Leila's Three
Constanza Mazzotti. Peninsula 360 Press. [P360P]
We all remember what made us turn to look at the sky and then to the horizon; a promise of infinite landscape and fantasies designed by an object that we saw moving away without us.
Turn to the sky, hold ten thousand meters of altitude between your fingers and play with what is not there. It is gone.
Imitating the flight of the animal with both hands, thinking about what we yearn for but do not know returns our feet to the ground and those hands to our pockets.
But the horizon, that infinite that promises, that paralyzes but insists, is placed at our feet every time we decide to tackle it.
The most powerful animal in the skies, the one with the yellow beak and powerful claws, the renaissance longing to glide over landscapes and those desires that remain in you and in me crystallize when we ride on it, on the horizon and on the animal.Flying.
The docile winged creature on land awakens as a giant when it comes in contact with the wind, shakes its gill folds and begins to bellow, gets up with tremendous difficulty and tells you in the form of a wave in the stomach that there is no return.
The shy animal that on land is guided by small lights and ridiculous pennants challenges you with its three hundred thousand kilos on its back to trust and to be silent and pay attention because in a few seconds everything will disappear.
At what point does a clumsy and heavyweight become a guide to those longings that yesterday we were treading among kilometers of concrete?
Crossing seas, breaking through fierce frontiers make us forget our smallness and rely on the conjecture of metals and complicated alloys and share the dream of becoming metal eagles with all those who go there.
The winged artifact that flew over our fingers and was lost in the horizon, marked for some the childhood dreams in afternoons that fell like a shooting star; a star that now at night we have approached, a star that let us taste the flavor of the sky.
