the impassable laced bastions that to the South East of the Milky Way and above the fortress that protects the intimacy of the houses of Delizia surround and protect with bold buttresses the enchanted gardens where the Gods play. The strongest essence of a single gray and bad mood approaches against the wind. My tiger notices this and roaring, the roar of her anger shoots out of her intellect, barely held back by a well-built Lamentation that has been watching my back for a few seasons. The angel retreats, intimidated by the meaning of the feline ally whose representation, emerging as an obsession with a lack of sagacity that makes his inner refuge barren, gives weight and measure to the very bad intentions that animate the impetuosity of the celestial spirit, thus confirming the quarrelsome nature which has always distinguished the Winged Messenger. Protected by the invisible, by brown bears and by the probable advent of similar misfortunes, by the slightly threadbare foliage of a branch of absinthe which, positioned between my loins, pierces my waist – an organic safe-conduct, an immaterial gift from an animist witch of Hokkaido – I set out with great determination to search in the dark for something that isn’t there and to find it. There is no guarantee or guarantee that this file will capture the gaze and attention of the passerby but thus the feeling is always involuntary – and this precludes the oath or promise – this is not the case for the actions for which it is legitimate to give a guarantee and become your guarantor, foul Demon who discriminates and supervises, I have a double-edged blade between my shin and my boot… and if by chance I smell you, if by fate or destiny I come within range… I will tear your sternum, I will chew your heart and spit.
…Torn apart with wing strokes and blasphemies,
the impassable laced bastions that to the South East of the Milky Way and above the fortress that protects the intimacy of the houses of Delizia surround and protect with bold buttresses the enchanted gardens where the Gods play. The strongest essence of a single gray and bad mood approaches against the wind. My tiger notices this and roaring, the roar of her anger shoots out of her intellect, barely held back by a well-built Lamentation that has been watching my back for a few seasons. The angel retreats, intimidated by the meaning of the feline ally whose representation, emerging as an obsession with a lack of sagacity that makes his inner refuge barren, gives weight and measure to the very bad intentions that animate the impetuosity of the celestial spirit, thus confirming the quarrelsome nature which has always distinguished the Winged Messenger. Protected by the invisible, by brown bears and by the probable advent of similar misfortunes, by the slightly threadbare foliage of a branch of absinthe which, positioned between my loins, pierces my waist – an organic safe-conduct, an immaterial gift from an animist witch of Hokkaido – I set out with great determination to search in the dark for something that isn’t there and to find it. There is no guarantee or guarantee that this file will capture the gaze and attention of the passerby but thus the feeling is always involuntary – and this precludes the oath or promise – this is not the case for the actions for which it is legitimate to give a guarantee and become your guarantor, foul Demon who discriminates and supervises, I have a double-edged blade between my shin and my boot… and if by chance I smell you, if by fate or destiny I come within range… I will tear your sternum, I will chew your heart and spit.
Catalog Mattatoio '88
Catalog Mattatoio '88
Video Mattatoio '89
Video Mattatoio '89
Catalog Mattatoio '89
Catalog Mattatoio '89
Thoughts come and go and are like clouds…
sometimes they slow down or remain suspended or they disappear and then return as if they wanted, this time, to be onsidered; and this may happen or maybe not, but if they are discarded once again then they will never come back and go to find out if they vanish, if they wand through the universe or offer their gifts to other intellects. Inside there are not clouds but interminable processions of heterogeneous particles transported by the phrases that feed sensa sosta the unstoppable flow of internal dialogue, of that loud river which flowing into the unfathable binds us to that slice of competence between the layers that make up the precarious collection of different awareness. Therefore, those who are able to understand quality in everything that is enclosed in an infinitime must be appreciated. The expertise that can increase the volume of what has been underestimated for a long time and this metaphysical ability enhances the reach of this inexhaustible flow of opportunities. The estimation goes even more to those who select the absolute preview of an original consideration since the new sophisticity, if not filtered by the discretion of a silent knowledge or secreted by some selfishness or intellectual narrowness, it will be offered to those who know how to use it.
