‘This is a room for women only. A place to think and maybe share the question of fertility. Women must consciously deal with that question several times in their lives. But fertility and procreation are not related directly to femininity anymore. A woman can be very feminine but decide not to have children.

The room has some ‘tools’: four walls where they can write about what they feel or what they desire. One of the walls has a structure that evokes the artist Daniel Buren. Another inspiration for this room is the book Hijos sin Hijos (Sons Without Sons) by Spanish writer Enrique Vila-Matas. The room in the gallery of Estrany-de la Mota becomes a living room, where women leave flowers, wine and messages.

♦ I will leave my body behind.

♦ Bones will I leave, only bones, an empty bed, a void with a name.

♦ When I die somebody will have to move my body, to dress it and to make it up.

♦ If anyone will remember me, I will continue to exist.

♦ My family, my brother, my husband,

♦ Victor, Helena.

♦ Friends that I can’t take with me.

♦ The older people.

♦ The women who cry.

♦ I hope that I won’t be alone in that moment. I hope I will be able to hold somebody’s hand on that day.

♦ What is important, is the distance between me and the other, I will leave that distance.

♦ The caressing of another body, everybody, everything.

♦ The sharing of moments with another person, the magic of a moment, fantastic momengt.

♦ A time you have shared in silence.

♦ The passion to die for somebody. To go into raptures, love.

♦ To love secretly, kisses.

♦ To make love many times. The wish to get to know each other. The knowledge, wisdom, feelings, my dreams, the remorse, my affection, the fear, despair.

♦ When I die I want to be unproductive, a lazy—bones will I be.

♦ When I die somebody will close the window for me.

♦ Why am I afraid of death, why don’t I know how to live?

♦ I believe that when I don’t suffer, I will be dead.

♦ We know very well, logically, that the organism will come to its end.

♦ Therefore we imagine a life we have already lived, a life of continuous constriction, of increasing problems, through the stupidity of it, that is life as we want to live it and also it is part of our souls, of which we say that it is part of divine, but with our life.

♦ Life is full of stupidities, I think that is very important for our understanding of the spirit of our time.

♦ I will leave the stupidity with a capital S behind.

♦ I will leave behind the unbearable lightness of being, as Kundera says.

♦ I believe that I will get rid of all stupidity.

♦ Everything I couldn’t learn or didn’t know how to lean.

♦ I die ever day and I am conscious of that.

♦ That want I do daily, going to the office, the repetition of enjoyment, with its sorrow and its fear, the uncertainty, that is what life is. I won’t think of death, no the contrary perhaps, I’ve grown accustomed to live like that, I accept it, I will grow old with it and shall die.

♦ I will leave behind unfinished work and an unhappy husband.

♦ When I die I shall make an image of everything I have known, just like at the end of the day, I shall work out an image according to what I live through.

♦ All that can be renewed will die, every day I renew myself and I die a litter more. My ego will die because the ego is only a process of thought.

♦ Thought is a product of time, therefore the thought will die, my energy however will stay with the living, female energy.

♦ When I die I will take secrets of other people with me, but first of all those of mine, my crimes.

♦ I will take my lies with me.

♦ Life has just no relevant meaning at all.

♦ I will leave no certainty.

♦ I will leave this sentence: ‘it’s not important to be first in the life.’

♦ I don’t need to write a book about my life.

♦ I am still searching why I have to die.

♦ When I die my emotional part will go, and then I want to be nothing, absolutely nothing, nothing.

♦ Stupefaction.

♦ The last day of my life must be the best moment.

♦ I will leave behind short anecdotes.

♦ To wake up in the morning.

♦ To walk next to someone.

♦ To look people into their eyes.

♦ To stop thinking, my routines.

♦ To drink alone.

♦ I won’t think of the others anymore, hard sex with all that follows from it.

♦ Love and death are the same, therefore is asking what I will leave behind the same as asking me what I will leave behind when I cease to love.

♦ The fear not to exist has caused me to possess things, that is myself protecting cleverness, my house, my small acquisitions, my long travels, therefore I will leave behind many things, but they won’t have the same function they had for me, that is the covering up or the wrapping up of fear.

♦ I shall leave clothes, letters, furniture which will smell of me, but after a while those things will get back their freedom or their anonymity and they will be their selves again, independent, free from the burden of my memories and my breathing. I don’t know.

♦ My books, my writings, my photographs, my records; a collection of things. A house with a certain smell, the sound of the river, the trees, the setting of the sun, my inner landscape, the light.

♦ When death comes it won’t ague with me, so I don’t know what I will be able to leave behind and what I can talk with me.

♦ I will leave behind my constricting loneliness.

♦ Although loneliness is a kind of beauty, a frozen beauty perhaps like the presence of death. I won’t feel lonely anymore, I feel myself a part of strange universe.

♦ I believe that I have decided, like so many other women, not to have any children, perhaps by an inner revolution, not only against a communist or fascist society, but against every form of brutal society and organized power; I hope that I will be a living proof of that after my death.

♦ Procreation is not the identify of my femininity , I won’t leave behind any children, no, but rather a continuous consciousness that governs all my days and night, a sight.

♦ When I think of the way we are born, to be born is to come into contact with the world in a brute, horrible and extreme way, and death is to lose contact with the world, forever, in an extremely cruel way, unique and terrible.

♦ What can I leave behind, something extraordinary, so that people and things will follow me as soon as possible?’