Sunday, back home

Just over a year ago I left the house where I lived the most important years of my life. I often come back on Sundays, and looking around, with a mixed sense of estrangement and wonder I try to find in the objects against the walls memories and moments of my past twenty years. The objects and certain limited scenarios, are repositories of a memory that will survive to me and my family which still continues to live in this house. A house for which my parents have lived through years of sacrifices to build, years in which I grew up weaving an indissoluble link with these "four walls" and everything they contain.

I took these photos with an old medium format camera; the square format allowed me to make the vision in some rational way, in an attempt to trap the memory in an objective way, leaving "the things" the task of leading the viewer on a journey so personal and intimate as, perhaps, common to many of us.