Radici nell'acqua

At the beginning, I let my thoughts alight freely on my page. Thus: "This is what I want to start with today, reflecting on a photograph, taken a year ago on a Roman afternoon that seemed to be drawn in ink and watercolour". A symbiotic moment with that dance of nature upon the waters that took me back to certain places in my life, which are always in my mind: thriving Bali; the vastness of India; Bangladesh, the jewel buried in the dust, the weariness and the redemption. Places, where when there is water there is a shameless over-abundance of it… and everything is submerged, and everything is revived making it shine. Today, I do not have real peace if not in motion. When I’m here, I’m also there; and when I’m there I’m also here, in a (brilluccichio). The strange creature that I am, who does not take root in just one land, but would rather swim and fly, and on earth would only like to dance. And water and air are my time. And this photo is right for now, because aquatic is what I feel at this moment. From the depths of a fluid past, highly stimulating, though difficult to unravel, and that often makes me stumble, I yet feel the life that wants to float up and dance. And today, overcoming the uncertainties of the ‘ifs’ and the ‘hows’ of starting this project, I wanted to write words in the air with the branches of a tree dipped in ink: Roots in the water.

"And this, and so much more?" "It is impossible to say just what I mean?" (T. Eliot, "The Love Song of Alfred J. Prufrock" )