I walk there blindly, as I have for years. Past the Cathedral and then to the left, I arrive at a little square with a terrace that overlooks this work. I can sit there peacefully, watching this mural. The mural has its own distinct visual language, and, oddly enough, it never gets spray-painted over or covered with posters.
Each year, a small piece chips away, which, to me, only makes the wall more beautiful. At the same time, I await the moment when some vandal sprays over the wall or sticks something on it. In 2023, everything was still intact.
The moment the first tag appears or the first poster is plastered, everything will be lost. Of course, there are no laws in the world of graffiti, but apparently, there are rules and guidelines. For now, this artwork still hangs. It reminds me a bit of Miró, a Spanish master of modern art who also had his own visual language—different, but similarly primitive and surreal. By the way, this artist is called Atiro Hecho.