_________________2021

I think there is a link between play and work, not a formal one but a primordial type of union. I need to touch to get to know and experience the things around me, to perceive their shape. Through the path in the spaces where the scrapyards of Gambettola operate nothing is born, nothing is dead. Nothing is destroyed, nothing is built. In this play space, I get dirty and assemble. In this space I do not destroy anything. In this space I create nothing. In this space my feet are in black and my head is in white. I decide to stay in this space, but this space is never mine. I assemble, I search, I get dirty, I don't clean myself, I use my hands, not gloves, I search, I assemble, I build, I look, I leave, I assemble, I build. I assemble with the flow of the big hedgehog to every space. I fix, I look, I touch. I get dirty, look and reassemble. But I don't actually build anything, because everything was never born and never really died.