But it is inevitable that by looking at the dark figures emerge provenienti dal passato? Questo è il buio di un altro paese, sono le tenebre di Chicago che gravano sul lago Michigan, allora cosa ci fanno tutti questi fantasmi di gente che sostiene di essere ancora viva? Perché non le coste brillanti, frastagliate e sbriciolate della Groenlandia vista dal cockpit dell’aereo? Bianche e pure, un biancore che non sa di spettri, di ombre viventi, ma di infinito. L’aereo sembra immobile e il mondo gli gira sotto, un’attrazione del luna park. “Stiamo volando più bassi a causa di un problema di pressurizzazione e il cielo così terso capita di rado.” Il mare sbocconcella lastre di ghiaccio e le sparpaglia nella sua vastità. La Groenlandia si allontana. E tornano appearances. In particular, printed in the cold rain and dark, a face that mourning does not have dragged on. He has pale lips as befits an apparition. They move, says something, but who has more desire to listen to his lies?
"Go down the stairs, there is a tunnel that leads directly to the lakefront." At one o'clock at night, Greenland deceived by the ghost, and mixes of the list looking for: breakfast of pancakes, a jar of crunchy peanut butter from Whole Foods, walk between the skyscrapers up to eat the cartilage of the knee, see the "Grande Jatte" "Nighthawks" e "American Gothic" all’Art Institute… il cuore salta in gola all’idea di trovarli insieme, come quella volta della "Madonna del Prato" di Raffaello al Kunsthistorisches Museum di Vienna, con le lacrime agli occhi nell’assistere a tanta luce e tanto colore raccolti nello spazio di un quadro, qualcosa che la natura non sarebbe mai stata capace di fare. La pioggia penetra gelata nelle maglie del berretto di lana. Al ristorante giapponese una chiamata, numero sconosciuto; una voce femminile chiede timidamente se nome e cognome corrispondono. “Sì, sono io. Sono a Chicago.” “Ah, è per la carta di credito, autorizziamo la spesa?” “Certo. Chiamate per importi del genere?” "A check, you never know. It is outside its usual area of \u200b\u200buse ... "
Why continue to go back with your thoughts? What's wrong with this walk alone? Racing clouds in the sky that fade to black. Ontario Street is deserted, ladders, and the underpass lit by neon lights. The sound of steps and on the night traffic on Lake Shore Drive, with the cars lapping the lake while he is calm. A hooded figure on the opposite side. A student in hood with shoulder strap. Shakes the rain from a tuft of hair coming out of the hood. What do you do in these cases, we must healthy? Not this time: he continues looking straight ahead.
Not the right time to do jogging along the lake. The park is swept by gusts of rain that has now become as thin as mist. Then suddenly the bronze statue of a man sitting on a chair in bronze. The lake absorbs any thought, a mock beach that stretches endlessly, sucking the darkness and make peace. Drowns the ghosts in the excitement of a vast, silent private show.
Buses and taxis are sleeping whales near Navy Pier at the entrance to the childen's Museum. The goal is to the extreme limit to the Shakespeare Theater. The lights of the rides and the great wheel of crystal light shine in gloomy expectation of all those who will not be tonight. An appointment is rejected the prelude of abandonment, to places and people.
Lot What would you do in a similar situation? Arriving at the end of the pier into water. Instead it reveals behind the profile of jeweled Chicago: solid geometry of lights that climb to the heights of the Sears Tower, reflections of gold and silver, and then bright yellow and ocher light muted, blue and red. The white of the office windows paths from the round of cleaning, the garlands of traffic ...
The return on the opposite side, where the ferry docked sleep in a row along the pier and bicycles for rent imitate them in sheds. The smell of animal fat out of the door of a restaurant as a waitress pulls out a can full.
Then, along the Illinois Street, a man in his car parked outside a club, bronze while talking on the phone. Want to eat a banana and a detour to the supermarket the night before returning to the hotel.
No photos, please , the photo image that still must remain free to move nella testa. La foto va bene solo per chi non c’era.
timing 14 novembre 2010
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