Sleep Of No Dreaming
“I don’t remember my son as it was before anymore, for me he’s my son as he is now; I kiss him, I tell him “my love” and he talks to me with the eyes”.
The road, the crash, a loud noise, before the nothing, that nothing lasting indefinitely of people in vegetative state, victims of road accidents.
There’s a vague sense of floating, eyes looking for nothing, lost senses, lost perceptions in just a moment, the body becomes the prison of the soul.
You may still want, desire, or just think in this limbo?
There’s no answer, the only certainty is what is left among who gave his life and who spend his life for these sons, love.
In this dreamless sleep, what is left…
Rome, between Don Bosco area and Torre Mura, here Casa Iride was born some years ago, a place that has been hosting guys and girls in vegetative state from neurological trauma after road accidents.
The family opens the door of the house, welcome me smiling, moving naturally, they always offer me something.
Here you enter a place out of every predefined scheme, out of every habit and thoughts, out of every ordinary banality where life is faced touching extreme human feelings.
I decided to deal with this work bearing that in mind; I would have faced different and conflicting feelings and moods. I was facing a clear and painful situation, that’s why I was intended to avoid easy pietism and give a full dignity to the guys and their families; create a story that was not a painful path but opening a window on a situation debated only sporadically and in high-profile cases.
I got the input from the case of Michael Schumacher, after his accident on the ski slope; my question was “how many people are in the same situation not getting the same attention?”
So I came to know Casa Iride, where I started working in Aprli 2014.
I have opted for a conceptual and smooth language, that was not really photojournalistic, but being able to explain the situation I was living myself.
I came out with “Sleep Of No Dreaming”, the title was borrowed from a song of Porcupine Tree, after six months working on it, where I passed through days full of smiles, tears, anger and pain, always lived with lots of dignity from the guys and their families.
I want to thank all of them: certain emotions are rare, a smile worth how a new life.
I close with an anecdote: I was entering Francesco’s room, he’s been in vegetative state for 8 years, and his mother Ivana tells me they were talking by eyes. Then she asks her son “do you love your mom? If yes squint your eyes” the answer is a thrill on my skin…