TEOTIHUACÁN, MEXICO
by Sabine Mirlesse

We are far away from Giza. Approximately 12,000 kilometres, in fact, and with an ocean in between. These aren’t those pyramids – we’re in Mexico. Although I do overhear a tour guide, mentioning a cosmic blueprint similar to the ones in Egypt.

It’s not a long drive, but we left before dawn to beat the Mexico City traffic, and just as I’m waking up – my neck in that regrettable diagonal position of begging the windowpane to support my head – my eyes flutter to see coloured spaceships in the sky. Preposterous. I squint and peer. They are hot air balloons in the orange haze or mist or dawn light. I think there is a word in Spanish for that morning phenomenon, but I studied Italian in high school instead. I’m sure there is a magical Robert Walser short story about a hot air balloon, but I’m not sure at the same time. They are beautiful. Baskets floating upwards. From up there, maybe that blueprint is evident.

We arrive before the crowds and tours. Just some wild dogs running around in the distance that have surely decided this is the most obvious location to bear their pups. A special place to be born. They say even the Sun was born here, in Teotihuacán. Some even claim it is the site of the beginning of everything.

It is home to three pyramids - those of the Sun, the Moon, and the Feathered Serpent. The steps of these structures are made of lava, and their silhouettes mirror the Cerro Gordo mountain range in the distance. Everything is intentional, nothing is random here. The light turns blue and you are invited to ascend with hands and feet, these manmade volcanoes: the only way to find yourself at the top. Not for the faint of heart, someone says. Well, none of life is, you think. Pyramid as metaphor. Too easy, you think. Pyramid as pyramid. Sufficient in and of itself, if anything ever was.

They are aligned to the constellation of Orion, famous for his belt of three stars – that is the blueprint. In Giza too, where the pharaohs were entombed. Stellar architecture, literally. Daytime has burst upon us and there is a flute playing in the distance. Below, people are selling obsidian filters, allowing you to stare at the sun. Teotihuacán starts to fill in the afternoon light and you escape just in time, having nearly had everything to yourself if only for a few moments. And all the balloons have grounded on your way home.

• Sabine Mirlesse is a multidisciplinary artist currently living in Paris. She has a particular interest in landscapes and explores how geological sites are divined, interpreted and recounted.