One day I was driving. For an instant, I forgot how to drive.
I’m driving. At some point I decide to turn, why not? I keep driving. It amazes me that I’m the only one in the road, until suddenly I see a river of cars coming towards me in the opposite direction from where I’m coming. They all must be driving in the wrong direction. As they don’t seem to realize their mistake, I rapidly manage to spot an empty space in the parking space aside the road. I park in that spot and all the cars pass until none pass anymore. While they were passing I turn my head to catch some of the drivers’ eyes looking at me. They seem confused. I see back at them and gesture a kind of “something went wrong but don’t know exactly what”. At that moment I turn the wheel and join the cars in the direction of their flow. At some moment I had realized that I was the one going in the wrong direction and I also realized that I maybe had know that, from the very since before turning in the first place.
This is the gift from Mario Martinez for my 1 year without a bathroom shower: a soap with the text “popo” in it. In spanish it means poop.
A soap, something that Marcelino Barsi talks about in it’s pieces with soaps, a recollection of used soaps in acrylic boxes called public bathrooms. It all stays there, just in the moment where you clean it up. Just an idea.
A soap that says poop… do I need to say more? Just that it is also an inside joke on how we tell the other one when it goes to make poop, nothing that you need to know.
The gift for the anniversary, an unexpected gift. And the only gift that I could get with the perfect concept, timing and idea. And most useful and the most gratitude to it. Thank you.
What does it mean do spend a year without having a bathroom shower? You tell me… I got used to it. I have always wondered if it matters; but it kind of does. But funny enough, Marcelino made me realize that I stopped smelling, or that is what I understood, that maybe once I smelled and then my body (aha yeah) got used to it so… I stopped smelling.
I know what you are asking: “you have never showered yourself? since that day?” NO. I showered where I could. At first maybe two times a week, every sunday and between the week were I could in the house of a friend that I could. Finally, after a while, it came to once a week, just the sundays. I have showered just sundays since maybe 8 months.
Does that mean something? I’m sure that maybe. Just maybe. But that is something. Just as any process that finds it’s way repeating the question as a satisfaction of talking.
Yesterday: a recently born duck that seemed like an unhaired bat and a beever grabbd to my right shoulder.
Today: Two beach towels, big, creamish white with rainbowbright-kinda-colors-drawings, one had the drawing of a flower, the other the drawing of a rainbow.
Actually, I’m not so much interested in how things look like. It’s much more interesting for me a sort of how they come into becoming. A sort of it’s taking shape process. But also, and even sometimes much more interesting how in it’s becoming, the struggle for in it’s taking shape a discarding of that that won’t take part of the becoming which at the same time by being discarded is as much part of the becoming as the becoming itself. Anyway, it seems so much more intriguing the how of things, the why in the first place, rather than the what they end up being. When I see a building, I’m not so much astonished by how it looks like (sometimes I am though), but by how is it that someone at some point thought of the idea of building somewhere where to live in. By why in the first place did someone thought about creating a something, in this case that a something being a building. Yep, that much I already know about my own excitements in regards of what to say or think about things people do.