Sometimes it’s urgent to get back to the essence. And so I listen—silently and completely—to what’s inside me. For this to happen, I have to distance myself from everything that makes noise, so I set out
My favorite place is an island. Every time, I choose a new one. And every island has its own stories to tell. The choice is never random, nor is it ever deliberate. All around me is the sea, with its waves washing ashore treasures of distant stories. The wind, restless, with an uncompromising sincerity. The sand, which unveils universes of color. And when I’m there, all I have to do is open myself up, let the material reveal itself, let the form settle, let the color speak. And then there was Mario on the beach, the familiar face, the blue in his eyes… And instead of drawing, I embrace a vision. Instead of creating, I encounter pieces of myself in things and find my own story reflected in them. Sometimes it feels urgent to immerse myself in this vast sea, to dance.
Vitty, “Last Tango in Paris,” and the Sardinian sky as seen from the “La Prisgiona” nuraghe.
