up a few days ago al metro en Colón una mujer portando una paloma acurrucada entre los brazos. El animal tenía un aspecto enfermizo.
Colón no es uno de esos lugares en los que alguien vaya a pararse a recoger a un animal enfermo.
Aquella mujer no parecía el tipo de mujer que se detendría a auxiliar a un bicho de la calle.
La compasión que se revela en este gesto me resulta, o, en concreto aquí me resulta, del todo indiferente. No tanto así, en cambio, el hecho de que el gesto supusiese una breve interrupción de ese continuo fluctuante que es la calle Colón, la parada de metro, el vagón. Interrupción sin estrategia, salto improvisado. Pienso entonces en lo dicho en
El tedio en las calles , I think the picture of William Klein, Robert Frank, Saul Leiter, I think that expression of Manuel Delgado, "the city unless its architecture, all that does not stop it solidifies, and see that we space to open our meetings, it can work like hell to the plan, fire running through the streets in unpredictable directions.
There was no way to read the plan and then, you could not expect, that that pigeon sick that day would be part of the passage. No occupant of meters could foresee that someone would introduce such distortion in your life and you know it, probably would have avoided.
Somewhere Morelli says the other in the street gives us not a cinematic reality but rather as a photography. I think it is a perception of space where the substance of which lives overlap between the two forms, as is always the possibility that re-founded, without warning, take a snapshot to go about doing that which served as the backdrop of an urban
complete panoramic providing the pieces for a collective
biography. Biography tenuous, incomplete, difficult to follow the insidious tendency fragments appear when you least expect them, for their ability to be diluted in a moment. Some photographs of Klein-the best, I think, seem to stop at that instant when a pillar of salt, exorcised by the camera will jump into the arena as an agent of the ephemeral.
"The city unless its architecture," said Manuel Delgado, the real urban space, without hypostasis. "There is no choice but to agree to submit to the eyes and the initiatives of others. There is always interacts superficial, but any time you can meet unprecedented developments." If you need to be some tedium in urban life is the need to continue to forget that there
nameless and, I fear, our ability to forget almost no limits. One begets oblivion appropriate gestures in appropriate locations, twisted logic that makes the streets just so we do not own which erases any attempt to return the ownership entirely to plan.
few days ago up to the subway in Columbus a dove carrying a sick woman huddled in the arms, but, alas, a dove sick leave too easily lead to oblivion. Tomorrow someone will come down to the subway with an alligator perfectly healthy as a gesture that reflects the invitation of another gesture, unprecedented development, the unexpected happened. Shock, leg bites and screams in a heaven underground. Still, some will undoubtedly have the scene under the noses go home like every day, died of boredom, dead.
I felt ribs crack, but I continue. For a while I noticed el sabor metálico que producen los golpes en la cara, pero todavía no he visto sangre. Por ahora me centro, encajo los golpes, e intento encontrar un hueco. Acepto el dolor. Paladeo el dolor. Lo disfruto como una lengua áspera que me lame el cuerpo. El sufrimiento no enseña nada; sufrir es siempre innecesario. El dolor, sin embargo, es un gran maestro que sólo es radical y docente cuando se lo acepta. Cuando uno lo niega y rechaza, comienza el sufrimiento. Otro golpe. Esta vez sí, noto una gota derramarse hasta mi boca. El simple notar del corrillo de la sangre, no los golpes, me hace derrumbarme. Justo entonces, el combate se acaba. 
Andrei 
