An interview with The Tongue

We all speak with our tongues, although we don’t always understand each other. We all speak with our eyes, although we don’t always understand each other. We all speak with our bodies, although we don’t always understand each other. We all speak with our hearts, although they don’t always beat at the same rhythm.

Aware of these nuances, I had been restlessly organizing my interview. My long experience was certainly a factor in my favor. But there was one thing that bothered me: how should one go about interviewing a tongue that does not talk? Sure, everyone knows the Tongue, everyone has a tongue (well, almost everyone), but if this particular tongue can’t say a thing how should I go about breaking the ice?

No problem, I said to myself, communication is a very complex process. Sometimes when you think you are just not getting across what you want to say--bingo! What you have to do is to just let yourself go, rid yourself of stereotypes, preconceived notions, open up your mind, empty your soul of interference.

I had found the Tongue on a wall near the Spanish hospital in Buenos Aires. Enormous, red, daring, unavoidable, sensual, charismatic. Climbing the winding steps to the third floor of the hospital, it dawned on me that a relationship had been born. I would have to return. I would have to share my feelings with those of the Tongue. It was destiny. It was as certain as the light that always ends the night.