Il ritorno

It was the end of August, it was 5 in the morning, I wake up to the light that filters through the window in silence of dawn, on the hands and the skin feeling silky pleasant, I see without looking, I see by touch and remains etched this feeling and the form in hands. I do not need brushes, a filter would be abhorrent, I need to put on canvas the tactile sensation. I take a canvas waiting for some time to be completed, white slip from black ... a clear vision that scatters the darkness. I begin to touch the canvas with his fingertips and I shape and colors massaging stendendoli support almost closed eyes in order to restore as closely as possible the pleasant sensation that I will always carry in for the rest of my life.