giovedì 6 novembre 2014

"The Roses Fairy"

"The Roses Fairy"


The inspiration came to me this morning, 
thinking about all the roses that I could see 
and breathe in the beautiful rose garden in Rome. 
I still have the smell in my nostrils, 
and I wanted to carry that scent on the skin.


"Blood Bank"

"Well I met you at the blood bank 
We were looking at the bags 
Wondering if any of the colors 
Matched any of the names we knew on the tags 

You said "see look thats yours! 
Stacked on top with your brother's 
See how the resemble one another 
Even in their plastic little covers" 

And I said I know it well 

That secret that you knew 
But don't know how to tell 
It fucks with your honor 
And it teases your head 
But you know that its good girl 
Cos its running you with red..."

"In a drop of Blood"

I love the color of blood , the fluidity and the one that is able to transmit , 
is intimate, is a connection. Life and death at the same time .
For me to imagine the blood flowing is like comparing the passage of time ,
 the fact of represent the blood in the photo, is a way to lock it , to stop the time.
 I use it often , and I find it fascinating , every time.
I am a person who tends to be sensitive, and all that is around me, 
I feel amplified.
My sister lives and perceive my own feelings 
( and in this case the blood is a material connection and abstract ) 
she can read my soul , and she knows that I hide from the world out there to protect me, 
we protect each other.
I think that people who mark your heart are the ones who understand you , 
that make you good and evil at the same time, 
the ones that you feel even when you are not there.
My mood is marked  in relation to what is around me , 
it's my way of life photography, see the world without limitations,
as it should be , not as they see it all.
In addition to my sister and photography, 
there isn't a particular person or thing that distinguishes me positively or negatively , 
are a variation of things , which are mixed together. 
I can say that through this series of photos, shines the most important part of me, 
suffering and melancholy , which I love and hate.
This is mainly due to the melancholy thought of having to live in a wrong world, 
living a reality that does not belong to you, accept and live there. 
To escape , I try to talk to someone or something out there that sees the world as I see it , and the only way to communicate is possible through contact with the surreal , 
telling dark fairy tales, and dreams. I use photography as a bridge between reality and imagination. Because the dream world and  fantastic , is a world extremely serious, 
more real than reality . And ' everything that I can not write .
My real life is not here, it's in a fairy tale , out there in nature, in a drop of blood.


It's up to us to choose which reality to live. 
There are those living, those who live in the middle, and those who do not live. 
What for many is invisible to their eyes. 
When you're big, you do not believe in anything, 
your mind is clouded and you see only what you want to see, 
and you think it's fair to see. The brain is foggy, smudged of worthlessness, 
of what people call experience, wisdom, culture, continuous mechanical action called life, 
in the earthly reality the superfluous is the only primary need. 
When someone tries to "save" him will tell you to come back down to earth, 
the only reality he knows, but you do not have to listen to him.
You look for the only reality that exists, not what you are experiencing now. 
Is inside yourself, is that sometimes you can feel, but you haven't never listened.
You find your key, and open the door.