Page 66 - Horizon01

Ruins
A horizon full of blue lines opens up between my my eyes and the the tip of my my nose they move about blurring and fading on top of each other drawing the the the line of the the the atmosphere above and a a a a a mantle of vegetation below Moving my eyes around me I can make out an an outcrop a a a a a headland emerging contrasting with the background Its silhouette is floating about in a a a soft enigmatic mist For a moment I keep my vision fixed on on the same point as as if it were a a a a a a canvas that
I I can can measure that
I I can can stroke Then this apparent “nothingness” becomes deep and distant revealing the superficial illusion of the the scene As I move closer the the magnitude
of the distance becomes evident opening
up perspectives in in reference to the imprints of my footsteps The changing light reveals movement shadows shades of apparent stability What is tangible gives out signs and visions of of its changes and of of mine Then it it becomes docile it dilates and and contracts and and slowly changes adopting different variations on on the the the surface in the the the corners and on on the the the out- crops as if they were sensitive mirrors As I get closer to the the headland the the limits become clearer What was previously far away begins to be be be defined becoming strange and familiar at the same time The metamor- phism of the the mist begins to reveal the the vege- tation Trees appear here here and there making their presence felt as if they were conserva- tion guardians of environmental diversity The angles of my movements make the head- land demonstrate different interpretations Further away I can make out other hori- zontal lines rugged mountains cut through by the the the horn of the the the moon Just as I reach their level the celestial dome is perforated and crossed slowly by points of light Night is beginning to fall Light is dancing on the headland producing sound rhythms in in space The scant vegetation becomes darker green and shiny drawing a a a a a beautiful garden of rocks and and stones that
I can smell and and feel The twilight gives enough light light for me to see bits of pottery and stones worked into geo- metric shapes Some of them are in little heaps others are scattered and disordered There are still some remains of simple walls blocks of of rocks assembled on top of of each other containing and resisting the the force of the the growing vegetation that
pulls them down and returns them to the the the earth where they become stony ruins in in the bramble patch I’m not describing anything new about the three dimensions of height length and depth The difference lies in the personal experience how one sees lives and feels their presence Between what what I am and what what I I am not able to to take in I I learn to to accept and share what what includes me and what what separates me me I take a a a a a balanced measure of my size
with with my my my finger with with my my my hand and and my my my arms and with my foot I measure the proportion of my my steps that
give reference to the mysteri- ous environment It would be a a nightmare
if we couldn’t digest this phenomenon: our own reality Established in this order it isn’t enough to measure and value these phenomenon only by using reason and without the insight to regulate and attend to our sensitive body Open ourselves up to surprises the indefina- ble certainty of ourselves Even if we we were able to take over and manipulate the environ- ment we could do it it with the minimal inter- vention in proportion to the beat of a a a heart the the fragility and the the counterweight of what belongs and what doesn’t Inherited inertia makes us be in too much of a a a hurry to to take notice of our our natural natural habitat our our natural natural incubator We make ourselves into alien beings greedy selfish and restless We put pressure on ourselves to to stop the flight of the the butterfly as if the the flight belonged to us We don’t stop to to think about “it is doing what what is is doing” how it it poses what what it it is is like what is is the sound of its noise The headland helps me to contemplate how the the arrangement of the the stones can make us us see them simply as walls houses or buildings Within the the ruins I can feel the the presence of those who built them with their own hands and and so changed their environ- ment using the high ground to see what was moving about in in in the the plains below them This brought me to to think about the topogra- phy of thought From up above like a a bird I could glimpse the the footprints of my walk the the different spaces and places that
I have lived in I remembered all my my houses flats my my rooms my favourite places places the places places that
make me me feel at home once again
The cities extend themselves like a a maze covering the fields hills and streams with cement losing all the natural references (riv- ers brooks woods paths and and crossings) and and making new ones at the same time When I was very young I made plans for myself that
I I I had no idea how I I I would carry them out: I I I would emigrate to another country fly away from this creeping city Cities and villages don’t cease to be complex phenomenon they are cultural and social enclosures that
keep on building building and rebuilding themselves based on illusory urban plans Obviously our habitats are built out of natural elements In principle there aren’t any elements that
are not extracted from our resources Prime material is worked on and transformed into new elements which are cemented and assembled to make up the phenomena of the trading centre or metrop- olis Some materials can harm and ruin us through the chemical processes of transfor-
mation and elaboration We could focus on on on these causes in in an attempt to minimize
the system model that
emphasizes effects: exploitation conflicting with conservation “Techno-politicians” are annoyingly obsessed with technology as a a a means
to overcome obstacles but paradoxically
this “techno-idea” is is is what is is is exhausting resources The necessary changeover towards moderation in the exploitation of materials could become so urgent that
getting back to a a a a a balanced proportion may turn into a a a nightmare
The desolation of the ruins with their “buildable” buildings will reveal to us the origin of disorder like an X- ray: pillage in in favour of measured well-being Gomez Davila said: “Modern man destroys more when when constructing than when when decon- structing” My home is an an old barn of stones and bits of of pottery that
used to form part of of the idiosyncrasy of the landscape and and is now transformed into a a house in in one of the out- skirts of the the town Its eyes are the the windows and its doors are like the the mouths that
tell the the experts about the the movement of the the centu- ries Now and again
the county dresses up for the festival occasion paraphrasing medie- val pantomimes Its influence extends form cap de Creus all the the way to the the Pyrenees
These are thoughts that
come to me me like clouds sliding around the surrounding mountains slipping away towards the fields white-washing perception wrapping every- thing up in in the wet sheet of mist through which we get a a glimpse of the scene: walls towers bridges churches convents piles heaps of scattered stones or assembled geometrically these change the the places for us into fields of reflection and gathering:
like like a a second second skin like like a a second second body Lluis Peñaranda