***

In my belly a flower
that sometimes I do not see
that makes me feel good
that makes me feel bad
that makes me feel bad
that makes me feel good

***

“Mondo” means world, but it means also hopscotch – the game – and it is the opposite of immondo, ‘unclean’. Chosen quite instinctively, this title embraces the tangle of aspects of my current work.

This research starts from the observation of what I would define the supremacy of result.

Our mania for an accomplishment, an apex of our personal biographies, our longing for a thorough self-narration that might be valid forever, that might tell us who we are once and for all.

No matter how many times it has already happened, we keep believing that somewhere or somehow we can be forever.

We are in search of ourselves among our pictures, our cvs, our social profiles, in whatever may dis- play an achieved version of us.

We collect fixed images, instants, endpoints, results, hoping that a chronicle of our several selves might provide us with more truth.

Our unconfessed desire to become things.

Then, there is breath.

The relentless, continuous action that accompanies us along our whole life. The invisible web of all our instants and fragments of self, with no other goal than the simple, bare fact of keeping us alive.

Life is the simultaneous and unportrayable trace of our steps and breaths.
Our only possible way of being is to keep being, to keep breathing and walking and ‘never stopping sculpting our own statue’. Our ever-incomplete masterpiece.

‘Mondo’ means this to me.

The resistance of a child playing hopscotch in the courtyard.
The never-definitive pureness that comes out from the continuous act of sculpting.
The ‘totality of facts, not of things”.

Teaser