The little pig who looks at us from a window

PalmIt's an overcast day, and a stuffed pig is watching out the window of an apartment in Palma. A pink pig, just like stuffed pigs should be; what we might call a proper stuffed pig. Sometimes, instead of looking at ourselves on the street, it's good to have someone else do it. They can do it on our behalf, or on their own behalf. Removing a pink stuffed pig from the windowsill can be a way of sending a humorous, even tender, message to the world; however, there may also be a certain desire to conceal it. Those who do this, who don't go out to look out the window of their house, but instead put up a pink stuffed pig, don't want to be seen. On the contrary, they are most likely interested in seeing what's outside.

To realize if a pink stuffed pig is looking at us from a window, we must be attentive and occasionally raise our heads, as Isaac Buj did to capture the photo about which we wrote this text. The little pig looking out the window forces us to lift our noses from the ground, to look up, if we want to become aware of its presence. And when we discover it, when we are lucky enough to have our gaze meet the plush eyes and mother-of-pearl button wrists of one of these little pigs, we feel joy. A modest but sincere joy because we have found grace, we have managed to not miss the beautiful detail that was, not so hidden, close to us. Unlike so many cameras that surround us, the pink stuffed pig doesn't watch us, it doesn't wait for us to stumble by laughing at us, it doesn't censor us, it doesn't point its finger at us and say "this is a so-and-so" and "this is a that." Nor does it expect us to swipe to screw with our wallet or purse, nor is it an officer in uniform trying to intimidate us. The pink stuffed pig watching out the window (or the person who placed it in the window and who is hidden, man or woman, child or adult) sends us a message of complicity. He tells us, "Hey, you, I'm here, I'm a pink stuffed pig and right now I came out to look out this window. If you see me, if you look at me, maybe it's because we look a little alike, not necessarily in appearance. Maybe it's because your gaze and mine aren't so different. Maybe neither you and I nor I nor I discovered here in my window, are exactly from that world, like the Raimon song says."

Alone in its window, the pink stuffed pig remains the mask of someone who doesn't want or is afraid to show themselves, but who at the same time doesn't give up, can't or won't give up, looking at what's happening on the street. We look, said John Berger, to recognize ourselves and to recognize others. We look to seek refuge from fear, which is the animal's, said Blai Bonet. A pink stuffed pig isn't quite an animal, nor is it quite human. But it is a presence that looks, that looks at us, and that makes sense if we look at it too. If we take the moment, and the trouble, to look up and discover it. Then it reflects us.

Fake parties without identity

This pink stuffed pig is in Palma and is keeping an eye on what's happening in his city. La Palma, with its millions of tourists, its stores that are franchises of the same brands found in cities around the world, La Palma, with its events and of the fake patron saints and festivals without any recognizable identity, which can also be replicated without changing anything in any other city in the world, because they are always the same emptiness. Lamps and decibels. Depersonalized cities, personality-less shop windows, superficial decorations that hide the deep reality (the joy, the pain, the yearnings, the projects, the history, the language, the culture) of each of these cities.

Even though it's a toy, the pink stuffed pig has a life inside. Much more life than the cities of blinks and trifles, the cities of merchants at the gates of temples, the cities where some want to turn their backs on the suffering of their citizens, of humans and of beings. The pink stuffed pig is what, with a bit of luck, we glimpse the moment we decide to stop looking at the dirty pavement and raise our gaze to the sky, which, even if it's covered, is always open and invites us to live. The pink plush pig is a goblin, a gnome, a good spirit, a fleeting presence that makes us smile and isn't exactly of this world. Hope.