he will not recover the vision in his eye

The news that Alaska (Olvido Gara Jova, Mexico City, June 13, 1963) he will not recover the vision in one of his eyes It is a ray of shadow on the firmament of Spanish art and pop in particular. The thrombus, That dark whim of the body has condemned her to partial blindness that, according to what the singer herself has told her closest circle, will be forever.

For what remains of her life, as she whispers with a defiant, almost mocking naturalness, while the world around her clings to a compassion that she rejects with that grace of someone who has always walked on the edge of the abyss, without ever falling off the edge. all. Now he hasn’t done it either, so much so that after tests, doctors, consultations and injectable medications he walks day by day with admirable optimism.

This is alaska, the star who turned every blow into a choreography, every wound into an anthem and every loss into another accessory in his armor. If anything has defined his spectacular career, it has been the ability to turn disaster into spectacle. The irony of his blindness is not a twist of fate; It is a cruel metaphor of a life woven through prisms, lights and colors that now, in one eye, have gone out, but that she illuminates with a patch that makes her even more attractive, enigmatic, divine.

The thrombus arrived without warning, like one of those sudden storms that sometimes sneak into the Madrid scene. It was March or April, perhaps, an ordinary day that branched into two parallel lives: that of the Alaska that I could see and that of this new Alaska that observes the world with a reduced, but no less incisive, gaze. Because Alaska, even in her blindness, looks like no one else knows how: with that combination of impudence and tenderness that disarms. Talking about Alaska is traveling the paths of a Spain that changed with it. She was the girl with the voracious gaze who captured the Movida Madrileña in a handful of electric songs; the woman who embraced excess as an act of cultural resistance; the artist who never allowed nostalgia to become a prison. And now, this new Alaska, blind in one eye but more aware than ever of the fragility of her body, faces another scenario: that of the passage of time and the inevitability of wear and tear.

The look that does not go out

For Alaska, the blind eye is only part of the equation. She remains the eye that illuminates everything. In each interview, In every public appearance, she defies compassion with an unmistakable brilliance: Yes, blind in one eye, so what. I’m not going to stop being me because of this, is the phrase that can be guessed in his admirable attitude, which is not fake; It is the naturalness of someone who has made his life a carnival where the masks always tell the truth. The eye that now remains in the shadows is no small loss for someone who has made visual impact one of his most powerful tools. Alaska is not only music; It is image, gesture, color. Each photo of his is a baroque painting in which excess is the language, and each appearance, a challenge to the norms of the ordinary. That a part of your vision goes out does not mean that the show stops, but it does mean that it acquires a new texture: that of time that imposes itself, that of the gods of chance who, sometimes, demand their part of the deal.

Grieving in silence

The thrombus is not announced as a public tragedy. Alaska does not seek easy tears or media drama. For her, the blindness in one eye is an accident in the script, not the outcome. But, deep down, there is a mourning that is only experienced when the lights on the set go out, in that space that neither the stage lights nor the television cameras can invade. It is easy to imagine her alone in her house, in that Madrid that has always welcomed her as a queen and as a friend, adjusting her perception to the new balance. Seeing the world with just one eye means rediscovering everything: perspective, depth, shadows that now fall differently. But Alaska has never been afraid of reinvention, and this new challenge will be no different.

If one thing is clear, it is that Alaska does not need two eyes to remain Alaska. His talent, his magnetism, his ability to transform culture with every movement, do not depend on physical perfection. She is a complete artist precisely because she has always known how to deal with imperfection, both in herself and in others. The music continues to play, the lights continue to shine, and Alaska continues to walk the tightrope of life with that carefree elegance that has always characterized her. Now, perhaps, he does it with a little more care, but without losing his balance. Blindness in one eye is not a definitive tragedy, but a reminder that even the brightest stars have their dark side. For Alaska, that dark side is one more opportunity to show that nothing, not even destiny, can extinguish its light.