First published in Spanish, English and Italian in Spazio Umano/ Human Space. International MagazineBook of Art and Literature. 1/1989, pp. 20-24
An image: of a river and its tributaries, the waters of which flew backwards. Even more backwards, at the beginning of the image, the starting point of a stream. Backwards, to the very centre of the rock from where once a fountain sprang out like a stone throw towards the future.
I read this again. Mouths later I went back home and I’m looking out of the window.
An image: a man is sketching another man’s face.
An image: a carpet like a map, creases like hills, wrinkles like valleys, hundreds of lines like cartographic notes with plenty of rivers.
I go back to the window. As if I were waiting for a conviction that doesn’t arrive or that was here while I was out and that has vanished now. A conviction that is almost only a supposition.
An image: an image generating another one, an image implicitly involving the following one.
Towards the other side of the window, some trees, telegraph poles and wires. Towards the bottom —even more backwards— one sees the shed of the house where my brother, now dead, has been living for some time.
I went back home with a drawing to create a sculpture: a woman like a top, a bell on one arm, on the other a razor.