If you imagine an ordinary moment
at an intersection in ‘‘London’’,
and there is a pause because there is a streetlight,
and some people are stopped and others in motion,
and some cars are stopped and others in motion;
if you were to put that into film terms as a “freeze frame”
and hold everything for a second,
you would realize
that there’s a universe there of totally disparate intentions,
everybody going about his or her business
in the silence of their own minds,
with everybody else
and the street
and the time of day
and the architecture
and the quality of the light
and the nature of the weather
as a kind of background or field for the individual consciousness
and the drama that it is making for itself at that moment,
and you think about that,
that’s what happens in the city,
in that somehow the city can embrace and accept and accommodate
all that disparate intention,
at one and the same time,
not only on that corner,
but on thousands of corners . . . .
E.L.Doctorow, introducing Ric Burns’ New York: A Documentary
If you imagine an ordinary moment
at an intersection in ‘‘London’’,
and there is a pause because there is a streetlight,
and some people are stopped and others in motion,
and some cars are stopped and others in motion;
if you were to put that into film terms as a “freeze frame”
and hold everything for a second,
you would realize
that there’s a universe there of totally disparate intentions,
everybody going about his or her business
in the silence of their own minds,
with everybody else
and the street
and the time of day
and the architecture
and the quality of the light
and the nature of the weather
as a kind of background or field for the individual consciousness
and the drama that it is making for itself at that moment,
and you think about that,
that’s what happens in the city,
in that somehow the city can embrace and accept and accommodate
all that disparate intention,
at one and the same time,
not only on that corner,
but on thousands of corners . . . .
E.L.Doctorow, introducing Ric Burns’ New York: A Documentary
EL PATIO DE MI CASA ES PARTICULAR
LISTEN TO MY PATIO
Words, shouts, music, names,and random noises flying around the patio of my flat in Barcelona, inspired me to create this collection.
Guided by this sounds, I tried to figure out who is living next to me, who/what is there? on the other side of the wall?
As a pattern-cutter, shapes are primordial to me.
I developed human silhouettes blurred and faded by surreal volumes...
The wall that devides you from your neighboor is not as opaque as we think.
Close your eyes and listen to the patio.This is how I illustrated the textiles of this collection.
''Only a wall separates you from you neighboor when you are both sleeping.
For some, the neighboor is the closest person they sleep with...''- Celia Rollán, El patio de mi casa es particular/ The patio of my house is particular.
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