I think that by now, we all feel the need to rewrite the relationship between humans and the surrounding environment. To rewrite it, we need the signs and words of an ancient, forgotten past, essential for understanding the present and charting a course toward the future. Woodcut, as a medium, aids me in this direction; the familiarity of wood and ink on paper shapes the invention of a narrative about the sea, which has been breaking in front of the land where I have returned to live for time immemorial. The power of the image to fill the void is a symbol of my illusion because what I see and read no longer exists, or perhaps it never did; it is merely the memory of a dream from a long time ago.
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'Many are the forms of divine things. Around the continents, the great whirlpool increased its grip, expanding and contracting mysteriously without respite, as if its deep, salty abyss were swallowing the complexity of the cosmos, as if the great soul of the world no longer wished to endure the sin and suffering that the human species had caused it. But the breath of the soul of the world had emerged from the water and, like a whale, turned its tail to vent its anguish on the sanctity of humanity... and time will take away the pain and its spirit forever.' 

Capo d’Orlando,
June 5, 2023
Giacomo Miracola