a n g é l i q ue   b o u d e t   -   i t a l i a

“Ah, To have no more sense of existence, like a plant… Not even able to remember one's own name… Stretched out on the grass, hands laced at the back of my head, looking up at the the blue sky, the clouds blindingly white, sailing , blown full by the sun; to listen to the wind high up, in the chestnut trees, like a rumour from the sea…. Wind and clouds. Helas! Helas! you say. Nothing but wind and clouds?” Luigi PIRANDELLO One, no one and one hundred thousand

Tower of Pisa

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