Humans invented art to see beneath the surface. Art is everywhere and, today, I was admiring my gallery of abstract collectives. The bus rides are emphasized by the humming of hope and restless passengers, each one with a different destination, different intentions. They congregate to separate once more. They are illuminated by pastel shades of the Merida sunset on my ride home and I cannot help but succumb to curiosity of their future whereabouts. I sit with strangers but I am kept company by their silence. The breeze from the cracks in the windows reach the lucky voyagers who crack smiles from the smallest gust of wind. The strangers, the scenery, the simple passerby are all temporary. I looked beyond the surface of a stranger's face, past the soft sunset, and I found art.