2019 - Ongoing
On December 4th 2019 I found my best friend dead. Naked and beautiful, curled up on those black sheets she looked like a moon, a statue, but not my Daniela; not someone anymore, but something.
I've never been able to write a diary page about that day but I've photographed everything with a resemblance of the only version I remember of her.
December 5th 2020
To someone it still doesn't feel true, to me it seems the most truest thing I have ever saw. The only truth we are allowed to know: life doesn't unveil herself until she dies, and from the first moment she's revealed, she's already potentially dead. All matters regarding art, I think they have to do with this after all: the revelation of things, and you Daniela, you were cold revelation.
Not a work about you, but after you.
An ode to me
To our 366 possible scenarios and to the only one you provided me
Verticality and horizon
To all the love I'm capable of
To life that occurs
To earth that doesn't betray
"I’m vertical but
It is more natural to me, lying down.
Then the sky and I are in open conversation,
And I shall be useful when I lie down finally:
Then the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.”