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My Cage Is Your Palace Palace | drawing session | skin
Ink on paper, hand made net, 2011- 2013
Ink on paper, hand made net, 2011- 2013
The Cage is the body, the Palace is the body. The Cage is my narrow view (the artist). The Palace is your wide view (the public). You can se me more rationally then I do. And Vice-versa. We are the mutual mirror of a subjective truth.
The skin session analizes the surface of this metaphisical body. The little, obsessive net of triangles forms an organic structure of sensations. The body is a landscape. The triangles enlarge and diminish in function of another body getting close or away. There is erotic tension and desire. The not fulfilled contact is the epiphany of the excitement.
The skin session analizes the surface of this metaphisical body. The little, obsessive net of triangles forms an organic structure of sensations. The body is a landscape. The triangles enlarge and diminish in function of another body getting close or away. There is erotic tension and desire. The not fulfilled contact is the epiphany of the excitement.
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My Cage Is Your Palace | poetic session
There have been moments -When I felt in the mood- That I’ve lost consciousness To be aware of life So I said: “You’re welcome!” Through an overwhelmed explosion of enthusiasm. There’s been an icicle falling right there, On the top of my skull. The head was big, Better I would say long, in a torpedo’s shape. I was ashamed but I didn’t know why. I asked you please to step by. Introduced to my tongue You climbed down To the centre of the house. There you’ve found a beating muscle In a suitable red dressing Jumping bright, dumped and happy. The house was me, Built on concrete, flesh and bones. All melt together by an intense Burst of passion, desire and love. Everybody’s been able to notice the wild forest In the middle of the hall, The gate is wide open, Like my stomach Waiting to host the Host. I’ve recognized in you the similar, The equal fantasy And it was true. So you climbed even more Sinking down below To reach the other centre Of this architectural wonder You discovered a pulsing flower Crying for you to enter its garden. You brought me water. I gave you a flavour, a scent, the essence. I was embraced by thunder, My soaking vibration. You left me a note: “See you next life.” I died right there And in a second I was born again. My new life is now, Special guests crowd the house Celebrating the newborn emotion. They toast sipping holy-bloody-good wine. I still feel my mind To be bigger than this Cage. I still feel these arms To be shorter than you all. But you breathe the fresh air in my Palace Because there’s no ceiling, nor roof at the top. |
La mia Gabbia è il tuo Palazzo
Ci fu un attimo -quando mi sono sentita pronta- In cui persi coscienza D’essere conscia della vita. Fu allora che dissi, In sovraccarica esplosione entusiasta: “Tu sia ospite benaccolto!”. Venne un ghiacciolo a cadere proprio lì Sulla cima del mio cranio. La testa appariva grossa Meglio dire lunga, in forma di siluro. Provavo vergogna Non ne capivo la ragione. Ti chiesi, per favore, di avvicinarti. Fatta conoscenza di questa lingua Hai scalato verso il basso Fino al centro della casa. Il muscolo pulsante, Impeccabilmente rosso vestito, Saltellava luminoso, umido e felice. La casa ero io, Costruita in cemento, carne e ossa Tenuta insieme da un intenso Impeto di passione, desiderio e amore. Chiunque era in grado di notare la foresta selvaggia Al centro dell’ingresso. Il cancello spalancato Come lo stomaco Nell’attesa di ospitare l’Ospite. Ho riconosciuto in te il simile, La stessa fantasia Ed era vero. Sicché scalasti ancora con foga Affondando verso il basso Fino all’altro centro Di questa meraviglia architettonica. Hai svelato un fiore fremente Che t’implorava d’entrare nel suo giardino. Mi portasti acqua. Ti diedi gusto, profumo, l’essenza. Fui abbracciata dai tuoni, Mia fradicia vibrazione. Mi lasciasti una nota: “arrivederci alla prossima vita”. Sono morta in quell’istante E un secondo dopo Sono rinata ancora. La mia nuova vita è adesso Dove ospiti speciali affollano la casa Per celebrare l’appena nata emozione. Brindano sorbendo vino sacro-sanguinoso-buono. Sento ancora che la mia mente È molto più ampia di questa Gabbia. Sento ancora che queste braccia Sono troppo corte per contenervi tutti. Ma tu respiri l’aria fresca del mio Palazzo Poiché non ci sono soffitti né tetti ad ostruirlo. |