They seem to have travelled a long, long way. We can’t call them old, neither young. They just are. They are all the time in the world.
Look at Portuguese marble. Once primitive sponges and algae, it grows, it sediments, it changes, unnoticed. Until one day, we look it in the veins and it’s a slice of infinity.
They emerge from a series of battles like Earth itself did millions of years ago. It’s a slow movement for life, to thrive. And then they realize: you don’t fight time, you glide it.
It’s a delicate wave that takes us to new territories never forgetting where we came from. It’s majestic and it’s natural.
It is what it is, whenever it is. All elements know this. Change and crystallization build the language of time.
“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.”
We are metamorphic humans. We are Stoners.
Stoners – Slices of infinity