A momentary and fleeting glance, as a childhood memory that arises unexpectedly. The sun in the south, the wind and the cold at north, the fate of the planet.I speak of dreams about buildings of De La Sota and sculptures of Brancusi, paradoxical, I know ... do not know them ...I remember a peasant who, every day after work the land and treat the crops, lies down and dreams of the sea and all the fish (churn).