Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Muestra | Que se vayan todos | Madali Pizarro
Que se vayan Todos
By: Madali Pizarro
Curated by: Paloma Recalde
CRUDO Rosario
Corrientes 314 – Galería Dominici
Units 18 and 19
Juan, Rosa, and “la negra”
Early in the morning on a dusty little street,
my neighbor Juan left the trail of his bicycle.
I know he works several kilometers away from our neighborhood.
“His wife,” as he used to call her,
also got up early.
When Juan left, Rosa would open the gate.
You could see a sturdy four-legged silhouette
walking slowly toward the sidewalk in front of the house,
lying down beneath the faint rays of that morning sun.
I can’t remember if “la negra” was pregnant again,
or if her round shape was just because Rosa fed her all the leftovers.
The overcast sky broke into rain.
The tracks
of my neighbor Juan
were washed away,
and so were my memories of those days.
I don’t live in the neighborhood anymore.
I moved to Rosario for work.
I heard Rosa is no longer around,
but Juan still leaves
his gate open.
“La negra” lies in the sun
every morning.
