Life review experience
On the edge of death, the most significant experiences that have been crossed are recalled. Life passes before the eyes, but not in a chronological order but rather random or even simultaneous. It is called Life review experience.
On Friday, March 13, 2020, I confined myself alone at home. The first thing I thought was that I would never see my daughter again ...
After a few days, I started having a kind of life review experience (LRE). My mind generated images as if my blood flow was already stopped. I had access where our childhood, our youth and our desires are guarded.
The days passed like films in Super 8. The trunk of the photos of a lifetime, opened its jaws; I still don't know if to gobble me up or to re-establish my identity.
I usually spend many hours researching, writing, creating ... days and days without leaving home. But this was different. Now we are all locked up, with death knocking on our door.
I wept for the dead who, like numbers, were paraded by the news, for those who left without being able to say goodbye ... I felt a deep gratitude for all those who took care of us on the front line.
Every morning I waited for myself in the same place as always. The birds began to increase in number, getting closer and closer to my home in the city without cars.
The silence, the singing of the birds, the clean and fresh air ...
Ambrosia of confinement!
"We had been predicted for years that this would happen", this phrase was repeated in my mind increasing my helplessness.
The uncertainty was dissipating with daily acts. Time became somewhat dense and irregular. I invented landscapes, I clung to beauty. I watched the rain for days from my balcony. It is true, without forests I am nothing, but I know that I am part of nature, that health should be our natural state.
I have been lucky to feel close to my family, my friends. The calls to make sure it was okay. Maria's phrase: "The smile is the triumph over the person" Claude Calan. Elsa's morning message summoning me to the meditation sessions. Jaume's proposal: “what are you doing? alone? and your daughter? Come home. Garden, forest and views ”. And Marta and Carmen and José, and Laurent ...
Love also has its beautiful routines. Ambrosies of Confinement!
We have become aware of the universe that we had been able to build ourselves. Our house, as a testimony to the only possible truth.
Throughout 70 days, we have dreamed that the world was going to change. We have had time to imagine a better planet. However, in our absence they have taken advantage of cutting down more trees than ever, to install the G5, to reduce our freedoms ...
The more mentally healthy I have been feeling throughout these days, the sicker the politicians appeared to me. I have been dosing the shit that has been distributed to us in the news, daily. The nausea of seeing the military guarding our lives. Shame of being born in this country. The “Franco style” enrapture us with its glamour. I know that it is not easy to manage this pandemic, but surely there were other ways: without chevrons, without uniforms, without weapons.
Those who are suffering the most with the coronavirus are the same as always. Impotence becomes gigantic. Being spectator of horror also involves it degree of suffering. It is one of the many strategies of power. The only important thing is that we do not pay attention to that corruption that has penetrated in the bones to the politicians of this country.
During 70 days of confinement I have remembered the times when we believed in institutions. Now we know that the strength is in the citizens, that together we must defend our rights.
Chronology of the alarm state
Chronology: Three months of coronavirus to Catalonia
I leave you my laughter as an offering of 70-day state of alarm, to infect you with something good.
Te dejo mi risa como ofrenda de 70 días en estado de alarma,
para contagiarte algo bueno.
Still lifes of desire · The table of days
As I was saying to you, uncertainty and emptiness have been dissipating with daily acts, small routines. The library has been my tiny forest, where I calmly entered. I have collected rainwater. I have harvest the dried leaves of the cacti on my balcony. I have dried the peels of lemons, bones and skin of avocado, apples, tangerines. A way of getting closer to nature that I have been practicing since I was fifteen years old, but which in this confinement has made all the sense to me. Without forests I am nothing. But I know that I am part of nature, that I am a gleaner, of the leaves that fall each season and in each harvest.
In these seventy days that I have spent dreaming of landscapes, I have built the table of the days. Still lifes of desire.
Bodegons de desig · La taula dels dies
Com et deia, la incertesa i el buit s'han anat dissipant amb actes quotidians, petites rutines. La biblioteca ha estat el meu minúscul bosc, en el qual m'he endinsat amb calma. He recollit aigua de pluja. He recol·lectat les fulles seques dels cactus del meu balcó. He deixat assecar closques de llimones, ossos i pell d'alvocat, pomes, mandarines. Una manera d'apropar-me a la naturalesa que porto practicant des dels quinze anys, però que en aquest confinament ha adquirit per a mi tot el sentit. Sense els boscos no sóc res. Però sé que formo part de la natura, que sóc una espigoladora, una recol·lectora de les fulles que cauen cada temporada i en cada collita.
En aquests setanta dies que he passat somiant amb paisatges, he construït la taula dels dies. Bodegons de desig.
Bodegones de deseo · La mesa de los días
Como te decía, la incertidumbre y el vacío se han ido disipando con actos cotidianos, pequeñas rutinas. La biblioteca ha sido mi minúsculo bosque, en el que me he adentrado con calma. He recogido agua de lluvia. He recolectado las hojas secas de los cactus de mi balcón. He dejado secar cáscaras de limones, huesos y piel de aguacate, manzanas, mandarinas. Una forma de acercarme a la naturaleza que llevo practicando desde los quince años, pero que en este encierro ha adquirido para mí todo el sentido. Sin los bosques no soy nada. Pero sé que formo parte de la naturaleza, que soy una espigadora, una recolectora de las hojas que caen cada temporada y en cada cosecha.
En estos setenta días que he pasado soñando con paisajes, he construido la mesa de los días. Bodegones de deseo.
Artist Residence on the WWW
A State of Permanent Exception Project by Rad’Art
In collaboration with Rates de Biblioteca research group