Light in the shadow
“In a blade of grass, I found the answer”
There is nothing else to say, it’s all here. And those who want to hear and understand these verses, simply need to undress. Here are no petals to hide among, no academic roots to anchor, just bend when necessary, move a dance step if the air allows, and stop when it is fine to go no further. There are no frills or illusions or tricks of the trade, the words do not wink, they flow, as time flows during the day, regardless of clock hands and other terms of comparison. Here, one easily slips through the layers of his own conscience – indefectibly heading to the solution with no hurry, keeping the pace.
I have the impression that this composition does not know the answer but it is just answering a call, and not out of necessity but out of love … “Dress me up in love, morning voice. Blues of a violin from afar, the life that’s playing it is in mine. I dive the flowers in love. ”
And then revolution, mighty revolution so peacefully pitiless as the serene finding of a fact to be resolved, to be aware of without the need to issue any judgment. “The dictatorship of vulgarity is failing “. Simple and conclusive.
Alessandro Sala is fearless but capable of delicate verses, one of those teachers who know how to fight without unsheathing his sword. And listen well, his blade of grass certainly whispers, “Fuck!”
From the forest of miraculous woods
From the forest of miraculous “woods”, who have the name of travelers engraved on their bark, who call you by name as you walk in the gray and misty moors, where time seems to stand still, where “witches” are still living in the mountains, forests seem unreal and sounds are distant. Where the nymphs, graceful and kind expressions of beauty and melancholy, quiet inhabitants of soul, live with their name written on the walls of the castle, where the earth, mother of us all pilgrims of the night, shines in the full moon light. This is the atmosphere that must have caressed Alessandro Sala’s soul to unveil the secret and irrepressible need, to rise and hover, light, almost evanescent, in a different dimension from that of matter, where the poetic word stands untouched, pure and inviolate, free from artificial pollution. The vanishing of “The muddy habits” gives way to chase the beginning of “a new day” through an intense exercise of listening to heal intimacy. From this particular spiritual perspective, we can witness the rising of a poetic world in which we can better understand the vital breath on which Alessandro Sala has always fed on and that is presently fueling his sculptural art . Spirituality in conjunction – opposition to materiality. ” I entrust my heart to the wind, the river, fire, earth” – with these words the warmth of the feeling of transience is recaptured “like the icy wind” carried by the flow of time and passing through, inexhaustible, relentless, endless. Time that is also traced back, expressing a kind of annihilation able to bite the soul, but that Sala transmutes into an opportunity for rebirth with “what a beautiful land” where the indefectibility of memory regains colour and thickness, as a promise of love. So, the final and ultimate question is mandatory: “Have I ever heard the sound of a drop falling? And its touch?” To remember and to remind himself that our life is nothing when the result of what we have built is oppression of the Other. To remind us that we are what we lived, we are living and what we will live and what we were able to build with our faith, our imagination, respect for ourselves and for the other, for a true and just freedom … like a drop falling … with his free touch. All that is left, beyond the laws of man is our will!