Now that you’re living, you can stop imagining. Listen. Don’t go too far: listen to the near space surrounding you. The car’s cockpit enveloping you is the safe womb of a wild animal. Inside there is no instability nor danger, even if it’s a place launched into space, chasing prey which today is just this experience.
But don’t mistake stillness with silence. Listen more carefully, especially when closer to a curve. Eight valves increase their rotational speed as a crescendo makes its way from deep visceral tones, until it growls to higher sharp tones that turn this sound into the result of rationality: the wild animal suddenly transforms into perfection of technology, its sound studied in every detail, the platonic growl of high engine revolutions.
The curve obstructs a view then opens the next; everything is reachable in this skillfully combined cathedral of elements that escort your hands, your body (you are momentum) and your hearing, towards a straightstretch that calls the wild animal. And the wild animal responds. The valves increase their revolutions once again and a slight pressure on your chest invites you to lean into your seat. Now shift your gaze to the mountains: they look like earth’s fingers pointing the direction. Upwards.
Outside, the wild animal howls for you and lets you feel its scratch, but inside you also enjoy this luxury: probing the superhuman limit between absolute silence and a war cry.
