Probably i´m in not condition of writting right now. In the heart of
this moment i´m listening to Bowie singing about a Rebel while some weird smoke comes from my neighbor´s window. Which makes me remember a very recent time when someone in the building decided to throw some Hiroshima mass-murdering ant poison.
About a month ago i was riding an art collector´s pick up with his family in the aftermath of a huge thunderstorm. In this city, rain is not a gentle phenomena. It pours down furiosly: people´s houses are flooded, trees fall down, power shuts down and so on. I was so happy i was on board this powerful vehicle i even said out out: «Oh how lucky are we to be on this truck, no harm will come to us» I had not ended uttering this words when the all-mighty vehicle stopped on its tracks, something happened it broke down. A funny whipslash kinda noise came from the motor. What followed was a massive black out and the slowest and most crowded taxi drive of my entire life. I got home at 2 am completely knackered and entirely convinced that my collector is completely barmy. This sorta things only happen to him. And i am supposed to be the crazy artist. Jesus.
I have to tell all of you that on my way home from the engraving workshop, about an hour ago, i saw a flock of little black birds. Hundreds of them, flying in a river-like formation, making the most beautiful noise with their fluttering wings. I wish i was Tiresias right now, for he could interpret the future through bird-watching.