Respiri di Luce

Respiri di Luce [Breaths of Light]

Imagine a place suspended outside of time, where the body surrenders to silence and allows itself to be enveloped by a soft, almost tangible light. The surrounding volume is more than just a structure: it is a symbol, a thin membrane that protects and isolates, yet at the same time suggests a potential connection with what lies beyond.

The figures, in their stillness, speak of a primordial human condition: vulnerable and fragile, yet also searching for meaning. A return to the origins, to the moment when everything was pure potential—a gesture that holds within it an existential question: who are we, when all that remains is our body, illuminated by an inner light, immersed in the darkness of what surrounds us? The contrast between the external darkness and the internal light of the volume evokes a tension between the chaos of the world and the quiet of introspection. The light box is a liminal space, a threshold: here, there are no certainties, only the possibility of transformation. It is not a prison, yet neither is it an absolute refuge. It is a place of transition, where the body seems to float between two dimensions, as if waiting—for a revelation, a change, or perhaps a complete surrender to the present moment. This suspension invites reflection on the relationship between being and the space it occupies. The body is no longer merely matter; it becomes a medium through which light and shadow tell a story. The light does not come from the external world: it is a light that reveals and conceals, that defines contours yet does not fully allow what is inside to be grasped. This space thus becomes a universal place, a symbol of that state in which, at some point, we all find ourselves: alone with our thoughts, in a precarious balance between what we have been and what we may become. The translucence of the volume is not a definitive barrier, but an invitation to imagine what lies beyond, to question the nature of the boundaries that separate us from others and from the world. The reclining figure is neither fleeing nor fighting; it is simply there, serenely surrendering to a moment of pure contemplation.

In this suspension, in this undefined space where the essence of the human being manifests in its purest state, the body becomes the meeting point between light and shadow, between vulnerability and strength, between isolation and connection. There are no definitive answers—only an invitation to observe, to feel, to reflect on what it means to exist, poised between the visible and the invisible, between what we know and what remains beyond our understanding.