Changing point of view and keep collecting, finding, as the useful way of walking, bright, clean, sharp- let’s take everything we need, and combine layers, at the same time, as the howl of a blue evening, suspended like imaginary roots, flying high by sheer coincidence


following the tale of a running vision, of the everyday shrillness -away from each careless relation- the blood ties with my places, trading lifes turning in a sharp music, clear, stratified. 

it’s never a linear path, and there’s no references, maybe just a landmark tower, an unexpected fountain, and full colors talking the wonder of endless confusion.