Este es mi hermano menor. Casi un hijo.
Mi cuerpo es tres veces el suyo aunque come cuatro veces más que yo. Les digo esto porque siempre que nos ven juntos, alguien suelta aquello de: "Oye, comparte esas libras que te sobran con tu hermano". Y yo replico al instante: "El que tiene hijos no muere reventao." Yano (que se dice así y no Del Llano, cómo le dicen algunos) es un maestro de la calma, la bondad y la mesura.
A diferencia de mi, habla poco, puede estar horas y horas en silencio. Eso sí, agárrate cuando abre la boca porque se va a bajar con sentencias rotundas.
Gracias a ese silencio del que es dueño y señor, es contratado como sonidista en proyectos audiovisuales (en 11:once, por ejemplo) porque ha desarrollado un oído impresionante y es capaz de detectar el ladrido de un perro a kilómetros o el pitazo de un auto y cuando menos te lo esperas, micrófono en mano en la filmación, suelta aquello de: !Corte por ruido!
Es uno de mis luminotécnicos en el teatro y también mi medidor de calidad. Cuando el público está ahí y yo padezco el encierro durante la función, a la única persona que me acerco a "quemarle la noche" es a Yano. Entro a la cabina de luces y hablo y hablo y pregunto una y otra vez: " ¿Cómo va quedando la cosa?" "¡Yo no sé pa que me dedico a esto!". Y él, hijo del silencio y la calma, no me mira, no me habla, si acaso me tira su sentencia: "¡Fuma!"
Yano siembra cactus y suculentas, haces bolsas de papel, teje pulseras de hilo con sus manos de araña, dibuja mangas, unicornios y medias lunas. Le he insistido para que se dedique a eso, le he dicho que montamos una tienda, que salimos de la zona de confort... Pero prefiere el universo que alterna los sonidos y el silencio.
Yano es Máster en Memes, Doctor en chistes de gatos y un soñador permanente.
Cuando lo traje a vivir conmigo a la ciudad no demoró en robarse el cariño de mis amigos y colegas. Es que tiene el truco, el muy condenao, tiene la gracia pa robarse la atención sin apenas decir una palabra. Como no le gusta leer mis post cuando son largos (Y este es largo) aprovecho y cuento que acabado de mudar, con el arique amarrado en la canilla, con aquel espanto campesino ante todo lo urbano, tarde por tarde, Yano se paraba en el balcón y miraba y miraba al horizonte durante buen rato. De pronto se volvía y sentenciaba: "!Está al llover!"... Y lo decía así, como si fuera a acabarse el mundo... Yo lo miraba y le preguntaba: "¿Tú estás secando frijoles al sol?" Y con la misma parsimonia seguía mirando al horizonte, buscando no sé qué, soñando con no sé qué...
A veces pienso que es capaz de absorber el silencio de los otros e interpretarlo, traducirlo. En verdad es una suerte tenerlo ahí, a solo un palmo de mi abrazo.
Fotos de mi propiedad. Tomadas con la cámara de mi teléfono Redmi 9.
The satisfaction of having a brother who loves silence
This is my younger brother. Almost a son.
My body is three times his even though he eats four times as much as I do. I tell them this because whenever they see us together, someone says: "Hey, share those extra pounds with your brother". And I instantly reply, "He who has children doesn't die broke." Yano (that's his name and not Del Llano, as some people call him) is a master of calm, kindness and moderation. Unlike me, he speaks little, he can be silent for hours on end. But be careful when he opens his mouth because he will come down with resounding sentences.
Thanks to this silence of which he is lord and master, he is hired as a soundman in audiovisual projects (in 11:11, for example) because he has developed an impressive ear and is able to detect the barking of a dog from miles away or the honking of a car and when you least expect it, microphone in hand in the filming, he lets out the words: Noise cut!
He is one of my lighting technicians in the theater and also my quality meter. When the audience is there and I suffer the confinement during the show, the only person I approach to "burn the night" is Yano. I go into the light booth and talk and talk and ask over and over again: "How's it coming along? And he, son of silence and calm, doesn't look at me, doesn't speak to me, if anything he throws me his sentence: "Smoke!"
Yano plants cacti and succulents, makes paper bags, weaves thread bracelets with his spidery hands, draws sleeves, unicorns and crescent moons. I have insisted her to do that, I have told her that we set up a store, that we go out of the comfort zone.... But he prefers the universe that alternates sounds and silence.
Yano is a Master in Memes, a Doctor in cat jokes and a permanent dreamer.
When I brought him to live with me in the city, it didn't take him long to steal the affection of my friends and colleagues. He has the trick, the damned one, he has the grace to steal the attention without hardly saying a word.
As he doesn't like to read my posts when they are long (and this one is long), I take advantage and tell him that after moving, with the arique tied to the faucet, with that peasant fear of everything urban, late in the afternoon,
Yano would stand on the balcony and look and look at the horizon for a long time. Suddenly he would turn around and say: "It's about to rain! And he would say it like that, as if the world was going to end.... I would look at him and ask him: "Are you drying beans in the sun?" And with the same parsimony he would continue looking at the horizon, looking for I don't know what, dreaming of I don't know what...
Sometimes I think he is capable of absorbing the silence of others and interpreting it, translating it. It's really lucky to have him there, just a hand's breadth away from my embrace.
Photos of my property. Taken with the camera of my Redmi 9 phone.