Nunca forget the cold winter of the year 2000. Icicles from the balconies threatened to fall like daggers. The cold was so intense, I walked into a cafe to recover some of the lost heat. Once inside, from the large window I could see the bustle of people outside. I was struck by one man about 60 years, without shelter, I walked back and forth on the sidewalk. Arriving at each end, He turned on itself, and he takes the road to the other side; he stood at the height of a tree, he bent down, picked some leaves soil and introduced into the pocket. So again and again. As if it were an automaton the cold did not seem to affect. People did not notice it, but from inside the cafe it was like I could handle a pause button pausing to observe. No one caught my attention as he, who kept repeating their movements went really.
Without paying my drinking, I went to meet him.
-'I said good day. -It is very cold. But he did not answer. He just looked at me terrified, wordlessly. I took his arm and I went back into the cafeteria with him. -One, six, one, eight said. -How?, -I asked without understanding. -One, six, one, eight, zero, three. He was adding figures as they grabbed each of the dried leaves he carried in his pocket and at the same time, her fingers traced a circle in the air with a vertical splitting in half gesture.
-One, six, one, eight, zero, three, three, nine. -said. -I take the coffee 'I animé, as she took his hand. It was freezing. He sipped closing my eyes and I could see that in his wrist was a bracelet with his name, William, and a phone number. I realized then that it was an Alzheimer's patient. I dialed the phone and after a few minutes, his wife Patricia, visibly worried, He came looking for. He explained that it was William Utermohlen, Famed painter who suffered from the deadly disease. William, hopeless life, invisible to the crowd who was traveling with him, only he retained his youth in the golden ratio, the number of gold in art. This number is present in many elements of nature, and the rib of the leaves of a tree, or the spiral of caracola.La perception that we all have beauty, lies in the golden ratio. What comes closest to this number and proportion, more beautiful it seems. We see it in architecture, in paint, In music, and even in ourselves. The painting by Salvador Dalí, Leda Atomica, It was done in collaboration with a Romanian mathematician, and it is based on the golden ratio, but so we are in the Eiffel Tower, or on the face of the Mona Lisa, in works by Michelangelo, in scores of Mozart, or Beethoven's 5th Symphony. for example. William could not remember who was, but the magic number. He died in the year 2007, and he never let his canvases. It is frightening to observe his self-portraits from 1967. When I appreciated the last thing he did in the year 2000, I knew that William was beautiful. Art surpassed his illness. The eyes of his last self-portrait were two black spots inside the golden ratio ... The circle game with a vertical bar that William, I drew in the air.