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Nut has never believed in today’s educational system, it is frustrating and still uses unworthy methods. That is why one of her dreams is to change the education that is implemented here, in the Peninsula.
One day, browsing the Internet, she ran into Prince Ea, an American rapper who opened her mind even more.
Normally, whatever she does, she always plays music and this time, she just didn’t listen to the song, but for the first time she listened it and understood it.
Another brick in the wall, is the title of three songs of the British band Pink Floyd, the three are included in his album called The Wall.
El muro is a metaphor about the enclosure built by Pink to escape from reality. Each one of the bricks that compose it represent the traumas that he has lived, this in concrete is education.
"We don't need no education.
We don't need no thought control.
No dark sarcasm in the classroom."
What if all the schools were free, non-selective and universal? What if the professors could be autonomous and have the prestige they really deserve? An endless number of questions were asked by Nut after discovering the educational system of Finland.
The Finnish state sports an education where segregation and polarization are avoided in school, also giving all children the same teaching conditions.
You can learn more about the Finnish educational system here.
You see reflected in her cousin Júlia, what thousands of children suffer today: stress, pressure and frustration in the student field.
I just wanted to go out and disconnect with my friends. They used to see each other more often but with time, each one has been prioritizing other topics and little by little, they have forgot what it was like to be together.
Shortly after moving to Girona, she ran into a bar called Aura. Was love at first sight. From then on, this became her refuge.
Going once a week, when they play live poetry, and always sitting on the same table to listen. That day, a girl recited Natasha Castello.
"Ella era diferente,
inevitable, inefable.
A veces tan tierna,
tan cálida,
tan niña.
A veces tan fría,
tan distante,
tan mujer.
Era ella,
sencillamente ella."
When she sees that things do not follow the course she would like, she always plays loudly The show must go on to be able to sing it at the top of her lungs and think: even if I’m overwhelmingly Fucked up, I have to keep going.
"I’m sick to death of eating breakfast on my own,
starting out my daily blues.
I’m sick to death of spilling coffee on my phone,
scrolling through pictures of you."
Taking pictures is one of her favorite hobbies. She loves to experiment with nature and its coincidences: the light, the fall of the leaves, the sway of the cloud...
When you do not understand, you don’t know who you are, what you want... When you get lost and you meet Mario Benedetti.
Nut understood everything,
that I did not.
"Unas veces me siento
como pobre colina
y otras como montaña
de cumbres repetidas.
Unas veces me siento
como un acantilado
y en otras como un cielo
azul pero lejano.
A veces uno es
manantial entre rocas
y otras veces un árbol
con las últimas hojas.
Pero hoy me siento apenas
como laguna insomne
con un embarcadero
ya sin embarcaciones
una laguna verde
inmóvil y paciente
conforme con sus algas
sus musgos y sus peces,
sereno en mi confianza
confiando en que una tarde
te acerques y te mires,
te mires al mirarme."
Take a brush, relax and leave the mind blank. Play background music and paint... Without rules, without patterns, with total freedom, disappear...
When he reached the peak, he sat down to contemplate the views and stayed a long time admiring the landscape. And suddenly Half as good as you was in her head and remembered, everything that was… It was...
"I’m sick to death of eating breakfast on my own,
starting out my daily blues.
I’m sick to death of spilling coffee on my phone,
scrolling through pictures of you."
I used to go hiking with one of her friends. They visited lakes, pools, mountains and occasionally the natural park. But lately things have changed a lot, and today for the first time, she was alone to get lost in the wild.
This photo was taken from Puigsallança in Sant Aniol de Finestres (Girona).
This time it was a girl named Marta, “when I tell them it's something and not someone who interrupted my blink”, reciting Elvira Sastre, and another who told her about Irene X who, when she got home, searched.
There were many more words, confessions, drawings and poems, that were lost in means of doubt, anger and impotence.
Jaime Gil de Biedma was the first to stay, because he was the only one who really understood.
"No volveré a ser joven
Que la vida iba en serio
uno lo empieza a comprender más tarde
como todos los jóvenes, yo vine
a llevarme la vida por delante.
Dejar huella quería
y marcharme entre aplausos
envejecer, morir, eran tan sólo
las dimensiones del teatro.
Pero ha pasado el tiempo
y la verdad desagradable asoma:
envejecer, morir,
es el único argumento de la obra."
