3/10/13

The first time I painted on this wall, I depicted a wreath of flowers very similar to the one the Pope threw into the sea to commemorate the 368 victims of the shipwreck in 2019. I made it look wet, as if it had just been pulled from the sea. During the creation of the painting, I heard many stories: those of the survivors, those of their saviors, and the story of Mamma Maria. Mamma Maria lived in front of the wall and would sit behind her open door, watching the painting take shape all the time. She told me that she had fed all the survivors for days, gathering them around a long table in the square. It reminded me of De André's song, the fisherman: "...he didn't even look around but poured the wine and broke the bread for those who said I'm thirsty I'm hungry...". Mrs. Maria is no longer with us, but her daughter gave me one of her plates, which has become a precious relic for me, encapsulating all of this. This mural is not just a tribute to the victims but also to those who were there for the survivors. Because in the end, we all eat from the same plate.