My soul weeps with pain
As the tip of the spine pierces/tears/sinks into the heart,
so guilt transforms every day the pain in the inexorable suffering.
And from mother to daughter I inherited the black wound
The book is daily missal of my mother who died before I could give words
to my emotions. The story is what it was and what it is. Memory becomes a relic.
Case – glass, mirror, metal, embossed lead, Japanese paper, missal paper, 18 x 23 x 9.5 cm
Book – Roman Missal – the year 1936, rice paper, thread, gauze, acacia thorn, lead, embossed and engraved tetrapak, aniline, engraving on Japanese rice paper, 10 x 16 x 5.3 cm
Libri Liberi, Firenze