-Hanging memories-

On the shore of the coast of Reggio Calabria Italy, Mimmo addressed Mount Etna using the formal “lei” pronoun, grateful as if the volcano constituted one of the walls of his home.
In return, the volcano mirrored itself in his eyes, momentarily granting him a sense of freedom.
Witnessing the decay of the city environment, Mimmo became both judge and culprit, disrupting the familiarity he once had with himself and confining his energy to opinions.
He spoke to me, elucidating memories that contracted the muscles of his face, striving to make me believe that luck doesn’t depend on a sequence of sensible actions. When I encountered Mimmo, he was in search of hangers—hangers to suspend his memories on threads of light, hidden among the trees of emotion.