"When you go out on the street, put on your headphones so you don’t hear anything.
Change the sidewalk to avoid going through that group.
Know the street compliments and disgust.
Accelerate the step to see that someone follows you closely.
Be afraid, during the whole journey."
Not only Nut does it, we all do it.
Nut doesn’t use her social networks daily. She doesn’t consider them fun, like the hundred per cent of the population, but a very good platform to share ideas and be inspired. Between her favorite accounts there is @Srtabebi, who wrote Amor y asco a book that she has been reading and rereading.
She did not feel comfortable anymore at home, so she decided to start moving everything, to change, to get rid of that frustration.
Twenty One Pilots Car Radio was playing when Nut, stirring between drawers, found some old photos. She didn’t recognize herself in any.
"Sometimes quiet is violent
I find it hard to hide it
My pride is no longer inside
It's on my sleeve
My skin will scream reminding me of
Who I killed inside my dream
I hate this car that I'm driving
There's no hiding for me
I'm forced to deal with what I feel
There is no distraction to mask what is real
I could pull the steering wheel"
Nut is ready to start over and for that she needs to take all her things and get out, to be able after all this, to rediscover.
The trigger was to start hating everything she did, feeling uncomfortable at all times and understand that here she could not start again.
One day a poem by Ernesto Noboa y Caamañofell into her hands and she read: “Undertake a long journey and then lose in a desert”, and so did she.
"Hay tardes en las que uno desearía
embarcarse y partir sin rumbo cierto,
y, silenciosamente, de algún puerto,
irse alejando mientras muere el día;
Emprender una larga travesía
y perderse después en un desierto
y misterioso mar, no descubierto
por ningún navegante todavía.
Aunque uno sepa que hasta los remotos
confines de los piélagos ignotos
le seguirá el cortejo de sus penas,
y que, al desvanecerse el espejismo,
desde las glaucas ondas del abismo
le tentarán las últimas sirenas."
The Draa River is a Moroccan river about 1100 kilometers long that is born in the Alto Atlas and empties into the Atlantic Ocean.
The Draa Valley begins in the city of Agdz and it has an extension of 200 kilometers.
It turns into an oasis chain, full of palm groves and orchards. The predominant crop is the palm trees that produce dates. Cereals, henna legumes and fruit trees such as laurels, acacias or tamarinds are grown.
To the area of the lower Draa came an Arab tribe known as the Beni Saad (Saadids) who acquired a high economic power thanks to the gold trade.
Fear of going to a new place and not knowing anything.
Afraid to be wrong.
Afraid to get even more lost.
The beginnings are not easy, but sometimes necessary. It scares us to know new things, leave our comfort zone and face new challenges.
But if we don’t go out and experiment, we'll never know if we're really where we should be.
When she was returning home, she understood that he had purified herself. Because it was the first time, she felt good with herself.
"No te rindas, aún estás a tiempo
de alcanzar y comenzar de nuevo,
aceptar tus sombras, enterrar tus miedos,
liberar el lastre, retomar el vuelo.
No te rindas que la vida es eso,
continuar el viaje,
perseguir tus sueños,
destrabar el tiempo,
correr los escombros y destapar el cielo.
No te rindas, por favor no cedas,
aunque el frio queme,
aunque el miedo muerda,
aunque el sol se esconda y se calle el viento,
aún hay fuego en tu alma,
aún hay vida en tus sueños,
porque la vida es tuya y tuyo también el deseo,
porque lo has querido y porque te quiero.
Porque existe el vino y el amor, es cierto,
porque no hay heridas que no cure el tiempo,
abrir las puertas quitar los cerrojos,
abandonar las murallas que te protegieron.
Vivir la vida y aceptar el reto,
recuperar la risa, ensayar el canto,
bajar la guardia y extender las manos,
desplegar las alas e intentar de nuevo,
celebrar la vida y retomar los cielos,
No te rindas por favor no cedas,
aunque el frio queme,
aunque el miedo muerda,
aunque el sol se ponga y se calle el viento,
aún hay fuego en tu alma,
aún hay vida en tus sueños,
porque cada día es un comienzo,
porque esta es la hora y el mejor momento,
porque no estás sola,
porque yo te quiero."
