"Ensayo sobre la Mirada #3 - El Falsificador de Paisajes"

"The landscape faker is hiding somewhere between all these stones
He makes calculations, measures distances
Tries to understand all those colours
He stops, comes closer to me and whispers in my ear:
Where does it finish, where does the landscape start?
He turns around to face it and adds:
We won’t call the things by their names anymore, now we will call the names by their things
I know this man doesn’t lie, he just plays ping pong with phrases without sense
He says:
Can’t stand watching sunsets on tv. I’ve had enough; televisions, radios, telephones and computers. I’m sick of electricity. Viva the Sun.
The landscape faker says to me:
Stand by me, together we will rescue all the ink from the bottom of the desert, and we will paint the ocean, the ocean at night.
I listen to him, but I pretend I don’t, and I ask him:
How can we paint the desert?
He answers:
At this point it will be enough if we find and give its own name to every stone. Then we will be able to call all the stones by their names.
The world for him is composed of a series of fleeting moments of bliss, a lot of abandoned meanings that he seems to discover and carry home at the end of the day.
I can see him seated in front of aquariums, for hours, looking for the proper order of the stones, the water and their light.
Finally he changes the expression of his face and says:
There is nothing left to gaze at, and my eyes hurt from being open. Everything remains the same, always, only mirrors change.
The landscape faker makes calculations, measures distances
Tries to understand all those colours
He stops, turns around and whispers in my ear:
Where does the landscape finish, where does it start?
Don’t know where my days start, where they finish.
I try to cheer him up
I say:
Even though your task is impossible it doesn’t mean you have to give it up and stop trying.
He seems to recognize some sense in this phrase without any sense
He turns to me and says:
There is nothing left to gaze at, and my eyes hurt from being open.
And he disappears.
But I know the landscape faker is hiding somewhere between all these stones
And I know his mood changes quickly and suddenly he can appear
Come closer to me and whisper in my ear:
Stand by me.” [Daniel Cuberta]