My father used to bring me to Elvo river when I was a child. I pretended to fish ... but I loved the sand that shone under the water. And then the smell of the stream. It smelled of fine weather, of fatty water, of sultriness, gnats, minnows and promising silt. The smell that life has when you have it all in front.
Now I bring my son Gioele. With cinema - the luminous instrument of the melancholics - I project myself back to my five years and become Gioele. And we are reflected together in those humbly infinite waters.