For a while, I was overwhelmed by a mass of thoughts, images, sensations that kicked out whatever Apollonian clarity I had left (which wasn’t much)… A senseless game of synapses, a violent flow: a completely private experience, seemingly impossible to share. That wave that submerges and, in retreating, reveals old and new fears, childhood remnants, and memories that threaten the present. A collection of personal fragments—yet I believe anyone can find something that fits them… Maybe a slightly too-tight thought, or a pair of emotions that force your feet into some awkward adjustment…
You can’t really say “I was there too that day,” but pain and discomfort are often shared. That’s where I began—to give shape to ghosts that slowly transformed fear into scream, into word, into thing…
Amid this souk of items with no commercial value, my making created connections, giving a face to the leftover fragments of the game.
Despite the deafening noise that sometimes overwhelms us, it’s still possible to find the right words.
Listen:
“It starts with the escape, but one foot—too heavy, too big… much bigger than the other—keeps me firmly anchored to the ground…”
- First station: ready for the journey: girl + dog + head on wheels + moon on wheels + cat.
- Second station: kids, how scary
- Third station: big mama puzzle. quore – cuore (heart). squola – scuola (school)
- Fourth station: try to hold it in: heart + food + garment
- Fifth station: waiting to reach the bone
- Sixth station: to get out I’ll wear a war dress
- Seventh station: family: a tribe in the rain
- Eighth station: the attic: I climb, choose, sit, write, run… wait…
Surprise!!!: each visitor will be invited to write down one of their fears and, in return, will receive a surprise envelope.
Maria Luisa Imperiali Works & Words 