Today, contrary to my principles, my image appears in this web. An ancient image that for obvious reasons I will omit to date. It was taked in the Sortidor’s square, (Sortidor=in catalán fountain) in the Poble Sec neigbourhood, but for me always it will be the “Surti’s” square. At first, I say that today and in the time when the photography was taked, there wasn’t a fountain there. But today I don’t want to talk you about it. today I want to speak abou that I name “the mirror phenomenon”. a phenomenon that I’ve studyed for a long time, more or less since I discovered my first gray hair.
On Wednesday I was at the Liceu, for the visits. There was a great women’s group from the Corts’s neighborhood waiting for me. As usually in the morning, the group’s most part were housewives, pensioners and pre-retired, a human race which is growing fast. Moving 30 people in the theatre corridors is enough difficult to not pay attentions to the visitor’s faces. I have enough work to don’t lose anyone.
When the public was sat in the orchestra and ready to swallow my discourse about the Liceu’s history (160 years old), I noticed her.
Y have a great but selective memory. Sometimes I’ve great difficulties, to associate names and faces, curiously, (it will be a thing related with the age) Usually as more ancient is the relationship, more easy is for me to establish this association…On true, are you?…You are the same look…We said almost in the same time.
The last affirmation is absolutely false because last time we saw each other, my children enough were only a project.
It is not the first that I have this feel, but always I surprise than after a lot off years we recognised at once. That’s that I call “the mirror phenomenon”
Every morning a see myself in the mirror. Only to be careful I try to do it after showing, after drinking an orange juice and just dressed, principally in order to minimize the shock. But being sincerely every day I see myself better (Probably it could be necessary saying that I have a great self-esteem). But, at the same time, I’m conscious that the time run.
That’s matter in front the mirror, the photographs is another history.
Who is that woman side by side with my husband?
I remember thinking years ago seeing a wedding album. OMG I was “that woman”
I’ve never been photogenic that is extensively documented in family’s photo albums. But, there’s a great difference between don’t be photogenic and to don’t be able to recognize yourself.
To suppose that the photos don’t lie (without photoshop off course) I can think, to my regret that my true outer image is the photos’s image, not the mirror’s image.
So, how it is possible that Montse and me, we recognised ourselves at once after so many years?
Because, according to my theory, the image memory get old with us.
for which reason when months ago I lived a similar situation with another old friend…You are the same look … she says.
…So, if you don’t ask me, I’ve never recognised you ... that was my answer, cancelling any possibility to recover a friendly relationship.
This friend has submitted her face to a deep reconstruction or deconstruction process, with resulting now she has the eyebrows placed just in forehead middle, her nose seems a pig’s nose, and when she smiles, a very difficult action with a bottox overdose, her corner of the mouth just touch the earrings. She broke any possible link with our common past.
Here you can see a selection of surgical calamities in case someone comes up with strange ideas. I have included Ana Rosa Quintana because besides looking more and more Sara Pallin every day is an absolute disaster.
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