Recco, July 2002. Lying on the couch, absorbed in reading a summer book, Carlo Gloria neglects the presence of the host. This because at that moment the core of his interest revolves around the attempt to forget the reality of the sofa, the house and the landscape, when the host proposes the idea of a scenic walk to the tobacconist Carlo Gloria responds no, at this time he just doesn’t give a damn to take a walk. At this point the guest in full withdrawal symptoms will do it alone. He goes out, jumps on the car and drives off. During the drive he mounts three prohibited ways accumulating fines for the amount of 247 euro. The delayed payment of the same will mean additional burden of 180 euro, for a total of 427 euro.
The guest and Gloria are almost friends. The guest is a painter, Carlo Gloria instead fiddles with the computer, manipulating at his will faces of people and things. The painter has a romantic vision of the trade. Carlo Gloria is cold and clinical as a pillar of salt in the sun. The host, who has never seen a pillar of salt melting in the sun, watches Carlo Gloria and does not understand his summer anxiety.
The guest trucks an artwork of Carlo Gloria with a mobile phone of last generation. The guest envy the very polyphonic ringtone of that cellphone and grieves. The guest envy Carlo Gloria the fact of not getting his hands dirty. Carlo Gloria envies his host the fact of getting his hands dirty. Why do both pursue an art that does not satisfy them is still a mystery. The host thinks he is an imposter and stops painting. “It ‘s typical of the great artists,” explains Carlo Gloria. The host then feels better and resumes painting rising to the level of normal painters. Carlo Gloria calls the guest, to learn the basic tricks and begins to paint. Carlo Gloria paints as the host suggests him but creates paintings that the guest would not be able to paint. Carlo Gloria and the host have misunderstood, but no one cares.
Bacon said that to paint a mouth you should avoid painting a mouth. The host does not know exactly what this story has to do with the Measurement’s Unit, but feels there is a deep bond.
Neuronal uninhabitable skyscraper. The appearance that deceives. What’s odd, go!
Marco Fantini
