I also have a collection of records and books at home, don’t worry,” in a sheet attached to a sheet that covered what could be a bookshelf. Berria was a video by Eneritz Furya for the Hall. I also look at the shelves with books that decorate the backgrounds of the characters in the recordings/photographs that are made from home. Do the books move to see certain copies (and not others)? Where would I get? My books are in boxes, not in a house, but outside the boxes I couldn't occupy too flat either, and of course I couldn't make a choice to seduce the viewer. I would have to go home to my uncles.

That does not mean that I have read little. I don't have many books in physical property. Reading has been, in fact, a matter of survival at some point in my life. And the laps I was giving to different libraries and libraries, like Ignacio Aldecoa of Vitoria-Gasteiz, represented an important percentage of my daily tours. In Madrid I had two cards, that of the city library and that of the community; each one could contain three books at once. I have passed through the book halls, here and there, crouched, seated, almost lying, fainted by rising too fast, from C to S, again to C, to B, and I will allow the voice I had enjoyed before, that a first paragraph has taken me from my chest and made me swallow, which is a book of a particular publisher, six from the same writer, two, that I have not read.

The house of my parents was not the house of the reader, but somehow they tried to read us (at 13 years old I was brought to Sargo from Durango, because they were stories, the literature of children or youth, and that inadequacy changed my life), but the ikastola (the lady who brought us photocopying the jewels of a treasure called Obabakoak) and the libraries were, above all, the ones that brought me to life. And I couldn't keep the vice up to my needs, because if I didn't have a public library at my fingertips, I've never had enough money (not even, if I continue).

Thanks to public libraries, many of us have read far beyond our capitalist capacity. Few. And we didn't need books that would tell us like we'd never read before, it's not a democratization that has enriched me. The miracle of the library is the other: the sublime, the revolutionary, the subtle, the crazy… is in our hands. I'm an aristocrat in the library, a believer atheist who believes in other worlds. In my case, that advice given to get rid of living in an absurd anguish is “take time to take care of yourself”, “go to the library”. If I was ever asked to “show your library,” I would have to go to the library. Many of the happiest moments of my life have been born in the library, in a place that doesn't cost me to be our species. And one of the reasons I breathe so calmly in the library is that what I'm going to take is not going to turn into a hereditary garbage in my house, there is no weight in literature, nothing is mine, in the sheet that we've pasted to the book we see the sealed dates, from one solitary to another, a calming relationship between brains. Looking at my material environment, nobody would see my treasure: taking me to the place where they take me, I carry a library hidden inside the skull.