«I am dead, alas, I was still so young and ardent life, I was spirited, rivers, loving the smell of the grass, my fields vertitude. Young and beautiful, I bit the life to the full, letting the wind caress my skin for the evening.
Here I am at rest, as was Juliet's tomb at the time. I'm so cold in the stone and my blood froze, like the great rivers of the North, I am taking the ice. I would live again. Then came the poet in his soul as a painter. His mouth touched my shroud, she whispered, «you will live in the heart of others, I paint. » Oil and brush it caressed my face in a long touch, I felt the breath of his mouth while she was painting on his canvas. I vibrated colored ice that froze my veins burst into a great thrill, I became a river of memories countries and past loves. You think I still asleep? Look at me, you soon find yourself opening the eyes, the windows of life. Just wait, contemplating the canvas, I will make you look into your soul. I was a recumbent, I was still so young: I live soon, by the magic of brush and poetry, the castle of childhood dreams of the painter who gave me life. »*** The recumbent, oil painted March 4.2010, for the love story of a young Italian marble recumbent that I wanted to give life in this first oil painting. Visitors who pass in the chapel of the castle you will find Musinens Ilaria, to whom I give eternal life through painting.
A Ilaria del Carretto
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