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Solenoid
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crystal candy bowls on one
or three legged round tables
and china cabinets with
sailing ships. Sometimes
there are narrow corridors
between the rooms with
windows crowded by pale
crawling flowers. I always
go up and down a few steps
from one room to another
and I am always surprised,
once I open a door, either
by an enormous hall with
strange allegories on the
ceiling or, on the contrary,
by a closet which can barely
fit a couple of brooms and
rags. As soon as I come back
from school, usually around
six in the evening, I start my
search through the house.
The light is rose-red and
clear like a jelly filling the
whole space. Sometimes it
feels I don’t move and the
entire house rotates around
me: the windows come
towards me, the corridors
incorporate me slowly, the
doors openwhen they arrive
in front of me… Perspectives
change continuously and I
go forward while actually
motionless, always amazed
by the changing landscapes.
I eventually get to my
bedroom, which always
remains thesameamong the
changing rooms: the only
banal, dusty placewhere the
texture of the faded sheets,
the worn-out varnish of the
wardrobe, the wobbly table,
the nightstand where I keep
my treasures have become
transparent and eventually
vanished from the field of
my conscience, like you
can no longer see the soft,
upside down chalice of the
jellyfish in the water of the
ocean. Everything in my