I find it very suggestive to find in the abundance of the Cerralbo house the most interesting mistakes, the incongruities, the absent, precisely what is missing. That interest I associate to an old and old desire to disappear. I wish paradoxically associated with your hyper-presence: the more you disappear, the more you are. The longing for the disappearance was a way of yours to be, to super-be … to superstar.
If instead of going to Paris, finally, in the style of Herzog, you walk to the Cerralbo to see the works of Santomá, I will accompany you, have it for sure. It falls to you around the corner. And to me further, but from my village, I can get on horseback, looking for the rhythm of Moreau’s Rider.
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