It’s today that everything can begin anew, everything can be invented, and everything can look straight ahead. One foot in front of the other, head held high, hope even higher, faith a notch higher, and love above all else.
La Volante will be four years old.
How old will you be?
Is four years here the same as four years elsewhere?
Does space also play with our years?
Light certainly does.
If we keep looking for it, it will grow on us, lift us up to limitless beauty, transform us, change us, make us more this way or that,
You have to choose where and how to look.
Dare to dazzle, to empty, and to fill.
Follow the artist.
“I’m here, come, don’t come, find me, run away, answer me,
I’m your brother, your lover, a stranger, I’m death, I’m afraid, I’m lost, where are you?
In which direction should I run, to which ridge, to which summit? (…)
Pierce the fog with a sound star, and I’ll follow! And which of you is within earshot? Friend? Enemy? Let’s pack! We are a pack. Who loves me, follow me. Are you there? I’m the incomplete, yours, the inconsolable.
There’s a party to be had, we’re about to leave, the ceremony’s ahead of schedule, and I’m fragmented.
Anybody home?
I can’t wait.
Joy! O joy!”
To meet again soon, to celebrate, to capsize.
Somewhere in 2025
Here’s to you
