"I'm no one. You know nothing about me. I'm a passenger, a sailor, a valet, an officer, a cook, a technician. I'm european, american, asiatic, african. Tomorrow I won't be here, but I will seem like I'm here now and every time. My life crosses other people's lives, who are like me, everyone and anyone. I through the seas in a travel that becomes perpetual motion; that becomes human flow animating a floating city; I become sap that pulsates on the decks, in the corridors, in the sparkling halls, between the jets of water in the swimming pools. I'm a multitude with no history and no identity. Through my shadow projected on the bulkheads, through my profile drawn in the light, through my silhouette repeated in a endless mirror game, I tell you my story, which is the story of a thousand, an hundred thousand people. I become one body in the apparent chaos of a cruise ship, big beast to which, although for a short time, I belong. A maternal womb, a home in which every man is an island."
Like spying through a keyhole, I project myself into the lives of the passengers and crew of a big cruise ship. Through my camera I observe this multitude of people, always the same and always different, giving rise to a huge and cosmopolite isolated society on the seas. Every year in Europe, cruise ships carrying more than 100,000 passengers. This is fascinating: the cruise ship, a bright and sparkling city in the sea, is the smallest container with the largest concentration of people from all over the world. People always different, divided into "social" categories, following strict rules, living in a tiny space. So, whoever you are, whatever your life or your history is, here, on the sea, you lose your identity to become part of a huge mechanism that runs cyclically, which is renewed in a continuous motion. You become one body, everyone and anyone, deprived of any connection with reality and with your being.