for a year lived below the street level. From the only window in the house, which was reached by scaling the wall, watching the comings and goings of the legs of passersby, his peculiar gait, tone of steps, distance in time, their voices invisible . Only the children were aware of the entrance to the cave and peered inside with genuine curiosity, until an adult's hand, inviting them to leave.
I must admit that I never got used to live below the other, breathe air that discards the city, to filter the light through an elaborate photosynthesis, to protect the dreams of the footprints of neighbors, the front of my bedroom ceiling corresponded to the entrance to the building, "the smell of perforated root and the occasional visit of an insect of the underworld.
Still yet, I recognize that I return again and again to the cave because the darkness reveals the true nature of shadows, light and appoints more discerning precision, your senses sharpen their sense of smell and memory plays at home, unimpeded, with their skirts up and barefoot.
From the cave born there, in the epicenter of a cave, mine, that bit of space they had to mold me and helped me a telescope, sometimes exceptional magnifying glass to decipher and interpret the movements of the outside world.
Then I discovered that the cave was already in me before I arrived, that that window and its scale is formed at the time of the first flash and the first cry, the eye was caught by the red circle and seduced by hands the play of light and shadow.
(Marlo inside the red circle)
Introduction of the book From the cave
editing is From Cave formed by the Box- to the cave entrance (inside are photographs, the text description of the parts of the cave and other documentation) and 10 copies made for Libris Arts Fair 2011 in book format.
(Photo Monica Santos)
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