When “Something” Speaks… Let it BE

As complex and uncertain as a moment in life might be, that is how some things happen to exist. I left my guard down and witnessed within. There is no better way to explain what I saw, than telling the story as it happen to me.


Loneliness is a strange thing…

It has the power to summon such a wide range of emotions and place them randomly on the canvas of experience. Loneliness dressed for the occasion, and takes the feminine discontent and expectancy lurking from the mirror before an important event.

It might be sweet as nostalgia or really painful as a loss.
It might savor hope and become yearning in the long run.
It might be unbearable as despair, or eternal as the dark nights of the soul.

Loneliness is a friend I have known since long ago, there is no use in running or pretend I must go.
It can come for a visit and hang on with one or the many walking by or just engaged in small talk.
It might post a picture and join the cyber space, circling around words and events wishing to be heard.

Loneliness is a strange thing, I must say once more…
It can stir the invisible substance where things grow and turn into high speed intentions and creative flow.
It might happen to be a serene getaway for the silent longings rising from the beyond, and soaring as flying metaphors of the heart’s call.

Loneliness knocked and I opened the door…
She waited patiently as I sang my song.
Then took the beads and strung them up.
One by one the space filled up,
Reeling words sketching my soul

Loneliness can surprise us too with the colored face of the truth…
There is beauty and magic in the painful hope voicing it sadness openly to the Gods.
A string of consciousness might reveal the treasure hidden in a sudden tear and from the solitude of who we are, offer something to that other who might as well searching is, about why loneliness is such a strange thing.

solitude 1


Today I feel lonely
Lonely as the seed awaiting to become

Loud and messy Life sings
Its song just an echo leaving no print
Bouncing from one gesture to another
In nameless faces and dreams
Vibrant Waves pass by
To dye in routine

Today I feel lonely
Lonely and forgotten as the mist touched by sunlight

Rushing steps and cheerful laughs
Chirping birds and caution warns
A cacophony of vital wise
Running through the veins of ordinary life
A memory blinks of a time in the past
Where I was too a note
In this music blast

Was I really ever one..
A note dancing
In this music staff?

Today I feel lonely
Lonely as the dissonance in a plain ballade

It is not that I’m alone
Noise and sparks
Colors and forms
Move around and call along
So bright and bold
Unchanging and dull
The profane reigns
Claiming to be
The word of the Gods

Today I feel lonely
Lonely as only the heart might know
When dwelling in the void left
By a nostalgic Soul

I look in the mirror of dangled sighs and solitary tears
Farewell petals and secrets hopes
Caressed by invisible frontiers
Unspoken words in aging ink
Remember the future
Of timeless kisses
Unwillingly mourning the past long gone
And surrendered unlived

Today I feel lonely
Lonely as one for whom the other is lost
Or yet to be known
One for whom
Her true reflection is no longer enough

Today I feel lonely
And wish I was not
I seek the promise of the encounter
And search the stars for a response
Twinkle, twinkle
Far beyond
As I wonder if above
Angels keep all dream notes

Today I feel lonely
And nothing but you can fill the void
You dearest, a mirage of joy
Eternal reverie of a solitary soul
Casting silent spells
To place a face to love


Mercedes Calcano
July 2015


Colored Veils, the Art of Dreams…

Wondering about life and its challenges, about those things that inevitably come to mind in the midst of inquiry and the quest for purpose; I found myself asking, why?

Why do I do what I do?

And because Art seems to have a bigger plan for me than what I am prepared to admit, I found myself asking:

Really? Art?

This time though, not from the point of view of what logic and experience have taught me, but from that fragile place of secrecy, where your soul and heart whisper and you are afraid that others might listen…



My art is made of dreams
Is about finding the essence of things
Is about those lines, shapes, strokes and stains that bear the energy of creation,
The seed of becoming,
The muscle of life

My art dives in colors and layers looking for the authentic
Rescuing it from the veils of the constructed
And organizing it in a kaleidoscopic view of existence

My art is in love with movement and continuity
It travels space and time in its quest for the origin
And blends in the dream of transcendence

My art is not mine; at least not from the one in the mirror
Is the strange and magic exploration of my hands
With an unknown destiny
Is a refuge for my soul, or perhaps the way it speaks to me?

My art aspires to be a haven without blame for others and me to reside
A realization of our unique thread in the fabric of being alive
And how the Cosmos secretly stitches and weaves
Encounters and loses,
The farewell of the old
The fate of greatness we call hope

Sorry my dear reader, I got distracted again…

You were saying?

Why do you do what you do?

A magic question; no? Heaven can tell…

A Friend Still to be Known


ConnectionSlowly pouring your soul in 3 acts
The maze of thoughts seems more a sweet plot of the heart
Tricking you to finally rediscover your true self
And pushing to get out of your brain
Introversion pressing into the magic of connection
Living many lives and times in the split of a second…
Oh! Do I relate to the feeling of trying to make sense of such experience!
It foresees what we cannot dare to imagine for fearing we would somehow delimit it
But essence my dear friend is unforgettable
Even when we touch it while dreaming