My life has always been so busy, that even when I think of a resting place, it is speeding up.

The road was usually the place I found to put my ideas in order. My car becomes a connecting cloud, running almost exclusively to provide a time to think, to organize the whirlwind of ideas.

In it I find a different silence. Unlike what it may seem, they always seem in slow motion to my thoughts. It seems that the friction of the tires with the asphalt generates some kind of energy that calms me down. Practically a mantra.

But in life there is always a “but”. Between 2014 and 2015, these comings and goings became absolutely insane. The silence had turned into a terrible noise. The asphalt, inhospitable. The signs, formerly pointing the way, lost their meaning.

I decided to reframe them. Their symbols were no longer the same. Me either.

I obsessively bought old, rusty signs, more crooked than the curves of a saw, and started to vibrate some of my feelings about them. From stumbling, to the future, passing through frozen landscapes of my travels.

With the help of these new “signs”, I found new meanings on the road of my life after these years.

Portuguese version
GuiCalil_Blog_On the road