Attesa di un’estate (frammenti di vita trascorsa)

There are various kinds of vacations: the summer ones with their lazy sunny afternoons at the end of August. The winter holidays spent waiting for summer; or those filtered through the eyes of child, the ones where we can find something of ourselves, in the steps and in the gazes. But holidays are also the vacuum left by a mother and a father, and an attempt to fill this void with images.