IO ALLA FINE NON SO COSA SIA UNA BELLA FOTO.SO SOLO CHE VEDO COSE E LE DEVO FERMARE.E CHE A VOLTE HO QUALCOSA DA DIRE.ALTRE VOLTE, NO.


5.2.11

Reflections of Immortality.

The infinite sky, mirrored, reflected, almost contained in a tiny fountain in a remote village.
The boundless, the ethereal is contained, hugged and cherished by the enclosed, by a little cement square.
It happens.
Thanks to light and water: that are alive and donate life.

We are so small and yet we can contain and harbour within us reflections of immortality: of love, power, and wisdom.

We're mirrors.