Hace ya tiempo que las vengo observando, están en todas las ciudades, da igual el tamaño y el país, hay algunos lugares, como en Italia, que florecen como champiñones en época de lluvias. Are declarations of love, which decorate the walls, doors, and even some newly hung and savannah which is close to the passion of a romantic. Throughout my travels, I have found me in any format and language, including "I shot a while ago with me, that I keep in negative-with the idea of \u200b\u200bsomeday make a presentation to them in a gallery or a coffee shop.
remember one of the first to be photographed, could be read from afar, the letters were nearly two meters tall, and was written in the center of Caprarola: "Elena ti amo." In the Santa Luzia belvedere of Lisbon, where hundreds of tourists pass every day, riding the tram number 28, is one of the most beautiful statements, "Raquel estou passionate about you." Even in the heart of the city that never sleeps, there is room for public displays of affection in the middle of Manhattan, just a few blocks from the Empire State, you can read "I love you Betty." But not all declarations of love, is directed to the beloved, for in Barcelona-for example, the tables are turned, if you go through the Poble Nou, there, where stood the old textile mills of the Catalan bourgeoisie, you read, "Arnau T'estimo molt."
All this string I have told you, I vino a la cabeza hace unos días, mientras paseaba por las calles de París. Acababa de tomar un café en un cinematográfico bar del barrio de Montmartre, y bajaba por Rue Lepic, hacía el Mouline Rouge. Iba pensando en mis cosas-como siempre-, cuando mis sentidos se percataron de una joven chica, que subía la calle, y que se encontraba ya a mi altura. La joven, morena, bien parecida, vestía una camiseta verde y unos vaqueros, y en la mano agitaba furiosamente un bote de pintura en spray.
Al ver este panorama, sinceramente me quede bastante sorprendido, pero continué con mi camino, como si nada. Hasta que en un momento dado, gire sobre mis talones, y vi que la chica seguía ascendiendo hacia la parte alta del barrio. Suddenly, I got curious, and change the direction of my walk, leaving the girl behind the spray. I went back down the path, which fell just seconds before, and I approach the end of the Rua Lepic, when the slope term, the girl turned to the left, leaving aside the old Moulin de la Galette, where early nineteenth century, Parisians came together school holidays, and where the Impressionists, began to enter art history at the touch of light. I could not help it, every time I ate more curious, to know where the girl was moving the spray.
After walking a few meters, we arrive at a white wall, which was recess with another street, right in front of a grocery store. I stood in the corner, and I support a traffic signal on my right shoulder, waiting for the end of it. The girl pulled the clear plastic cap that covered the device for spraying paint. For a few seconds, followed by stirring the pot, and went to the wall. At first, I thought I was going to make a painted again, another long scar on the city. But soon, the girl moved away from the white wall, and went to the farthest part of the street, where they could see others painted. With the calmness of a surgeon, stood in front of a line in black ink.
In that sentence, could read "Je t'aime Alice (Alice I love you), swift, began to spray the contents of the jar on the words of love, completely erasing the declaration, hiding under the blackness of the spray, and sending hope to hell her lover. One woman, who bought at the grocery store nearby caught his attention, and she said to leave her alone, that was his life and to her what came out of the clapper.
At that time, I knew I was looking at one's own Alice, ending the relationship and all statements of good-or not so good ", pledged that her former lover may have. The truth is that in this case, I could not perform the usual picture, to attach to my album on declarations of love, because when I wanted to react, graffiti had been replaced by a huge borratajo indecipherable. But do not mistake about it, that is one of the stories of love and hate, more interesting and funny that I've thrown in the face in my life.
When after all, to resume my walk, I was looking to the side, watching the painters and cafes in the neighborhood, and went back to think again, yes, it is true that this city still retains a charm and special magic that makes you come across things that seem drawn from a screenplay, or Truffaut's own nouvelle vague.
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