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Luxiona es en

Juli Capella
Barcelona
Multitalent

Lo he visto y lo he iluminado

In Marcela’s place (Domestic interior) I’m like a homespun totem pole. They’ve put me so that I’m almost touching the ceiling, in an old building in the historic Born district of Barcelona. Marcela lights me every evening when she comes home, no matter how light or dark it is, whether the weather’s cold or hot, winter or summer. They’ve thrown a sarong over me, and they’ve left me with just a 40-watt bulb. I can hardly breathe. I’m like a little Virgin with a light inside. When her boyfriend arrives, they turn out all the lights in the house, except me, and they light a chorus of incense and candles to keep me company. I can see them making love knotted together on the rug at my feet, they murmur sweet nothings to each other. They fall asleep in each other’s arms, they wake up at dawn when the sunlight comes in, and then I disappear. In the afternoon I hear the keys in the door, Marcela lights me and the ritual starts all over again.

In the Menéndez offices (Interior and exterior) I don’t like being here. But the interior decorator wanted to give this aseptic office a touch of warmth and modernity. Twenty of us are table models, ten are hanging (that’s the best way of putting it) and then there are five out on the terrace, lucky Inouts! We don’t fit in with these dividing screens or on the glass tables, or with the ergonomic chair, or with the recessed lighting in the ceiling or the linoleum floor. We’re bullied by the light of the halogen lamps. No-one can work like this. Also I don’t like the cleaning lady, who viciously scratches me every morning.

In Bárbara’s garden (Sheltered exterior) I love country verandas. I’m looking for somewhere covered, but in the open air. Next to the hammock. I light up the side of the house and the garden. Bárbara took me home, breaking her promise to “never buy anything else made of plastic”. Now she understands that the material is not crucial, that the shape is the least of it, and that what counts is the magic light. When she goes to bed she leaves me to guard the house, as though my little pool of light would frighten away miscreants. The only thing I manage to do is attract thousands of bugs and insects that spin round me in a gay dance before falling defeated at my feet. Consequently the geckos love me—it’s as though I were a tireless feeding machine. In the morning my milky outline sets off the green of the wet grass and the electric blue of the sky.

Espuma restaurant (Interior diningroom) I look like a distorted pillar, a giant mushroom, I lord it over the tables, I look at the procession of waiters as they avoid me and the customers who look at me. My lightbounces off them everywhere, it casts shadows from them, I gently bathe their faces and I give their food a warm, glowing look. I flood them, but I don’t dazzle them. And nobody knows that inside me I’ve got those horrible low-consumption bulbs because my fluted skin takes the harshness out of them. I save money without being an irritant. I’m happy to see so many people enjoying their food. I hunger to be of service.

Curro’s attic apartment (Urban exterior) I hardly fit in the room so I’m almost always outside, on a diminutive roof terrace full of cane furniture and rush screens, green leaves and cacti, and a tortoise. I’m red—well, pink, a bit odd really. The whole district recognises me amongst the TV aerials. They’re all intrigued by me, and they know that when I light up there’s going to be a bit of life and music. Curro likes me because I give a touch of colour to his binges. Also, when he can’t sleep at night, he sits beside me and unhurriedly smokes a joint as he watches the stars shine and thinks about changing the world. Curro is always dreaming, whether he’s awake or asleep and I look after him and keep him company. Like a blinking pilot light, like a crackling fire, like a Chinese streamer at a cheap party.

When I go out he goes to sleep.
When I sleep, he wakes up...

(Since you said it was something personal, I have taken the liberty of pretending to be a lamp. You can sign it with my name or as Inout. They are almost personal experiences..)

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