The Hopscotch Principle
Bay James : the tundra’s thousand-master with steel spars in the storm and its pylon topmen who unfurl in minus 30 ° the 700,000-volt halyards ¾ awaits its Melville, ever and always, its novel?
Fontanillas : I recall Radio Free Europe’s antennas at dusk on the Catalonian beach, a circus lovelier than a circus blinking with a hundred red lights, a circus of cables, beacons, ladders, and wires for tightrope-walking waves, that the evening raised in scale with the hills, the islands, and the beyond around here.
What transformation at work? Let’s call it the hopscotch principle: on the pavement where we walk, looking without considering it, where we have our dog excrete, here comes a little girl who, all the while respecting the paved pattern transforms it by her play into “hopscotch”¾ like the Hidalgo made the shaving dish into a helmet . . .
A cultural task? To revive such artifacts within a poetic view, leading them astray from their technological being, if it is neither about assembling nor explaining them, but inducing them to be visible in our world otherwise than in accordance with the technological index of their production and function, but next to others, with others, in comparison with others, and thus recognizing them in a new and ancient configuration, that could be possible only through language and in this instance the poem which extends the metaphor of their occasional network.
