I’ve been to Venice a few times. I live in Florence, which I immediately loved, as one loves a woman and I felt her to be alive and available to show herself in her essence and depth. I did not and do not see Venice as an antagonist and by visiting it several times I understood that it is not. Venice is another world, not better or more beautiful, just different. While in Florence I find a unity of colours, style and shapes, in Venice this is not the case. The range of colours, shapes and intersecting styles, between ever-changing images as you look at it, is so vast that I couldn’t make a fixed point. I have been dealing with styles for years and since it was not easy to describe and qualify a precise style, I understood that its heterogeneity, the various ethnic groups of visual cultures, is its style. But it is not many styles but it is the Venice style, unrepeatable and which only exists there. So I stopped making comparisons with Florence but also with other cities in the world. This mystery was repeated in the works of this collection. Women and Venice, an easy, immediate union, with many facets, between the mask and the depth of the psyche, dreamlike and carnival. Yes, the mystery of the woman is the thing that best integrates with Venice and this was my story. A journey without gondolas or vaporettos but a combination of colours, scents, magic all on the surface of the water and an endless atmosphere like a sunset or sunrise that never ends.