Air stopped to watch a little girl talking to the trees and playing with the cobwebs embroidered with frost.
And as she wove garlands of daisies for placid cows, she caressed the surface of the planet.
On the flowery meadows, she chased butterflies, what she felt inside was bigger than what she felt outside.
Air stopped on the profile of the apple tree, to observe this mysterious Love for the Earth and the Stars.

That little naked child crossed the path of shadows, what is past is past, all this was to leave an imprint on the Soul.

HISTORY

Once I used to make the cows with the four-legged poles well planted on the ground, then I filled them with hay starting from the belly. Solid, full, well anchored, moving them was practically impossible. A series of events had forced me to make a heifer on a pallet platform, for an administration that did not allow me to fix it to the ground. I remember that I couldn't think about that job without being assailed by despair. Three months later I received a request from Valcucine, they wanted a cow to photograph and I had none. That's how I remembered the poor cow on the pallets, which had been stationed for three months in the pouring rain of a rainy autumn. The recovery and transport of the beast was not easy, it kept raining and she was dripping. They told me that they had put it to dry in a warm place and after a week they had placed it on set. But when they went to photograph her, they realized – to their general astonishment – that the grass on her back had magically been born. Like an unexpected gift, heedless of the place, hay resumed its cycle and returned to new life.