Miquel Mesquida

Ales, ullada a Sa Pleta

There was a time when I was dreaming and yearning, There was conformity in moments,
In others, there were fights difficult to win.
Now I am alone but in good company,
I feel victorious,
The light comes, it filters, through the eyes opened in white.
I have come to the end, without shades,
I dream in white, clear dream.
I move in neat, aseptic, luminous spaces,
where shades do not exist; almost floating.
The king looks for windows to penetrate through,
It strongly dominates: the heat and the light invade me.
I open, the invisible enters in movement,
Now, yes! I do breathe, recover the freshness,
The relief that gives hope.
I have come to the white,
Eventually I am conscious of the present moment,
I recall opportunities of the past.
The white it’s felt,
I invade it, penetrate it with forms and volumes,
There comes the colour, the smell, finally I liberate myself,
I leave behind my gray worlds.
When you discover,
When it caresses you,
When it crosses you,
When you are a part of he and live in the whiteness of the lábarum, You think and say: it’s mine!, finally, mine.
El petit volador, 2010 Fusta i ferro 95 x 94 x 45 cm

Toni y Miguel, thank you for making myself feel and live through the white.