Hello there

and thanks for visiting my website!

Sombra

SOMBRA, AKA. Victor Ruano

I'm a Motion Graphics Designer, AI illustrator, Video Editor, and Fine Artist/Painter. I specialize in creating stunning visual communication and motion graphics systems. I strive to create unique and original artwork that is both visually appealing and functionally effective. I love working with clients to bring their vision to life, and I'm always open to new challenges. If you're looking for an artist who can help you create amazing visuals, then please contact me. I'd be happy to discuss your project with you.

Santasombra logo

santasombra

Instagram Society6 Adobe Stock Saatchi Art Redbubble Facebook Ello Imdb Berlinale LinkedIn Mubi

Feel free to contact us, anytime, anywhere.
victor@santasombra.com

Santasombra

/ Art / Forgetfulness

Forgetfulness

for·get·ful·ness

fərˈɡetfəlnəs/
noun
noun: forgetfulness

lapse of memory.
“she teased him for his forgetfulness”
synonyms: absentmindedness, amnesia, poor memory, a lapse of memory, vagueness, abstraction; More
informalscattiness
“his excuse was forgetfulness”
neglect, heedlessness, carelessness, disregard;
inattention, obliviousness, lack of concern, indifference
“a forgetfulness of duty”
antonyms: reliability, heed.

forgetfulness-victor-ruano-santasombra

Forgetfulness

The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of,
as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.
Long ago you kissed the names of the nine muses goodbye
and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,
and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,
something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,
the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.
Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,
it is not poised on the tip of your tongue
or even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.
It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall
well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those
who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.
No wonder you rise in the middle of the night
to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.

Poem by Billy Collins
Illustration by: Victor Ruano / Santasombra