I walk down a downtown street, one of those that is neither crowded nor empty, and that in-between state allows me to truly see. I could swear Almodóvar just walked by. A few steps ahead, when I turn my head, I think I recognize Andy Warhol. Of course, it isn’t really them, but for a few seconds, they are.
I start noticing the people around me more closely. I realize that we are all “famous,” even if we don’t know it. Everyone has something they do well, a quiet talent, even those who seem to have none. Perhaps especially them.
Suddenly, every person walking beside me becomes the author of something important. I don’t know exactly what, and I’m not concerned with finding out. Some knowledge is spoiled the moment it is named.
What I do see clearly is style. That particular way of being in the world. The unique way each person occupies their body, their time, their path. A shine, a rhythm of one’s own. A flow. Not fashion, but proof of being oneself effortlessly.
(Because walking, of course, shows you being yourself effortlessly. How exhausting it would be to go through life walking without being yourself. Walking over and over relaxes the body, adapts it to spaces and surroundings, and allows it to move freely according to your needs. No matter how much you try to fake your walk, there comes a point when you are already being yourself and you haven’t even noticed.)
Photography by Diego Sebastián.
