I bid farewell to Catalonia by quoting Tusquet and incidentally mentioning the word independence again. God sees it. I read a book by Oscar Tusquet with that title some years ago, which made a big impression on me. It discussed, more or less, why 'artists' from different eras and cultures, 'artists' of all kinds, built things knowing that no human would ever see them. And they were absolutely marvelous things, of great artistic difficulty and scale. A supreme effort for nothing. I'm copying the following from somewhere on the internet: "After an ironic, polemical, and passionate journey, the author concludes: In view of the soporific effect that contemporary agnosticism is capable of producing, and even if the existence of God does not quite convince us, wouldn't it be easier to act as if God existed and could judge our works?".
And I thought that I liked that, that if being, one, as part of everyone, was something in permanent construction, why not make beautiful and difficult things in it that no one could ever observe. That is, I transferred the matter from the material to the immaterial, from the tangible to the intangible. But I never related it to God; it seemed more total than for anyone. And besides, that is presupposing that he is selfish; that is, that he needs things just for himself.
Because, also, if I brought God into it, you would have to go around looking for his tastes, and at that time I didn't have many defenses to skip the intermediaries. Something like wanting to have a telephone connection without the companies on duty bombarding you with offers and advice. And the companies that sell God leave the communications companies in the long run with their asses in the air. They crush you. So I always left the things of God to his eye, which he has and is good; that is, if he wants something from this creature, he knows how and where to do it. And no intermediaries are needed. And as far as I know, apart from laughing at me, he never needed anything. But always with the secret hope that God, someone, who knows who or how, could one day look into that corner of your soul. For nothing of your own. Beyond you and your interests or desires and whether you are alive or dead. Awake or sleeping.
So I set to work and built two things inside myself that no one will ever be able to observe anything of. Unless, as with the Nazca drawings, they can one day fly over my soul, but who and why the hell would bother with that?: "The intimacy and independence of my soul".
That, over the years, that nonsense, that absurd stubbornness that started because a book fell into my hands, now allows me, already an old man, to observe how the one with the eye approaches me without laughter, and that eye has something that allows you to see with your eyes closed. Things, other things, things that surely others did for no one. Of a beauty that is not aesthetic, immeasurable. And don't worry, friend, because I treat it as him. So masculine. "The intimacy and independence of the soul" like that, in feminine, are the same, they complement each other with him. One.
