I look at a section of a city: Barcelona. It could have been anywhere. Without the strategic privileged position in which I find myself, I could not have done it. In fact, I never meant to, I just looked out the balcony and saw an older man walking on the roof without shop windows or people; only with himself.
My immediate reaction was to make a video, not a photo. I was attending a unique, private, historical event.
I open my field of vision a little more and there they all were. Life moved to rooftops and balconies. Contemplation and confinement became a way of survival. People with balconies look out expecting to see something that is clearly empty, some kiss or hug each other, others just talk, quite a few do some
exercise, look at the horizon, play ball, sunbathe, take selfies…
No one sees me. I’m hidden, they don’t know that I exist. For the moment. I observe, with some nervousness: the sensation of being discovered is the excitement of a *voyeur*. The smartphone has become an extension of my body, it is what connects me to the world. A world in collective hysteria.
That older man keeps walking on the roof. This vision has become the emotional thermometer of my confinement. If I see him, I feel good. Whenever the time to go out will come, who knows, the desired routine will return and he’ll go out again, watching people move, the cars, the noise of the city. Then, I will stop meddling.
It will be weird, for everyone.