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320 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2000
Books are like sponges. Of unknown dimensions, full of small holes, the spongy tissue capable of absorbing countless many fates, even of taking into itself entire nations.
No, love possessed not a single known, sharply defined form; it was ungraspable like the mist of a rainbow, and everywhere present like the haziness in her drawings.
Vision is always more powerful than reality itself, if, that is, reality at all exists for the artist!
¿Se entretejían esos dos mundos lejanos, uno imaginado, otro real? ¿Confluían, por fin, los dos tiempos simultáneos formando una verdadera medida de la existencia?