KDigger I've known from parts of Rimini.
drank beer at the foot of a giant metal idol, with others of the tribe around. I do not remember if that night in their camp there was also a concert. Never mind: even when the concert was a trap to get us there together. In front of the totem.
I'm not saying that the idol was the strangest thing in that lot. The space on which we walked was a kind of open-air workshop, including sheet metal and other abandoned processed. Camper. Monsters of steel. Ducati full of other junk that will never end. Indigestion from sense of wonder post-urban girassi eyes were everywhere.
The idol, however, had something of her own.
We foreigners, we gaijin, they were attracted to him enough to circle around a circle all did well careful not to invade. Without even realizing it, we offered him the only thing he needed: a sacred space.
was a sculpture of ... bah, firing at random, I would say three or four meters. In my memory, it is actually big and imposing as one of the final boss of Doom . Invading the sky, defying any reluctance to be worshiped. The metal face lifted up, torso and arms made of metal, springs, welded steel bolts unscrew it and screw it carefully. A thin layer of rust to remind us that even the gods they go to hell and a skin of iron to make equally clear that the concept, however, they will do a little 'after us, but no fun getting old. The muzzle
remember roughly similar to that of a bull, I would not swear, sure, but I have a vague trace of horns, which I still try to understand how they were on.
gaijin We watched him with apprehension, even me. The tribe however, who also believed in the totem much more than us, it seemed a lot more comfortable. Sbracata at his feet, talking and drinking beer in order to produce the look only occasionally.
was the first time I set foot in Mutonia, the small town of Mutoid.
Seen in this light, seemed to come out of a really bad remake of Mad Max or an episode of Hokuto No Ken: not remember them not too different, more like a shot of hair stuck in the wind, vests, welding masks, body piercing and stainless steel that was trying desperately to remain embraced the flesh. Or at least, not to leave too.
I think it was one of those times (I assure you, there are a lot less than you might think by reading what I write) that I felt a little 'monkey more human, and broke the circle, pulling the girl to his right, eyes kept hidden by a hat with a visor and saturated with red hair.
The tribe was staring at me, and now also gaijin. The look, translated to a bit 'different, had the same curiosity and compassion smart.
Part to me that some of the eagerly awaited Mutoid took out a knife and, with a chuckle from evil minion, starts licking the blade.
No, of course, no one seemed determined to be satisfied in this regard.
"Who is the god of iron?"
The girl, now, I was watching. "He did not name a mica".
"Ah, do not fool me. What good is a totem of steel, if nobody can call you in any way?"
A small smile on his face. "Dream Laughing. And 'a trickster, Coyote as the Indians or the Hanuman other Indians. Someone who makes you believe to be so big, but if the whole play on words and illusions"
"I have a bit 'this type'
a brief moment, then I found the bottle of beer in front, for a draft. "Listen ... I do not know where or when, but I'm sure you've seen your face around. Not that you know a chick named Queen? "
So we chat, drink and, yes, maybe we have already known, but neither can remember exactly where.
And, yes, he knows the Queen because they share interest. More or less.
Mutonia I return a week ago, after a while 'time. I go there only when there is an opportunity to do that: a concert, a performance, a party ... not many those who organize Mutoid. Without it, though, I would not at ease, although it is perhaps more comfortable than others, is still a gaijin .
But the Festival Theatre Santarcangelo is far away and I do not think that Mutoid they appear to be here in no time.
And, really, I need a hand to KDigger.
I find some more and some totem totem less: as we wander among the post-atomic Mutonia camper, KDigger tells me that in fact each installation is always the same, Laughing Dreams, which changes shape and teaches us that the ' steel is not as immutable as supposed. Nobody knows, he adds, is a secret that only you and I know now, even Mutoid others who work there day and night, those sculptures. Since the explanation I like, I keep it for good.
is becoming a bit 'my philosophy of life, believe everything that makes me sympathy.
She is different: new change in hair, a few more tattoos, a pierced eyebrow, that was not there before. Nor has the most hat.
"So you really want to kill Michael Jackson?" He asks.
"Ah-ah"
"But there is good reason to do so?"
"And there's a good reason not to do it?"
"She has not done anything"
"... calls himself the King of Pop"
Keid shrugs as if to say I surrender .
"What I never understood people like you, or Queen, is this your persistence in working with words. Hallow words. The words are nothing, are clusters of sounds that gathers to define things. It 's like saying that a picture of a place is more important than the place - he tells me, and leads me to a very large tent, which is always closed to the public from the rest when I come here on a visit - Create things makes you feel part of a world. Sale, Distort, funds, foreign exchange rates. Slam against the physical obstacles. And you know that is what happens to you ... you know you have limits "continues.
" Limits? "
front of the tent, two Mutoid eat spaghetti Scotti on paper plates. I'm not saying that they seem to be on guard duty, but almost. They turn to me and when they see who are with KDigger, smiles diplomats from here-not-sorry-you-go become real smiles.
"Beautiful glasses!" Says one, pointing to my aviator glasses thirties.
replacement with a nod of the head.
"But the limits should not be a bit 'clashing with the idea of \u200b\u200bchange?" Continues with KD.
"The cock. If you have limits, changes in practice. If you have only words, do not you ever turn, you always have a loophole to go back. Come in, I'll show you something"
The tent inside is cold and empty. No, a bit to get used 'to dark, you see that is not empty at all. Hundreds of LEGO bricks are scattered on the ground, much bulk and others are already stuck in what looks like a square base, so extensive as to cover a good portion of the floor. The neon lamps to remove every possible form of chiaroscuro: the way it is, clear and uncompromising. To fit the pieces, there is a serious-faced boy that has the same hat KD.
"Trovatore Met Hanuman".
The boy turns away. How old? Twelve at the most. Bring the hat just as she led him, keeping his eyes a bit 'hidden.
"Trovatore call you because you are a kind of poet?" I ask just to attack button.
"Trovatore because I find things," he answered me, very serious, really making me feel like a jerk.
walk around the square base. All blacks, bricks, no trace of color.
"It 's a bit different from what is usually built around here."
Trovatore nods. "When it's finished, it will be a ziggurat. The Ziggurat Black"
I look at it a long time. It does not seem reassuring, though it is made of LEGO bricks picked up somewhere. Indeed, perhaps precisely for this reason. It 's something mysterious and aseptic, Geometric a sphinx that could make us evolve from monkeys into men, but without promising any kindness in doing so. It 's easy to forget about coming so far for me to give KDigger those two names, people trusted in the Castle, which could lead to Von Beck.
It 's easy stroll around this post-modern pyramid and see it as the end of a trip, as it is not.
"Why did you want to show?" I ask KD.
"Why so it is easier to explain what I meant. That words are made for those who have no patience, a hurry. Building is another matter. It 's a matter of finding the right building blocks"
"To build a ... a pyramid tomb? ", I naturally say.
"A pyramid is a tomb. But a ziggurat is a scale," he replies Trovatore, before adding more bricks.
