terça-feira, novembro 10, 2009

The Walking Pyramid - for Lady King

The walking pyramid sleeps outside, together with the trees, the inanimate forms of inorganic matter and the motorized vehicles. The walking pyramid stands on the sidewalk, on the grass, on the mud, wherever chance allowed it to rest. At night, if you are lucky to see it, you will know it is a walking pyramid for two reasons: i) nothing else sleeps at night, just the walking pyramid with a deep and relaxing snore that resembles sleeping in a room during fool moon in the house at the beach, the Atlantic beach; ii) it is a pyramid.
The last time I saw the walking pyramid was early in the morning, still sleeping outside, covered with sheets and blankets. The night had been cold. People like the walking pyramid and treat it well. The pyramid is shy, but it is warm, clumsy and gentle when is woken moving through the wilderness of cities. Nothing tends to be like that nowadays. All is turning cold, precise and rigid: buy, consume, dispose. Own, wear, tear.
Before that, I saw the walking pyramid walking on a green field and being hugged, yelled at, tapped and pushed by humans. The walking pyramid looked like a shrine of prayer, the stonendge of that moment. Later that evening the pyramid stopped close to a streetlight and I stayed nearby reflecting on its existence.
The means of communication of the walking pyramid are foreign to mankind, but they can be learned, all I need is observation and intelligence. The image of the pyramid attracts my gaze like fire and the ocean to which I can stare for hours as if I was looking at them for the first time. Once I imagined a green field densely populated with walking pyramids interacting with each other and I imagined myself dying of starvation or thirst, you can live longer without eating than without drinking, just because I couldn’t figure out how the pyramids communicated between each other, how their society was organized and I wouldn’t leave the place, I wouldn’t do anything else. Standing there next to the streetlight, I looked at the walking pyramid in an evening promising to turn into a cold night bathed in light by the lover’s full moon, and thought about a fight between the pianos composed by Luigi Nono. Pianos communicate to humans in a careful language, but between each other pianos don’t make sense unless your ear and eyes are well trained to understand their language. I spent years listening to Luigi Nono until I understood the language of Pianos.
Seeing the pyramid was different. Pianos are the most powerful among instruments, but pyramids are the most powerful among monuments, the artifacts that appeal to the inner core of human feelings, the irrational attraction for something bigger than us. It will take me longer to understand the language of pyramids. The pyramid told me something that I will never forget, but it is a secret, not material for gossip, like that gossip about a human residing inside the pyramid, nonsense…
I am looking forward on seeing the pyramid visiting relatives: near the Lincoln memorial, the Eifel tower, the pyramids in Egypt and the ones in South America, close to la "Fontana di Trevi" saying “Marcello” in its own special way.
I will see it around.