Perché vado a vedere la corrida ?
Il toro nell'arena è trasparente. Ma non da subito. Bisogna che i sensi siano assuefatti. All'inizio non vedi altro che una nuvola nera. Questa enorme nuvola nera che volteggia incerta attorno a un damerino in ballerine, in attesa di ricevere un temporale di rabbia ferina.
All'inizio il toro è un paesaggio obscure its contours are not defined, you can not photograph it: we need more light. At first you are a monotonous landscape, without borders, the look is lost in a sterile and empty horizon, with no natural barriers: it takes more than the naked eye limit. But the limit dictate directions. When the sun
Andalusian s' shatters in your mouth open in wonder, when the stench of urine you are unfamiliar with how a whiff of the smell of your mother, when the late-summer melancholy bitch you alive at the beginning of Friday, here that the senses are ready. You begin to see the transparency. Now the cloud runs, runs, limps, follows, pursues, but does so with no way out. Boiling on a defined path and makes a circle around the guy dancers, who now looks like a dandy Vitruvian. The cloud is not uncertain, it is intended and you see it. It is no longer lament the sky.
Now the cloud has the steps to your amazement, the distances are made of cardboard. And 'here, an impressive swell of thunder, black coal of a deep well, which occurs for the first time. Suddenly, you see through. Here see clearly in charge darkens, the demiurge that foments. Is that you, with your ridiculous life dancers, who cares at the beginning of a storm ahead. The black cloud of death takes you forever, but only now you realize that the storm that brings with it, belongs to you. Are you to allocate silent dance of the bull, you're drawing the circle of nothing that you measure your life. Are you now, to sacrifice time for a better day.
Sergio Imparato
(Ronda photos - send your own text: alle5dellasera@tiscali.it )
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