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hurrengoa
feelings and senses    The idea was already there. All your feelings needed was to cross it and feel it. One day, your eyes see it and this image appropriates everything into you; it puts it on your brain. There, it mixes with what you are and it becomes yours.
In order to keep it glorious, you do not penetrate or contaminate it, you just want to throw up... it’s time to communicate... first, the whole body. Then, you work in what will become a wall; you imagine it, it is part of you. You scratch its name onto acetate. A millimeter cut, to appear in impossible islands, cutters, patience and ideas are ready to cross your limit. The idea you want appeared in the road, the body yells at the world.
With a quick glance, you make sure everything is close to you; paintings with strange names, who is the shadow of the black one? Muzzles, gloves, cassettes... It’s usually at night; the moon looks at you and it meets your look, while the ears listen to the silence.
The wall hopes that you break its aseptic grays; the hands are full of paint and your head reminds you of the gloves that you always forget. It doesn’t matter. Your senses get drunk with that subordination smell; you want to speak with the world.
When you are done, you pick up the template and analyze how the idea lives in the world. You go away with a strange mixture of feelings with the fullness that drawing and communicating creates and with the uncertain feeling about the authenticity of this communication.
You get lost in the silence of the night, only to come back at dawn. Somebody stares at you and smiles, everything was worth while, the idea goes back to its origin; somebody will identify it again.

Einsamkeit. La senda del dinosaurio.