Once, Martí Sales (Barcelona, 1979) filled an oval shaped office table of about two meters in length with several objects which he thought defined him. There was an electric guitar, an iBook laptop and a pile of books of a wide taste: Miquel Bauçà, Calvino, Ovidio, Burroughs, Mercè Rodoreda, Torrente Ballester, Maurice Blanchot, Lezama Lima, Sebald, Cixous, J.V. Foix, J...





