between reality and fantasy (tra realtà e fantasia)
TRANSCRIPT
I carry my unremarkable life
across the threshold of the artist’s studio to
find myself surrounded by a
wraithlike Arabian-night atmosphere
among shadows scarcely illuminated by red lights
which seem coming from nowhere.
I am confronting a very peculiar
artist: he asks me to take off my
clothesand to walk freely through the roomas if I were alone.
I see only his vague outline
but I feel his piercing hawk eyes on me:
his eyes are antennaecapturing the intimate
detailsof my deep inner essence.
I feel under his scrutiny while I recollect the words of an oriental song I used
to know…
“Burning sands,winds of desire
mirrored oasis reflect a burning fire
within my heart,unwatered,
feeding the flame
welcoming youto my harem…”
“sing for me a song of life’s visage
sing for mea tune of love’s mirage…”
“deep desires, sleep untoldwhispers that echo
the desert of my soul”
“I hold your eastern promiseclose to my heart
welcoming you to my harem…”
The artist signals for me to stop: he has found his inspiration
and starts painting with rapid movements and feverish anxiety…
His chest is bare and so is his soulin this unique magical moment.
He catches subtle energies across the air creating emotional chiaroscuros
which remain imprisoned within the canvas.
Oils and brushes seem to move after his joyful
talent. As if they had an independent life of their own they fill with vivid
colors the canvas surface, which now reveals his – and my – sensations…
“Sing for mea song of life’s visage
sing for mea tune of love’s mirage…
“Time is changetime’s fool is mannone will escape
the passing sands of time”
“I hold your eastern promiseclose to my heartwelcoming you to my harem…”
Creativity, fantasy, inspiration and who
knowswhat other driving
forces guide the hand of the artist when he
creates..Lost among the colors and the canvas there may well be the latent dream that only waits to be given the kiss of
life.
Maybe this very moment is also a
dream...
Nevertheless those brushstrokes on the
canvas are a confession…
...and this eerie music that doesn’t want to leave me...
The threshold that separates the real from
the unreal is often blurred and faded.
Just a step across the threshold of the door changes everything.
Between reality and fantasythere’s always a door
that marks the difference:we are that door.
Original oils & watercolors: Silvestro Migliorini
In Italy:www.silvestromigliorini.it
e- mail: [email protected]
International websites:http://www.slideshare.net/Migliorini
http://ppsmania.net/Sylvestropps.htm
Text and artwork:[email protected]
English version: [email protected]