The Cave and the Mountain
a project by Iacopo Seri
At one point, under the overpass, all that was left of Salvator Rosa was the platform: a ten-centimeter plateau. A mountain inside a cave, the perfect place for a hermit.
I lived there a whole night, on top of the mountain, drawing. I tried to make that place sacred, to honor what was in the air and in the layers of time around, in the stingy light of distant street lamps. I drew and dreamed and slept along with the mice the mosquitoes the dust and the ghosts of the cave.
In the morning I came down the mountain and out of the cave, my face black with ink and dust. I felt great.
I.S.
salvator rosa