A look around (the world)

Cristina Altieri


I believe in the eternity of some things, and in the mutability of other ones.
I think “what you can love, remains”.

I’ve had so many lives, and each of these has coincided with a change, a result of lessons learned, unlearned and then forgotten.
I grew up delicate and happy, in a confined space with light. As I discovered my own little world, I felt this shade that made ​​me increasingly thin.

There is a darkness in me, which is called Melancholia. I feel, from time to time, a crazy inadequacy to live.
It’s a constant streben.



Can you really chase the wind?
I thought of a thousand ways to go back from this free fall, deep too many days. But a thousand ways lead to a drift with no relief. The agony of a requiem without peace, and incessant desire.
Every time it goes back to visit me, a part of me dies, followed by the time of grief.

When my heart was young, it was totally overwhelmed by it. Over time I learned — in this order — to live with it, to let it go unobserved, to fight it. All this darkness constantly battles against a very strong light coming from what I can see and what I feel.
It’s a pendulum swinging very fast,
between nothing and everything.


And then it comes, Love,
and it frees me from the demon of darkness.
And if this is not love, then what do you think it is?
The only thing to make me strong enough to have the nerve to be happy.

You can meet Melancholia in my eyes, looking at the very bottom
and in the shadow of all of my photos.
You can meet Love in my eyes, but I will close them, for shame,
and in the light of all of my photos.


I strongly believe in salvation.
I’m obsessed by the inevitability of time, and by forgetfulness.
Photograph gives me the privilege of not losing any memory,
without being a slave to it.

I don’t know why I’ve been burdened with this weight, but I still
— with reasonable effort —
to consider it as a gift.

Self on the wire

A look around (the world)