– Y el Atomium se había caído…- dije.
Adriana me observaba perpleja desde el otro lado de la mesa. Su mirada oscura como la entrada de una mina me invitaba a adentrarme en ella.
– ¿Cómo que el Atomium se había caído? ¿Me tomas el pelo? Eso es imposible….- me contestó.
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Tuesday 11 September 2001
One of those days, never to forget. I was at work in Brussels when I saw it all on TV, as I left through the lobby to catch the Schuman train. The Twin Towers in New York had been attacked by so-called Islamic terrorists. They hijacked two airliners and flew, suicide mode, straight into the skyscrapers. The buildings caught fire and collapsed, in a cloud of smoke and dust. Thousands died. Terrible. A friend (and he wasn’t alone) said “The news coverage made it all look like a disaster movie“.
Thursday 11 March 2004
Another day, never to forget. Again, I was work. This time my wife called to say “There’s been a massive terrorist attack on several trains around Atocha in Madrid. Big explosions. The government says it’s the Basque terrorists but it can’t be. They always claim responsibility. It must have been Islamic terrorists“. There were gaping holes in the train carriages, with people, dead, dying and injured, strewn along the railway tracks. The death toll mounted soon. Thousands were wounded. A big political row began over who did it and why.
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Saturday 18 November at 5 p.m.
“Le cœur bat tant qu’il peut” (Karl-Ove Knausgaard, La mort d’un père)
Ce soir, je suis resté tard dans mon atelier. Je voudrais travailler mais je n’y arrive pas. Dehors, la nuit tombe à une vitesse brutale. La toile devant moi est presque invisible mais je n’ai pas pris la peine d’allumer. La pénombre convient mieux aux souvenirs balbutiants qui émergent de ma mémoire.
Pour les rattraper, je plonge en moi-même comme un nageur solitaire dans un lac profond. Ces moments éparpillés nourrissent le tableau qui est en train de naître en moi. Leur goût est acidulé et enivrant à la fois. Je ferme les yeux pour les savourer. Continue reading
(Painting by Hieronymus Bosch: Ascent of the Blessed)
Para el corazón, la vida es sencilla: latir mientras pueda. Mientras pueda latir, claro. ¿Quién había sido el imbécil que había dicho esa frase, con la pomposidad pseudo modesta con que se expresan algunos escritores, como si tuvieran algo interesante que enseñarnos? ¿Sencilla la tarea del corazón?
click on pic
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