The beginning and the end of the war, in the view of the water that is amazing with humanity – umserginalian

We carry the heavy burden of knowing the complexities that make US creatures capable Benedict And the bomb, the apses come down from the trees to save the soil with our prayers and protect you with our crimes, to find mitochondria and statistics, to establish love and war. Our dual capacity for creation and destruction is the price we pay for our complexity. We live with it and die with it and make poems and paintings and hymns to transform the constant tension between these meanings, this illicit seed and the intensity that weighs on us.

In a world that lives on the occasion of its third world war, the Italian artist Alessandro Sanna began to paint his favorite poems from the first moment. It all started with a single poem – a beautiful addition to the small, surprising stone poems of the trust period – written in second ditches in the third summer of WWI:

I am a creature
by Giuseppe Ungaretti
Translated from the Italian by Geoffrey Brock

Like this stone
in San Michele
this is cold
this is difficult
this is basic
This is not desirable
this is absolutely
genius
Like this stone
it's mine
Invisible Sorrow

We pay down
death
By living

But as Sanna tried to paint the work of his war poets, he found himself unable to shake the mental images of all the damage, the miserable state of all the misery. In the writer's book, that was it Old as a stone, hard as a stone: about people and war (public library) – his extraordinary account of wordlessness and humanity and war – emphasizes Ann Hamilton's moving “inexperienced” singer and writes:

I just feel my hands thinking in other lines … I always put my faith in my hands – in their way of working, and how they want to capture the best action to solve the challenge of showing the sky, the mountain, or the sea blown by the wind. Hands think differently from our minds; The hands are more bold and creative. When the hands are working, they are not spectacularly visible and have no ideas, they always open the scenes, remove them, start writing from the program.

When his hands parted from the curtain of the thoughts of the understanding of this time, he began to see a large picture stretching like a tapestry all the way back to the beginning of our empire, and all the way forward into the bitterly heavy universe.

With the charm and emphasis of Rachel Carson

Since the dawn of time, the shining stars in the sky have looked down upon us with indifference, as we enter the age-old contest, suffering a contest to dominate all things unreported. Reduced to that level, the world is no more than a bright, watery pearl that just appears as unstructured as an immovable stone.

There are echoes in these words of the timeless poem “loving,” with its more loving stars, “with its central suspicion,” with its central vow of human destruction, ”

With the sense of the best fairy tales and the writer of the mirror was caught in reality, this story begins with one stone that was destroyed in a village in a village where two people, they are looking for the first weapon: they want. Men became groups that became armies and began to conquer each other, to conquer other things, to have animals, and books that became medicine that became a cloud of mushrooms.

All this time, the sun and the moon and the stars seem indifferent, looking at us forgetting what Dante called love that drives them, this and only heaven will know, in the living hell.

What Sanna's pages mean is more reflection on the decisions that stand between our predictions and our possibilities, not our end, but our inheritance from the stain and the stone; That perhaps we are here simply to learn that they are more loving creatures.

Two Old as a stone, hard as a stone With a small text of Einstein and Freud known about war and human nature, then again and again and again he returns to the story of the origin of the SANNA look of humanity.

Illustrations courtesy of Enchanted Lion Books