In a society of the body cult, which has lost the recognition and reverence to the elderly, in a virtual world stuck nevertheless to the ground, the possibility of reaching the flight, the beauty of youth and the apparent loss of memory in old age, warns of the madness and the maelstrom in which we are submerged and vindicates the culture of the South; the one of the reverence to the time passed without hurry.
There are many formulas to combat forgetfulness, whether visual or written and to preserve the memory of what was lived. Time records memory, photography stops time. I use this medium to express what I can not with words, to preserve in memory, our time, what we live and what we were. People, places, objects, everything has its history and you have to register it, so as not to fall into the most absolute oblivion. The forgotten did not exist.