Légèreté & Profondeur

I felt that I wanted to talk about loves. The perfect and the limping ones alike, but mostly those that can never fit in any box, nor in any words. Those so light, that the sound of a voice might make them fly away, so deep they make any word you might say sound like a lie. I wanted to talk about them with the all the care and recklessness it requires, in a sweet and mad way, with both brio and precision. Like yelling a secret in a language that only I would know, minding nevertheless every single word with the utmost attention. A poem then. A photographic poem. Its grammar is dictated by the beautiful light of the outside. Its vocabulary is that of this secret intimacy. Opening the eyes and soul, you might hear the rhymes, the alliterations of well-being, the melancholic assonances, the slow and easy pace, mingled with silences, sometimes warm and comfortable, sometimes cruel.