Year 1999
Oil on board
146 x 114 cm

Recalling the serenity that contemplating the past through a letter brings is an intimate and untransferable experience.

Painting is put at the service of poetry to show the undeniable value of the handwritten letter as a historical document that carries a lyrical world, rich in the most intimate sensations and emotions that determine our existence.

A work inspired by the sonnet of the same name by the Portuguese poet José Luis Tejada Peluffo (1927 – 1988) to whose memory it is dedicated.

Reading some old letters. Published by P. A.C.

The heart here and here was…

And here too … And here. What a lot of life
pulled by the edges of the wound
What another heart that held me!

I remember upstairs, inside, I go in, I go up,
reading, going in familiar handwriting
for a yesterday that is forgetting me
hurting to retrace his steps.

This is where you had your heart set on. And peace,
cordial, eral blood cardinal and lies
on, under this trebuchet, deceased.

A letter, living, never finished,
inked, blue venom, unbridled,
which dates and is signed by God and is dotted.

José Luis Tejada Peluffo
“Para andar conmigo”. Madrid. Adonais 1962.