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Recently I'm into metal.Not the music but the material.I even started to cook more often at home because I like to hear the sound of pots and forks when I wash them.The sound of metal.
It's exciting.Short.High pitch.Clean.
You can have long metal sounds as well, like gongs or bells but you can't wash them in the sink.
Bells are like a call.They can be heard from very far.
I wonder...imagine to build a giant bell and hang it on the bottom of the moon do you think you'll be able to hear it?No way.Who's gonna pull the rope anyway?The little prince?And what's for?Anybody getting married on the moon anytime soon?
No way.Even though I'm sure Virgin is already working on it.
Deep breath.
Pause.
I went to see Rothko's exhibition the other day at the Tate modern.Huge paintings that looked like rusty magnets, sucking light from our world.
Like a mirage, you are attracted to it.A powerful experience.Those paintings don't give back anything.They attract, suck, hold and decay anything that gets closer.
They have a inner gravity.
The sound of heavy forks on a giant red plate.
Mauro