Lost in the mountains latent echo, in its overwhelming vastness and on the cold peaks covered by ice and snow, where the spirit flows like water into the rocks and releases from the imposed prison... It is maybe there where we revive and where our smallness to the world make us remember what is our real place and that things we are an immanent part of. It is in the journey to the clouds, on its ephemeral beauty, on its forms and elegance where I find the harmony that caresses the hills, plays with textures on the stone, with light on valleys and lakes reflections. It is in the lush woods and its paths, it’s in its darkness, where I find the mystery that fuels my curiosity. In the freefall of a cascade, in its sober roar turned into white silk....It is there where I find the real silence, where I find the everlasting truth. It is in the twisted trunk of a tree asleep in the middle of a steppe, in its centenary loneliness, it is in memory of a thousand twilights where I find wisdom.