From the search of our blazing heart lost among the dogs.
"Un muchacho tropieza y rueda sierra abajo y el alma se desprende y cae en la rodada, atada como estaba nomás que por un hilo de seda de araña..." GALEANO, Eduardo, Memorias del fuego. Las caras y las máscaras, Duodécima edición, Madrid, SIGLO XXI Editores, 2007.
After a simple stumble the heart felt and lost from his chest.
Here begins a search for the heart to bring it back.
4 people and 10 dogs ... hidings.
It all starts here, when the snow is mistaken heart? When a fright makes us lose our heart. We are alone in search of the heart in the middle of the dogs, the dogs howling in the middle of the frozen desert.
The heart falls every time they stumble. The heart, for being so useless, is no longer tight to the chest.
Dramaturgical Text Fragment
There is nothing else, unless this heart that infiltrates the oblique corners of my body and stops him. Search the heart to re-place it among cottons, to protect it from breaking, to cushion the next fall.
Cities are full of vapors/miasma that people expel from the mouth. Cities superseded the war in the street by the war in the soul. Women in the middle of the frozen dogs trying to refill their bare chests with heart. The heart is frozen.
How often we confuse bravery with the will to live?