Habitus plurale (il santo protettore dei pensieri persi)

Thoughts. Thoughts are born, they grow and die. Sometimes they materialize. Often they remain suspended, do not find the body or form, continuing to fluctuate, to wander until they find someone who knows how to pick them up and put them to good use. Thoughts are like hair. Grow, make their life cycle, age ... fall and go for a walk without a goal.
Thoughts are part of us: as the hair, the hair, the nails; evolve in our body, should be followed, cared for, looked after. The risk of "baldness" of reason is around the corner.
Fortunately collecting reflections, ideas, aphorisms flown away from our heads is the patron saint of lost thoughts. Ironically (and symbolically) dressed in a suit of woven human hair, to represent their transience, the holy collects everyone's thoughts and declaims them publicly, saving them from the dispersion, giving them a voice. Bystanders are called to participate directly in the work. Anyone can write thoughts and throw them into the heap of crumpled paper or can collect the thought of someone else, offering it to the cleric, only figure intermediate between the saint and his followers.


Work realized with Heracles Dartizio.