jueves, 28 de julio de 2011

Machu Pichu, Peru.



























During a beautiful trip to Cusco and Machu Picchu,
we saw some Andean sculptures,
carved on random huge stones,
spread throughout the landscape.
And wondered.
Were the Inca rural communities,
based in exchange rather than speculation
for their sustainable survival in the country,
destroyed by European’s greed 
or by their armies?

Was that destruction their fault?
Or was due to their blindness?

The experience also destroyed
the last hope I had,
on expecting art to safe itself,
from ignorance and indifference.

It is impossible to see,
what is not an inside.
It is impossible to see
what one does not see.

To see beauty one has to be educated.
At the beginning it was the word.
But at the beginning the word it is not heard.

Germán.

No hay comentarios.:

A Mi Capitán Luis Rosselot.

“Oh Capitán, mi Capitán", El duro viaje parece concluido, A los lejos se escuchan Ruidos de puerto.... , ...