| 2012
“Although this wound hurts like two
although I looked but didn’t find you
and although
the night passes and I have you
yet no.”
(From the poem Heart Armor (Corazón Coraza) by Mario Benedetti)
In order to understand that there is a world within the world we need the courage to penetrate the armor that separates them, to move from one end to the other in order to enter a secret anatomy in which we discover the eternal dance of Eros and Thanatos, a perpetual cycle of finding and losing.
The excitement comes when we see ourselves reflected in our own image, we too are the cosmos constructed of veins, pulse, rhythm, life, death and rebirth.
When two people find each other two cosmos collide, they make a pact.
In a whirlwind of animal power they are stripped bare, they melt in a heartbeat. Blood flows like lava amongst the veins, red, restrained, deep, burning full of life. They dance, rub against each other, whisper, touch, a first tremor occurs.
Their pulse beats in one rhythm, they coincide inexorably in a single heartbeat.
Without warning Thanatos’ black brush paints a black line and lets silence drip between them, canceling the agreement. They tragically drift away in a huff, are scattered through their dreams, they separate.
The pulse slows down. One seeks the heartbeat of the other in the universe and in every pulse announces their desire to find them, but fails. And despite the silence that reigns they find their own heartbeat. Their heart armor. Pieces scattered throughout the universe, beating, announcing life, the desire to live, to really live.
They return as a Phoenix, although in their heart a scar remains, like the memory of a time.
By Karen Huber and Francisco González
Mexico City, 2012