Raise me to the silence of my sky,
Let evaporate this wet
Reverberation of a wizened
Thought, of a crouched down
Child in between two corners
Of the room, in the stillness
Seed-bearing fountain, spring-water nymph,
The breathing of your dream, in mine
Sovrapposizioni (superimpositions) is the title of one of my paintings in which the overlapping of 3 cut canvases allows a glimpse of the color behind and, at the same time, shapes its form: from plane to plane, section to section, color gives birth to the shape, and the shape gives birth to the color.
In my poetry, since my early days, the concepts of quiet and origin have played a very important role. Nothing is further from my idea than the understanding of the “quiet” as a peaceful haven, a shelter from the chaos of the world outside. Also, origin and quiet should not be misinterpreted as a particular moment when things come into existence, nor a place. Actually, these two concepts are strictly connected: the origin of things is in the quiet. It’s a faint vibration in the dark, an indiscernible nocturnal event. But still it leaves behind small signs, footprints that grow, ferment, like bubbles in sparkling wine. This place-time that originates space, this time before the happening, sort of peaceful Apeiron, in this poem becomes a sad child, crouched down and lost inside his solitude, existing before any connection is established, dark-matter-nothingness of conscience and life. And this child dreams – sudden and fortuitous minuscole event – and its reverberation shapes up space and time, gifting us with the freedom to exist, create, and go back to our nothing. But to “exist” does not mean, here, to be born. It means, literally, that each single atom of me physically and concretely bursts into the Panta Rei of this evanescent and vorticating space-time that everything encompasses. Evanescent like the bubbles of an effervescence, that is feminine and creative. Vorticating like a baby’s tear when it evaporates and whirls away towards its nothingness: the quiet 1 that encloses everything and eternally comes back.
- 1 – the “quiet” I am referring to is the hard-fought-for awareness of the imminency of the coming back of everything, the categorical affirmation of the human ability to create the world, awakening it from the nothingness of its sleep. Like in Deleuze:
“Leopardi once said that children can find everything in nothing, but adults can find nothing in everything. … But we, Superior Beings, not children anymore, and never adults, we, innocent beings, we know there is nothing beyond the All. But we also know, a deeper thought, that there is not an “All”! We know that we must shatter the All, we must unlearn to respect it. Innocence is truth in variety and comes directly out of the principles of Power and Will. Innocence is the thought that the One has to establish itself by generating and destroying. We know we are one thing with the flux of things, that we will die and will come back to be what we will become, this way establishing ourselves. This means that existence has no responsibility or sense of guilt. Now the player loses himself into his life, now he looks at it from the outside, now the artist is owned by his work, now he sees it from above… The child plays, then stops playing, then starts again…” (Gilles Deleuze, my translation)