Todo Huele a tierra y a sangre

gioia alikaj

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.

My Epopteia.

Not a work about you, but after you.

An ode to me

To you

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.”

Sylvia Plath

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