![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh96AeVgHrM9XBO1jdM98SCgTl8gJU29-nLeIv_2DLX8TgFr-316xFKvxu5G1pf2vXCj8dqiyqWUdLJENIf2HEW_o4p_WTbTwDsfxCcGvM0XVOGmMpskbQONeLjz9UYYsJF_ubOQ/s400/Analect2.72x.jpg)
4 April 2007. Warm gray skies, bus with glowing golden sign. Yesterday, Room 491, upstairs at school--somewhere in between a gaucho and a figure at the parrilla... Modeled in clay by some unknown Argentine sculptor, criollos tÃpicos, the ones who really seem to belong there...becoming images of themselves, however sentimental--for the feelings are there, at heart--as with Botero (if for all the wrong reasons)--they win us over with a kind of undeniable presence--as if things had always been so... esencia, lo verdadero...
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