Drops
of dew trapped in gossamer, transparent webs reflect never-ending
landscapes, with the colours of the sky, of the sea, and
dazzling golds, precious bronzes from ancient lands, each
renewed by the light of every new instant.
Soft as velvet, reclining on the warp,
rhythm, certainty, structure,
for each of the myriad threads which improvise
histories, landscapes, visions
for your shoulders, beneath your feet, in your dreams.
They are called wall-hangings, carpets, scarves, curtains.
For me they will always be pure light,
drops of dew, trapped...
for information, please contact me on:
orfeo@cybermarket.it
Some examples below |
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