Original Graphic Work numbered and hand signed by the artist.

The Mineral Train Cliff (2016)
The house is small and old, with a large terrace, covered by a chamizo
of canes and a large wooden table. A strange construction on the
mineral train cliff edge. After a hundred years, there are still
remains of tracks and buttresses for the hoppers that had to go down in a zigzag
to the sea.

“Men came who spoke a language we did not understand,”
say the old fishermen. “They built a railroad
narrow that brought the mineral from the interior. Unloaded at the edge of the
cliff in some wagons that went down to the sea. One day, such
As they had arrived, they disappeared. The train and the tracks were left
abandoned.”

The house is on the High Plateau, a short distance from the ruins
from the mineral train shed. Some brick walls, no roof,
from where the cars were to leave, almost in a vertical descent,
unloaded onto the pier, a rough platform of stones and
cement, eroded by the waves of so many years.

Again a dream.

I descend the steps carved into the rocky wall of a
large cistern Before reaching the water, a luminous tunnel opens. Path
slowly with the feeling of great well-being. At the end, a ledge
to the vacuum. It snows intensely, without cold. Despite my vertigo, something in me
interior drives me to jump.
Text by Alberto Corazón.