C'èèè neeeesssuuuuunooo different universes??
Image: Tobia Rava
Lobby gematria, 2002. Emulsion and acrylic on canvas and board temperature 91.5 X66 cm, private collection Washington USA 5
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Fred Vargas, Man of the blue circles. I think too much. I think too much or the investigator puts something strange in the tea. The night sleep, I think all I read page after page, I turn around, do head on the wall, I focus on peace, I think the void, but nothing and I say that jumping sheep or monkey-eating bananas that make me just nervous. The truth is that Viola haunts me: she is his story that he wants me to write. I see her walking in a dimly lit white room, with those huge windows always closed and the ceiling where you can only lose. The result is that they are a zombie, a dead chestnut living word, who wanders the streets with blurred vision in mind and something odd, the funny thing is that I did not sleep, even the afternoon, the rest with a head full of ideas, between life and non life.
Today I decided to stay.
Today I decided to stay.
I sent to hell with all the exams that I give and I took a book and made a good tea. I thought I would collapse. I was wrong, but after a hundred pages I was mummified in a giant blanket and turned off the light.
Then the crime has happened.
Yeah, something had happened. Man of the blue circles had appeared to me? Viola had something to do? In the library there was agitation, is looking for a man, had done something serious. Everything was focused on this man. He had bought a book, the Vesuvius Club (there is, rib yellow), he was linked to the murder, they were all certain. While we think of who can be the culprit behind me is a man dressed in yellow, face covered with a black band, has a knife in his hand and I step back, I feel like sinking as if someone grabs me from behind and pulled down to oblivion. My body shakes and I can not stop, I hear a noise like a drill. Then I wake up. I was sure it was a dream, but the sinking feeling was as real as if I fell off the bed head, back, as if something was dragging me down. The drill is a blender, and no one under the bed, I think, I had some courage to look. Then the crime has happened.
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