In a fate which has long been chosen, so much gets lost in the inevitable process of becoming. A becoming through ascension and descent, through falling and rising, but nonetheless a becoming which in its own processuality foresees the sacrifice of everything which is before, of everything that had been and of everything that will ever be ( Heimarmene ). The animal is born to die, a fate is given upon him, which he will never be aware of ( L’Animale Morente ), the self lies suspended like a paper balloon in thin air, fragile in the wind, doomed to decay ( Humanity And Paper Balloons ). Existence as a fountain ( The Fountain ), which does nothing but erupt and flow, within a short circuit from which it will never escape, but which feeds us and extinguishes our thirsts, showing us illusions of grace. The Gorge of a liquid that flows endless, only to sink deeper and deeper in its spires, the sweet slaughtering of everything we love ( Dolce Mattatoio ), the endless wake for something to change, enclosed in fortresses of an useless and infinite desert ( Il Deserto e Le Fortezze ).

Artwork by Perla Degli Esposti.

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