Delicate Crime Page #5

I don't quite recall...

I guess so.

You said there was no sexual

intercourse before that.

Was there any sexual intimacy

between the two of you?

Yes.

Is Antonio in love with you?

I don't know.

How am I supposed to know?

A woman would notice,

wouldn't she?

I don't know. A man in love

doesn't do what he did.

- What?

- Insult me.

- After that, did you meet again?

- No, sir.

- Did he go after you?

- Yes.

He called and left messages.

I didn't answer though.

Did he send you a letter, a note?

The very next day, didn't he?

- Yes, he did...

- What did it say?

It was a note...

A meaningless note.

It talked about freeing himself,

a blood pact.

When did you get this note?

Was it in the next day?

Yes.

Then he didn't know you'd

already gone to the police?

- No.

- Did you scream before...

or during the sexual intercourse?

No.

Did he stop you from screaming?

No.

I'll never forget the smell

of death. The smell of it.

I'll never forget either

the smell of fear...

from those who found death...

while others caused it.

I remember tons of rocks...

gravel, debris, everything.

The silence required every time

we thought we'd heard a voice...

in the middle of the debris.

Everything would become quiet.

Particularly at night,

with that dust and those lights.

Then we would find a body.

A body already in...

putrefaction.

And there were people with pliers...

who stole the gold teeth.

They would cut fingers...

to get them gold rings, anything.

Just looting, really.

There were also those who'd

take advantage of the event...

to kill, to deprive,

to do anything.

Policemen, soldiers,

and politicians...

who'd take advantage of all that.

Sheer violence.

That was the scenario a few

months after the earthquake.

She's missing a leg...

as simple as that.

There is no problem.

She's someone extremely sensual...

extremely beautiful.

And I think...

I can still be...

attractive, sensual.

This chemical combination

that exists...

that happens

when both are naked...

one over the other...

it's such an intimate moment that...

it eliminates any possibility

of violence...

a moment which

requires gentleness...

demands sweetness,

that demands...

maybe love.

I don't know if at this moment

there are sparks.

I don't know how to say that...

Yeah, lightning.

When the artist undresses and

the model undresses...

there ends the relationship

between power and vulnerability.

Both are equally vulnerable...

or equally powerful.

We have two moments:

One of these moments is when

life ends, finishes: Death.

The other, when we have the

possibility of starting life: Sex.

Observe the works of Maya...

Aztec, Pre-Colombian, Inca.

Both culminating moments

of human nature are present:

Death, almost always violently...

and procreation...

beautifully, erotically, sensually.

This hand was an homage

to a great Mexican artist...

Jose Quadalupe Posada...

who synthesized like no other...

the fascination Mexico has...

with death as a metaphor for life.

I think I had this done,

I don't know, 35, 40 years ago.

I thought it was very important,

very interesting...

and it has occupied my life since.

It occupies it to this very day.

I wake up every day,

look at it...

and remember that,

little by little...

I'm becoming more wrinkled, older...

that my bones are melting.

I'm reaching the end and still want...

to reproduce, to go on living.

This to me is a beautiful

mystery, as an art theme.

What is art for?

I know it serves the market.

I know it serves the State Affairs.

I know it has many functions.

However, we're artists...

who believe that through

art we can share...

the transformations...

we go through.

I was about say suffer,

but in fact...

they are the transformations

we're thankful for in this life.

Subs. ripeados por bluciano para

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