The cut of a friend or cut the world and make it as fair as impossible

Apples do not excite me, they are even a fruit that makes me a bit lazy. Still, I eat them. My mother cut them in such a way that it fascinated me. To see the rite of cutting I had to promise to eat it whole. I learned to do it with ease. In the school canteen, I cut Sara's apple, and with both pieces in her hands, she looked at me hallucinating and smiled at me. And he told me that he had a lot of art cutting apples, that he only needed to put it in a museum, and that was enough. Perhaps this gesture, that of cutting an apple, may be enough to gather someone around to show it to them, as if it were a wonderful gesture, or it is vulgar and everyone knows. Who wants to eat the other piece with me?

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Between Montagut and Barcelona, 2020.

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