LA LUNA E IL PAGLIAIO

Once upon a time my grandfather had been a doctor, and he loved to tell me about how was it before. He often had to reach hamlets and isolated houses in the countryside of Abruzzo to take care of the son of a farmer, or give birth to a baby. Sometimes there was too much snow to drive and the farmer went to take him with a donkey. My grandfather told me of that life in the camps as a pure fable, and he regretted the havoc that the innovations made in such harmony. I knew that was not exactly like that, but I undestood his pain when he took me to visit old patiens, and we saw the last straw stacks, the fresh concrete in the yard in front of houses defaced.

La luna e il pagliaio

Oil on canvas, ink

24x30