Artistic inspiration and magic

The bullfight fell off the precipice of boredom and dullness until a magician of bullfighting appeared, named Daniel Luque, who pulled out of his hat a round work product of courage, knowledge and confidence, and the entire plaza returned the illusion. .

And when it seemed that the show was over, Juan Ortega came out to greet the sixth in the afternoon with some irregular and beautiful verónicas. A tame bull was that last one, which he did not bite and galloped in banderillas. They called the bugles in the last third and the entire square was a pure unknown.

It was then when Juan Ortega was transfigured into the sublime artist within him, he took the brushes, soaked them with inspiration and set out to make those present happy. Some glorious shots helped from high, pregnant with courage, two from low and a very bullfighting finish by the left piton were the start of something great.

Two sets with the right hand, slowly, very slowly, twisting his body with that of the bull, a blessed, holy man who wanted to be the best necessary collaborator of beauty. Long muletazos, overflowing with harmony, gave way to a bunch of beautiful naturals, precious in their execution and trajectory, a treatise on aesthetic parsimony. There was still one more round, with the square going crazy, with the right and final aids before charging a perpendicular thrust that accelerated the death of the kind animal.

Two ears in the hands of an artist, who squeezed that dreamed bull, generated and raised for him, to the point of exhaustion. Honor and glory to virtuous people like Juan Ortega who were born to make others happy in a bullring.

And honor too and all the glory for a bullfighting magician like Daniel Luque. Meek bull was the fifth, dull and outcast throughout the fight, complicated, without any quality in his attacks, and Luque goes and studies him, analyzes him, x-rays him, diagnoses him and gives him a treatment that has an immediate effect. And the prescribed medicines were none other than the courage, the terrain, the knowledge and the security of a bullfighter who is an encyclopedia of the bull. He showed off with the cape in an apron dress, and then, he taught him how to attack, he forced him, he convinced him, and Luque mulled him at will with both hands in a demonstration of overwhelming authority. The power of magic, without a doubt, to which the entire square surrendered.

Until then, the bullfight had been carried out by some fair-looking bulls, comfortable in their faces, without bravery or chaste in their guts. The worst lot, once again, went to Morante, who could not show anything but a good attitude. Joao Ferreira and Curro Javier, members of his group, both stood out with the flags, and the second, too, with the cape in which he opened a position.

Luque and Ortega had no options to show off in their first bulls, although in the second bullfight of the afternoon there were a few moments of supreme beauty. Luque received him with a fan of nine very deep veronicas, topped with an exquisite medium and long one. He appears in the quite Juan Ortega and draws—literally—some glorious tafalleras, and Luque closed the moment with some tight chicuelinas and two poster stockings.

What seemed like an afternoon to forget became, through the art of magic and inspiration, an explosion of joy and an everlasting memory. That’s bullfighting.