1 Apr 2021

Tbilisi, 19 of January, 2021

The beer, according to the bold confession of the old lady, was expired: it was not possible to buy it: the few remaining items in the fridge were more similar to forgotten scraps of a minimarket completely covered by winter ivy.

Winter days are longer: as the night gets shorter the cold under the gray sky paralyze every movement of the body.

A constant question - almost as it were a lazy but heavy charged cloud – gravitates around on how to capture the social reality of a country which triggers deep compassionate feelings: feelings that gather all the elements that equate distress, decline, entrapment, sadness: from which angle can we recover those elements, or better; those detail that compose and construct a sort of stage.

If the relation between reality and the emotional response seems proportionate to the ability to observe the surroundings and their actors, the question regarding how to represent this reality remains unresolved at best, at worse it appears obvious, a reductio ad absurdum

An undeniable reality, i.e an obvious one, it is also a reality in which the proportion between the observer and the observed in the best case scenario weakens because it has lost elements of compassion.

As an example lets take an isolated building, alienating, built on the skirts of the hills that surround Tbilisi: a building of a non precise soviet decade, anemic, encircled by a virtual silence.

A structure half way between a castle and a prison: a warehouse of souls whose fortune were entirely consumed by the war, by the poverty, by the abandonment, by the inability to act or react, by the excruciating paralysis of misery, by the absence of social policies.

At the circles of hell, and purgatory Dante stops by to interrogate about the origin of the damnation behind the souls that animate those geographies.

I am only a shadow that pass by.