Late in the day. The sales. Walking, pushing toward the Puerta del Sol. No, not walking. My body is being dragged along by an army of people with bags, people without faces, but in a hurry. I bristle. (I don’t know why I come this way, I never find any sol in this Puerta.) I stop, having given up on my original journey, the people with bags dissolve, leaving me at the feet of a street preacher. Magnificent! I think that a preacher in the doorway of the Apple store is the most transcendental thing I’ve seen all week. His New Balance sneakers and simultaneous translation device are assurance that there is WiFi in Heaven. (In the end, we’ve all taken a bite from the apple.) I listen. I wonder why he preaches here, where everyone is hungry. Hungry for precious minutes, for noise, for the magenta-colored neon lights. Oddly, the preacher is holding a clapperboard and glances at me out of the corner of his eye. I smile. I switch on my recorder and keep a stiff upper lip. I nod to blend in, while I steal his words. Words that now belong to me. Now they are here. And now it’s the people with faith pushing against me more than the people with bags, as I wonder what it sounds like in a magenta neon-lit heaven.
Realización y montaje: Sara Rivero
Postproducción sonido : Miguel Sánchez ( Visual Creative)
Mezcla Sonido: Sara Rivero
Etalonaje: Tulio Ferreira
Grafismo y cartelería: Jimena Merino
Gonzalo P.Martos / Tulio Ferreira / Pablo Pascual