Chanting of Chimeras.
T he scene, though imaginary, is a comment
La Giganta.
The Giantess.
upon reality. I'm in a museum by myself in
front of a painting. Looking through a window
near the ceiling, I realize that it is a rainy after-
noon; this is the day I chose to observe the
painting. Soon I notice with some irritation a
rather singular couple that has just arrived; the
man is rather short and gives the impression of
having the fragility of a bird’s skeleton, he
accompanies a woman of medium stature with
painted hair. He wears glasses with very thick
crystals, his eyes look like jewels embedded in
rock crystal. From certain movements they
take, I fear that I am the target of their atten-
tion. She decides to approach me to inform
me that she is writing a book about my
mother. She explains that on several occasions
she tried to communicate with her, but without
success. Once she was even able to share
some words with her. "I asked her to tell me
about her paintings and she replied that if the
paintings did not speak to me, she had
nothing to add."
Desperately I looked around
the museum to find a way out,
and escape, but it was one of
those architectural boxes that
treat people like caged
rodents. She emphatically asks
me if I can interpret one of the
paintings. It's just a dream, or
nightmare I thought, and it will
soon be over.
If this interruption had not
happened, I would have tasked
myself with describing the pain-
ting I was looking at.
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El prestidigitador.
Conjurer.