Le parole che non ti ho mai detto
The words I never said to you. The words I wanted to say. The unmeaning sense of those words that I never had the opportunity to tell.
Empty pages of stories never written. Invisible but sensitive bruises that the body dresses. To evoke a lack, to suggest absence. The words on our skin are the symbolic legacy of what life has left us inside.
It is the infinite gravitational weight of silence that sediments in the depths of the soul. Overwhelming sense of void.
Unbearable sidereal darkness born from the collapse of the firmament. The abyss of a night without dawn, concealed secret night, perceptible as shadow on black canvas.
Shadows can be a safe shelter. They give comfort and refresh from the excruciating din of light. They protect us from our past haunted memories.
Shadows are made of the same substance as silence. A space, expressive and significant, of isolation, but not of solitude, where the need for emotional detachment becomes a moment of awareness of our frailties and our unease. It is an uncorrupted skin, free of cuts, scars, bruises. It is a primordial skin without deception.
But in these photos silence has malignant nature. Its is a caustic poetics, like poison that intoxicates and numbs reason and severs every feeling. It is an amputation of the soul. A slow relentless crumbling oblivion.
These photos are not literal portraits, but allegorical and symbolic mirror in which we project our regret for all that has never been and it returns to us the image not of a face, but of a condition of existential restlessness. An intimate gaze that opens onto an interior space to investigate the changing declinations of the sense of uneasiness of the human soul.