’m out in the night looking for astray beings to talk with and making myself vulnerable to the flu-like disease endemic in cold climates. I might begin to talk about their plight but it seems to me that their stories are overgrown and demented in the abyss of forgetfulness most of us do because it’s about their lives . . . isolated and meandering.

As I was sitting, looking cold at the cup of coffee served with milk, my eyes suddenly wandered at the wall looking for sources of comfort. A framed poster vividly captured by a shutterbug caught my interest. It is about this momentous slice of life that made my mind floating in jest and remorse for the rest of the day.

The picture shows a wooden boat with a huge rhino being paddled by a man in the middle of an infinite clear-blue sea; in between large waves hurdling towards the boat. The face of the man has no sign of distress that should jolt the drama that naturally accompanies the strength of the man and the weight of the beast. But there is none. . . No signs of weariness and struggle. The picture was ironically tranquil in its form. Ironically tranquil before my eyes. . .