Between the cosmic dust and the expanding universe in someone’s eyes what’s the meaning of sitting in a silent room to create notes, colors, senses? For a moment, the illusion of a free, collective consciousness, bonded by the sound beyond sound… but then, only silence. Always silence.
So, what remains?
Maybe nothing. And still, maybe inventing is the only answer to this gastric thing that boils in all of us – a way of confronting and reinventing those big questions that will never be answered.
And, maybe, in that borderless creation there’s this thread connecting us all, you, me and Bernardo – a thread where dreams touch each other and we all learn, because nobody knows better. Some, even if not knowing better, know how to sing these questions with an essence of Beauty. They know how to establish time in a time that’s not ours, hear silence and lend it to you, so that you may hear it with them. Bernardo Sassetti is one of those few.
And it’s here, listening to his silence, that I find myself not having a life full enough of silence, time or space to pay him proper homage, or to deserve an award inspired in his world. I know how, if meaning anything, this award means only this open book, full of nameless colors, in front of me – all yet to be written, to be understood, to make me grow, alongside the special people which remind me every day of the scent of Life. Of silence. To silence.