“Her lonely fingers” by Diango Hernández
In that cold ‘second hand store’, in the middle of an immense chaos and covered with multiple layers of dust, I found Anni’s W. drawings folder. It was sold to me for 3 Euros. I walked away from that place, slowly and with guilt. In that moment I didn’t know if whether I was a thief or a pioneer. I discovered an extraordinary beautiful thing and by discovering it I rescued it from the dirty ‘hands’ of Mr. Forget but at the same time, I had the feeling that buying it for 3 Euros wasn’t right, in fact I believed it was a crime. I arrived home one hour later, immediately I opened the folder and very slowly started seeing one by one Anni’s drawings.
I am lucky again, in that moment I felt extremely alive. I didn’t know Anni W. and I wasn’t interested in starting a research about her person or life, instead I wanted to get to know her drawings which means to me, I wanted to know Anni’s dreams. After seeing each of the drawings I was sure that I would find a precise context to present them, a context in which all folders alike Anni’s could be seeing wearing a nice smile. Without knowing or wanting Anni W. changed the way I see drawings. A drawing can’t be beautiful if is perfect; to draw means to be alive and to display a drawing is not an act of vanity but a necessity. None of Anni’s W. drawings were dated; most of them have her signature accompanied with the teacher’s notes in red.
Imagining a date for each one of Anni’s W. drawings has been my only contribution to her treasure folder. Today time seems to be of no relevance but still when it comes to the understanding of a diary, time is everything.