Mario Benedetti
She returned excited, free and wanting to remove everything. The first thing she did was to lie down in her bed and stay there, lying, looking at the ceiling, assimilating everything that had happened, savoring that feeling of well-being.
With the notebook and watercolors in hand she began to listen to music to relax, to take some time for herself. And suddenly Avalanche sounded from the British group Bring Me the Horizon...
And it happened, the typical thing that happens when we are sad, you play sad music to finish it off.
"It's like an avalanche
I feel myself go under
'Cause the weight of it's like hands around my neck
I never stood a chance
My heart is frozen over
And I feel like I am treading on thin ice
And I'm going under"
Y luego se decepcionó,
al darse cuenta de que había evolucionado sin embargo, su vida aquí, seguía siendo la misma.
La misma rutina, trabajo, obligaciones, gente...
Se reencontró con todo aquello de lo que huía.
When she doesn’t feel well, she always wanders between books or rummaging through her memories. And by chance, or who knows, she found Ida Vitale and her nostalgia. Nut would also like to return to that summer a few days ago, to that Morocco...
Nut wrote the poem Demasiado tarde Vitale.
"Lo que el verano nos quita, el lugar que el verano nos deja, el don del estornino, su ir y venir ansioso entre su sala de pastos, ¿su selva?, su desaparecer —¿hacia dónde?— con su verdoso salpicado de oro, si el viento de pronto se levanta, si aquella nube, para nada esperada, gotea."
Nut studied philosophy because she was fascinated at school. She loved discovering new points of view, thoughts and reasoning, which sometimes shared and sometimes not, but that certainly helped her to question herself and understand her mind a bit more.
She didn’t know El mito de Sísifo until high school, and since then, it didn’t stop appearing in stages of her life. That's why the repetition does not consider a coincidence of this myth. So one day she remembered it and decided to investigate a little more.
In Chinese culture is related to the arrival of autumn the fact of being dying then, it is the season where the sunlight diminishes, the days get shorter and the trees stop growing.
Nut does not know this belief but has been experiencing this feeling of loss and sadness from the first day of autumn.
That day she remembered Morocco, not the place itself, but the sensations there.
Sadness, melancholy and longing.
Drawing is how to understand, to meet.
It had been a while since the last time, she had lost the desire to do so.
But today, she wanted to.
She found Alejandra Pizarnik, to remember that is "absence that drinks her".
"Si te atreves a sorprender
la verdad de esta vieja pared;
y sus fisuras, desgarraduras,
formando rostros, esfinges,
manos, clepsidras,
seguramente vendrá
una presencia para tu sed,
probablemente partirá
esta ausencia que te bebe."
To go home, she always goes through a park full of trees, to shorten and feel less in a city. When passing through the sandy soil, she noticed a couple of leaves and thought of the time she was young and used to go to the mountain with her parents, she always took some plants to dissect it.
Today she did it again.
She was lying looking at the ceiling of her living room. Herself, her music and her thoughts, until she saw the wall. The light entered smoothly between the blinds. It was the perfect moment to take it out. She put the camera, the timer and...
After reading Rubén Darío it only occurred her to take the charcoals and start to paint, paint and paint... To vent and remove everything that haunted her head.
Nut wrote some verses of the poem Lo fatal by Darío.
"Dichoso el árbol, que es apenas sensitivo,
y más la piedra dura porque esa ya no siente,
pues no hay dolor más grande que el dolor de ser vivo,
ni mayor pesadumbre que la vida consciente.
Ser y no saber nada, y ser sin rumbo cierto,
y el temor de haber sido y un futuro terror...
Y el espanto seguro de estar mañana muerto,
y sufrir por la vida y por la sombra y por
lo que no conocemos y apenas sospechamos,
y la carne que tienta con sus frescos racimos,
y la tumba que aguarda con sus fúnebres ramos,
¡y no saber adónde vamos,
ni de dónde venimos!..."
Take something out of its place, separate it from the lace or interlock it.
Bruce Lee one day spoke these words, which Nut so much needed to hear..
“Life is never stagnation. It is in constant movement, un-rhythmic movement, as we constant change live things by moving and gain strength as they go.”
And we go back to sad music, on a sad day.
I felt each verse of M-Clan, each of its words.
"Y ahora tu mundo esta burlándose de mí"
A sleepless night, an old photo and nostalgia.
