Spanish is a foreign language from my perspective. The language I should speak is Aymara. Nonetheless Spanish is, alas, the only language we can use to aspire to a higher education. So I don’t feel attached to it, when kid I always won the contests about redacting compositions but, as it happens me with English too, I am not sure why the reader could find it nice composed. I just joint words like a kind of smith trying to give it a rhythm. In English I like so much the alliteration, I dunno, I think in sumthin’ like:
In Wotan’s world, worthy words weaving with wisdom; Hela’s blending a blind blade, an unknown anathema in her heart hardened by despair.
And well, that’s the way I think in languages, of course it’s not perfect. Without understanding completely them but judging their sounds I think Quechua is the perfect language to say words of honey; Aymara to speak the truth; French the language of feminine sensuality (but it sounds soft in men); European Spanish the dialect of masculine sensuality (but it sounds harsh in women); Argentinian Spanish the dialect of elegance, almost like a tango; German the language to read ideas; English to sing and Italian to read the Divine Comedy.
The photograph is part of a long project I’m doing and perhaps it’s going to take a year more. I want to write in Italian a series of photographs inspired in, with Borges’ complete works, my favorite book. Dante’s Divine Comedy.Westerners in my country read it as a book of horror, attracted by the landscapes of hell. I’m not westerner so I read it as a book of a marvelous exploration to a world never seen before. To me is fantastic and I read it since I was eight years old. I love this book so much. The maternal surname and gray-green eyes of my grandfather indicate that perhaps we’ve something of Italians but if that happened there is nothing in our language or culture that survived. I’m sure an Italian would read it quite differently to the way I read it. Time will tell.