Salvatore Giorgio Scalici

Circus. Palermo, Italy.
/December 2016///January 2017\
Those are pictures of a non-existing place, of a vision.
Of something that only exists in a viscera, somewhere, in someone.
Of something totally subjective, that can’t narrate anything.
All of this, near to my house.
Gut says: “go to see that”.
A flash, a compact camera.
No preconceptions.
I start to walk outside, around the Circus.
Trying to shut up the fuckin’ cerebral cortex.
Trying to observe with bowels instead of eyes.
Flash creates lights, flash creates shadows.
Hippo screams, Lion in the cage.
I find myself going back there again and again.
Don’t know how, I’m inside the big top.
The show begins.


BIO | Where Do We Come From?
What Are We?
Where Are We Going?
A lot of questions,
Very few answers.
I walk around,
Sometimes I take a picture.
Trying to recompose
The pieces of my personal jigsaw.