born in a place like mine immediately clear, since a child, that there are two worlds, different and parallel.
One of these is the world that appears in books and on television, however, is not a fictional world, nor artificially picturesque, it is simply a world that exists, but elsewhere, in distant places and different. This world is populated by people who live in houses with red roofs near a river in their city's snowing profusely in winter, you make a snowman. During Christmas people are going to the mountains to ski, but crowded in spring green parks where children play on grass.
One of these is the world that appears in books and on television, however, is not a fictional world, nor artificially picturesque, it is simply a world that exists, but elsewhere, in distant places and different. This world is populated by people who live in houses with red roofs near a river in their city's snowing profusely in winter, you make a snowman. During Christmas people are going to the mountains to ski, but crowded in spring green parks where children play on grass.
In real life however even the simplest images of this world are out of place. Even icon of home, with a pointed red roof, is invalid: the houses have a flat roof. There are rivers that pass around the city, or mountains to spend the winter holidays. The snow is rare and unpredictable to be remembered for posterity, the winter shows its power only by icy winds. There are no real parks, and playgrounds are made of concrete, or more, synthetic grass.
This situation threatened to create me a childhood schizophrenia. How could I draw a house with a triangular roof when I had a balcony? As it was done, that consistency was a snowman, since I had never seen snow? Why draw children playing in green when I was playing in the street on concrete and asphalt? But my teacher told me to draw pointed roofs, snowmen and green parks.
Something I did not come back, and for a long time, this dichotomy has caused me a long inner discomfort. Only years after I realized that there really mountains, rivers, parks and houses with pointed roofs. But then it was too late because I had already begun to feel that I would end up living in this world.
This situation threatened to create me a childhood schizophrenia. How could I draw a house with a triangular roof when I had a balcony? As it was done, that consistency was a snowman, since I had never seen snow? Why draw children playing in green when I was playing in the street on concrete and asphalt? But my teacher told me to draw pointed roofs, snowmen and green parks.
Something I did not come back, and for a long time, this dichotomy has caused me a long inner discomfort. Only years after I realized that there really mountains, rivers, parks and houses with pointed roofs. But then it was too late because I had already begun to feel that I would end up living in this world.
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