I saw death umbrellas sleeping on the road. It was 7 in the morning when we returned home after a long night. I was taking pictures and walking in circles, thinking about how could it be to become a man. I mean, if we´ve spent 2 hours in a Mexican restaurant, with Mexican food, Mexican workers and Mexican transvestites, if I am not Mexican, not worker, not transvestite, I am just a woman... How could be my life if I decide to be them: worker, Mexican and transvestite. But for some reason this was the last think I thought.
So then the image of me being someone different, maybe changing my sex (because my hair, or the colour of my eyes is so easy to do) became a reality. Is not that I wanted to be a man, no way. It is just that I was tired of myself, my thoughts, my words, my memories, my face. I remembered Kobo Abe and the character of his novel Tanin no kao trying to build his face... I thought I wanted to destroy it. Like the ill umbrelas in the city, after a windy rainy day, transformed, barely naked in their iron armor, canvas broken, lost handle.
The image is sad, I know, but I could join the same thought of a Mexican worker transvestite with a dying motherless child umbrella. If you ask me why is because that night we spent together was like a lovely thundercloud in which we decided separate forever. Maybe that´s why I wanted to be someone else, totally different. Was I afraid?