We were full of unexpected moments, in this unexpected silence, replete of unexpected news and unexpected faces. In an unexpected way it happens that, from this unexpected corner arises an unexpected magic and suddenly everything runs underneath our feet. The present is cherised by unexpected futures and a legion of unexpected hands attend to this unexpected war to fight along with the madmen that in this unexpected Madrid, filled with unexpected moons and dreams to foresee, we yell at the naked desert, at the top of our lungs, in an unexpected language, full unexpected omens.
Baal didn’t change his position in all day and as always, she respected his meditation, observing him out of the corner of her eye, he was all she had. A great master, patient and wise, a master who also attended her mother untill she died. He was everything she loved, except that short sword almost without adornments that had already transformed into an extrension of her arm.
When I was moving around Amarna, things were not easy. In my beggar years I used to wander around the surrounding areas of Ajenaton’s temples and palaces. There I met a black cat, a female cat that mewed at night and was observing me from a prudent distance, just once she passed between my legs making her tail touch me.
Jesús Vilches (Hatter)
2011. 365 days wrapped up as a gift. 12 months to release. We are children with brand new shoes (or at least half new). We need them to walk down this crooked road.
Someone has taken this seriously. Our space gives us a new dress. New York shows itself transparent from its ashes and dust. It reminds us the end of the journey. Neon lights count the seconds of an Apocalypse that is about to arrive. Our Damokles sword will fall long before. However…