- Cheshire Puss,’ she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. `Come, it’s pleased so far,’ thought Alice, and she went on. `Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?’
- That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,’ said the Cat.
- I don’t much care where–‘ said Alice.
- Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,’ said the Cat.
- -so long as I get somewhere,’ Alice added as an explanation.
- Oh, you’re sure to do that,’ said the Cat, `if you only walk long enough.’
- Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another question. `What sort of people live about here?’
- In that direction,’ the Cat said, waving its right paw round, `lives a Hatter: and in that direction,’ waving the other paw, `lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they’re both mad.’
- But I don’t want to go among mad people,’ Alice remarked.
- Oh, you can’t help that,’ said the Cat: `we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.’
- How do you know I’m mad?’ said Alice.
- You must be,’ said the Cat, `or you wouldn’t have come here.’
Alice, as I was telling you, is my favorite story. I believe that learning it since early childhood, has made me believe in the impossible and of course, think that we are all mad here.
One of my fists early illustrations in watercolors is dedicated to the part of me that goes along with Alice, the one that looks through the mirrors and see the reflexions of what might be in a paralel multiverse.
This constant need to leave the real
© Monica Aguilar V.