Photos and text, six hands
The challenge, with images, HERE
They are only stones, cold. They are only holes repeating forever. They are only shadows, black, playing to be people, spying, running away, weeping.
And the sea on the background, endless, and the sky in calm.
* * *
You and me, two windows. I look at you, but you don’t look at me. I am looking, but I don’t watch you. I am looking, I am looking for you… Where are you? In the sky there is a blue stain on a cotton curtain. One brushstroke, one poor skilled painter. You and me, two windows, two black stains… Where are you?
* * *
– I am afraid of heights.
– You are afraid to falling.
– I am afraid of heights – you insist.
– You are afraid to falling – I insist.
– Is it not the same?
– It is not the same.
* * *
Freedom is a sky without borders, it is an space opening to the infinite, it is a handful of frayed clouds pursuing each other without fear of falling.
Freedom is a door, it is a threshold, it is an opportunity…
Freedom has to be walking through. Are you coming?
* * *
Jordina and Jordi decided to jump. The two of them at the same time. “Is it not going to be dangerous?” Jordi stammered. “It’s only a meter!” Jordina exclaimed. Jordina and Jordi climbed to the windowsill, one window for each one. Jordina and Jordi counted to three, each one looking at his floor. Jordina felt on the kitchen floor, happy to be live. Jordi felt from a sixth floor. He had never seen Sesame Street.
* * *
– It’s like… I don’t know.
– Like… What?
– You are in front of me, but...
– But… What?
– You smile at me, and nothing would make me happier than embrace you, and I know that you want it too...
– And... What?
– Something is between us.
– What?
– Nothing.
[In catalan: Comparti_ments]
