Fragments and quotations: an increasingly difficult city to tell

I confess that there are times when telling about my city and illustrating my relationship with it seems to become increasingly difficult. This will certainly depend on me, on my fatigue in searching for themes and images that are not the repetition of things already done, or on not finding myself too in tune with the transformations that are changing the city, especially the centre that is its symbol and showcase, into an open-air museum devoid of inhabitants and only traversed by crowds of visitors who are obsessively offered panem et circenses.

The fact is that nothing seems to happen in this city any more: once the pandemic with its load of slightly post-apocalyptic images is over, which, for goodness’ sake, no one regrets, everything has started again as before, more than before, like the words of an old song. Certainly the tensions, conflicts and fears that run through the world also echo here, muffled however by our disposition of spirit: we are like the three little monkeys that do not see, do not hear and do not speak.

And so I have no choice but to run after a few situations of ordinary madness, some fragmentary, unconnected and somewhat disjointed images, often with their backs turned, as if to distance themselves from them, and the resulting associations of ideas.