Wandering through the streets and cities. A door, a number, a family, a place. The steps of the boots mark the pulse of the walk. I look up, I look down, I look at horizon level. Everything makes sense.
In this series I wanted to explore the "door" object. Starting with a blind drawing of my face on a map of the port city, essential points of doors will emerge from this. And if you start from the face, I'll start with the place where the face lives -1218, my house number. From the ajar door, to the neighboring door, to the window that wants to be a door, to the painted door and the destroyed door, I will try to treat the door for you and go in search of all those that have the constituent numbers of 1218 in their name(1,2, 8,12,11,21,28,218,821).
I will draw the history of each door, its light, the people. The entrance and exit of cafes, glass doors, covered doors, camouflaged, doors that wanted to be windows.
In this way around the city and also through the doors of my house, I will try to perceive your movement in all of them.
Because the door is the echo of the right and the uncertain, of light and backlight. Almost as if the distance between things is counted by doors and not kilometers. As if people knew each other by their port number.