≥
pocket universe
Gonçalo S. F.
YEAR: 2019
DEGRAU Lisboa
Words are ancient things,but what we do with them is always new.The words in this book are the result of a year’s writing in the most diverse corners of the world, with
a particular focus on islands where I am surrounded by the sea and the most varied silences.They are fleeting impressions of existence, (almost as fleeting as existence itself).Words that came to me as I letmy eyes wander over this business of existing and which encapsulate the strangeness of being alive.A macro view, verging on abstraction.That thing that happens when we open our eyes wide.Blurring, invisibility through proximity.
‘God is invisible because he isso close’
__Chuang Tzu
In what I am writingThere is more silenceThan words.
_
The clamour of the momentPrevents me from hearingThe eternal.
_
Like a beggarThe world insistsOn knocking at my door.
_
I pursueThe restlessnessOf the waters.
≥
pocket universe
YEAR: 2019
DEGRAU Lisboa
Words are ancient things,but what we do with them is always new.The words in this book arethe result of a year’s writing in the mostdiverse corners of the world, with
a particular focus on islands where I am surroundedby the sea and the most varied silences.They are fleeting impressions of existence,(almost as fleeting as existence itself).Words that came to me as I letmy eyes wander over this business of existingand which encapsulate the strangeness of being alive.A macro view, verging on abstraction.That thing that happens when we openour eyes wide.Blurring, invisibility through proximity.
In what I am writingThere is more silenceThan words.
_
The clamour of the momentPrevents me from hearingThe eternal.
_
Like a beggarThe world insists
On knocking at my door.
_
I pursueThe restlessnessOf the waters.
‘God is invisible because he is so close’
__Chuang Tzu
Gonçalo S. F.
≥
pocket universe
YEAR: 2019
DEGRAU Lisboa
Words are ancient things,but what we do with them is always new.The words in this book arethe result of a year’s writing in the mostdiverse corners of the world, with
a particular focus on islands where I am surroundedby the sea and the most varied silences.They are fleeting impressions of existence,(almost as fleeting as existence itself).Words that came to me as I letmy eyes wander over this business of existingand which encapsulate the strangeness of being alive.A macro view, verging on abstraction.That thing that happens when we openour eyes wide.Blurring, invisibility through proximity.
In what I am writingThere is more silenceThan words.
_
The clamour of the momentPrevents me from hearingThe eternal.
_
Like a beggarThe world insists
On knocking at my door.
_
I pursueThe restlessnessOf the waters.
‘God is invisible because he isso close’
__Chuang Tzu
