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Time,
desire and loss. The
struggle between memory and oblivion.
A memento mori.
The bouquet of flowers were wilting in front of my eyes and
I tried to document the process. How impossible to catch the decay of
nature. Elusive
and doomed to fail. Some
time later I rediscovered those small simple sketches, enlarged them and
transformed them into thousands of lead strokes.
It was a way to give the present some value.
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