Illness, pain, suffering… Death… What if I have hope of being cured of cancer? The green robe, my naked body. As? Of course, I have to lie down and get into the machine. I always wondered about the beauty of devices. Yes, any of them, even the domestic ones! Yes, I have hope! I’m cold from everything, from my body. Also the material that the goddess of radiotherapy is made of. How interesting the beauty of its shape! It amazes me to see how that form is made to heal. The design that arises from our own need to heal us. I enter like a womb. In an empty space that welcomes me. It doesn’t scare me.
I am left with the light, with the laser beam, with the technical perfection of what is going to burn me. May I ask why you have to burn to heal? Marks on my skin like a beef. In the relaxation that the moment gives me I think of the blacksmith and the fire when he shod the horses in Agaete. The iron Red penetrated to the bones and a special smell arose from the burnt flesh. ¡Horseshoe It is a beautiful symbol! A lucky design! I go blank thinking. I don’t know what to do. I look at the ceiling. And I see topical and standard material almost from an airport. I search in my sick loneliness for a place to hold my thoughts and dreams. Can’t. Would you let me? The precision of the healing poison that penetrates is felt in the body. Can I talk to you? Can you talk?
I see on the cold, inhospitable ceiling, something that is not there, but that I pursue as when I looked for resemblance in the clouds or the figuration in the humid saltpeter of the walls. Wonderful! As time has passed! Was there time?
I see my body that comes out and slides from the inside that sheltered me, the almost fictional machine that vomits me out.
Was there something painted on the ceiling? I saw flowers, Nature embraced me while the laser illuminated my sick cells. Is there really not a refined abstraction on the wall above my body, softly painted with beautiful colors?
I confess that I entertained myself daydreaming, inventing forms, turning to Mother Nature, to find a universe that comes from art.
Does it cure beauty?
Holy Cross of TenerifeAll Saints Day,
Tenerife, 2008. Opening of the TEA
