I remember the time I started searching for another world, and a new soul appeared from the shadows. I remember walking towards the storm, and looking at the lighthouse in front of me. That before realising I was at the end of a blind alley. Now here I am, still searching, exploring around.
One week ago I went back to Italy, and I visited my grandmother first. She is 95 years old now, and she is still spending the summer in her old house close to the seaside. I spent there one night with her and my parents, and the day after I woke up thinking to go to the garret and to photograph the place where the child I was loved to hide and looked at the sky. Here are the photos I took. I see them like a page of a private diary, of my private memory.