Although our memory may betray us, at the beginning of time we ran, hunted, and ate alongside animals and trees; between us and the wild beasts there was no distinction: the bellow was our language, and the howl was our poetry. Before us came the ritual that sustained existence. Suddenly, consciousness burst forth and found us naked in the forest. Over the centuries, we have built one civilization upon another to cover up that primordial nakedness, and with it, we have merely entered another forest: one full of noise, of lights always on, of rituals with no apparent purpose. Fortunately, there is always someone who remembers, some guide who summons us to the memory of the origin before the supposed domestication of silence, of animals, and of our darkness. Armando González Torres is that reckless mentor who shakes us with truths to stir within us the thirst for the sacred, for the sublime everyday, for the silence that precedes song. His poetic aphorisms, uttered one by one, help us recover the rhythm of a forgotten but latent existence. He gives us the certainty that, if we keep time with him, we could end up dancing in the wrong wood.