Kidnapped by the whisper of the chilly air around.
And the bright, thin light reshaping the landascape.
Yesterday has gone, taking away the colours, subtracting those vibrations from the canvas of life
The new day is here
A brand new one
A different character
An harsh one
A brand new one
It is here, waitng for untold stories
And unknown actors
To fill the sequence of hours that it claims so strongly
New promises, they come and go.
New promises, just a joke, just a distorted game
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
I don't care, enchanted by these whiter shades of pale
Facing the wind, my cold friend, I stand still
The music of these minimal shapes
The rhythm of these elementary lines
The voice of those dark figures where the earth meets the sky
... When winter leaves her branches bare
And icy breezes chill the air
The freezing snow lies everywhere
My darling, will we still be there?
(Julia, from "1984" - Eurythmics)
Improvviso il rumore del vento. Voce roca subito smorzata, colpo di frusta nel buio della notte, sibilo cupo avvinghiato su se stesso a rincorrere la luna.
Improvviso il silenzio. Ad esplodere nella stanza ripiena di confortevoli beni di vita quotidiana, materiali ed oggetti high tech confusi con mucchi di carta e stampe, foto e lettere, snack invecchiati sul tavolo, hard disk da ripulire, cavi usb intrecciati tra loro, un caffè ancora caldo.
Stories and novels, stories and shades of words. Sapphire can be a voice, a whisper, a night talk. Colours in words, words merged and melted with pictures. Words as colours, words as shapes sometimes overlapping with the visual experience. A different way to see the world or, maybe, just the very same way using different tools and finding different paths.