Little brothers and little sisters,
volume and objects with red binding

I want to talk to you about the oldest new.
Actually, no: I want to show you a door.
A small one. Which is close, so close, and so small that you thought you had to seek the New far away.
Things outside of us have always been around.
Things outlive us in the matter
They are mirrors, and are used to measure our distance
And they serve to confirm that we exist
And they are used to tell us where we are
There is an invisible house that we always carry with us.
Someone knows; others, sooner or later, will know.
I listen to what things ask me, I do what they tell me to do.
And then I look. Frequently, in the end
I train to be always ready, so that invisible messages don’t fall on the ground.
Things are a great salvation. Damn if they are!
They teach me to love this time of the matter,
To love this matter of mine where the soul decided to lock itself up when it was out of space and time
Listening to the voice of things, learning this subtle language, I dig the way to reach the soul.
I tie to hold together, to help materialize that energy that keeps everything together
I tie to repair, to mend, to see the invisible design that was already there, but now, finally, is visible. I have been asked to do it, and I do it.

Letizia Cariello, March 28th 2020