And that’s how the first time I started taking visual and verbal notes that had my body and my mind as their object.

On the first day of February when the sun, rising beyond the buildings of the court on which we face,  began to enter the living room, I moved the batterfly of Bonet castellana, to sip my green tea in the sun. I remember the pleasant feeling of the shoulder pointed by the red rays that brought me back to the memories related to the first April baths on Capri, when as a child I lay on the pebbles of the beach of Marina Piccola and fell asleep feeling the heat on my back, listening to the undertow of the sea between the pebbles and looking at the brilliance of the sea. I wrote with the phone and together with these reflections I took a picture of the detail, the sun on the shoulder coming out of the dark. 

I remember that after taking the photo I thought "the illuminated skin that comes out of the darkness as in caravaggio". John the Baptist appeared in google and the shoulder seemed idéntica to my, the curve after the bone, the slight shadow of the muscle, the neck scopeto from the turn of the head. But little by little other details seemed to me echoes of the same reality:  the hand resting with a slight pressure to touch a part of the same body as if it were others, as if he knew for the first time the unknown flesh of another anatómic fragment of the same body; the purple tissue, the brown of the objects that mediated between the living figure and the deep black of the scene. 

The second time I was in front of the mirror, sitting on the bed, in the mirror I had seen the slightly shiny and marble color of the clear and hydrated skin of the legs and so I snapped pointing true down. The image taken struck me above all for the fabrics that framed the crossed legs: the iridescent reflections of the pink satin of the nightgown carved in a dense play of folds and the starry blue quilt. Both details reminded me of Renaissance frescoes and I remembered a beautiful essay by Arrasse in which he compared and interpreted the various Annunciations by Fra Angélico. In the Prado garden and the sun gave fresh air to the scene and a beam of golden rays crossed the spaces diagonally up to the womb of the virgin covered by a pink túnica and surrounded by the cobalt mantle as the fresco of the vaults of architecture.

Even there after I went to look at the image of the painting I discovered there was a particular and multiple resonance: the knees that defined, almost measured the space, in the painting covered but mysteriously marked by the book opened in balance on one of them.

My crossed legs were also the objective correlative of the arms of the Virgin crossed on the chest, their skin stretched and almost white of stone as the white bruise of the uncovered parts of the Madonna, the terracotta floor as that of the interior of the dpinto that can be seen through the open door. Especially the quilt and the vault were an inner representation of the starry and infinite sky that, together with the sun on one side and my morning ritual on the other, allowed the day and night to meet in the same image.

In the last episode of this trilogy I was sitting in front of the door of the balcony wide open after a yoga class at a distance, I enjoyed a moment of Sunday reading when I looked up and I saw in the dark white behind the glass a faded ghost with a mane that looked at me through leafy exotic leaves. I decided to take that animal as a hunting trip, without too much understanding who it was. I was amused and I remembered when as a child leafing through a children’s book with paintings by Henri Rousseau I spent hours looking for the eyes around which I slowly recognized the shape of an animal in those thick and lush tropical forests, full of palms and ferns made of a thousand leaves of all possible greens. And so I found the two lions sticking out next to the naked lady on the couch. My reflection thanks to the forgotten title of that painting became a daydream of those magnificent ways never visited and always desired ....

It was as if through those shots a deposit of art had awakened inside of me that in turn spoke of light, sky, nature, open spaces and vast; every painting was a threshold through which I faced landscapes and memories that flooded my mind and my home. The dialogue with the works of art allowed my self-portraits to escape from confinement and become "boundless"

Barcelona, 4 March 2022