THE PALLET – PILGERLAGER

In the hypogeum the damp stone becomes an invitation to rest. A stone softened by that temporary nest made of waste which becomes useful in alleviating the toils of the journey. For, crude, precarious, every bedding evokes the extremes of every existence... the first embrace of the sun in birth, the last embrace of the warm terra in death.

Sleep meets rocks, the stone of the bed that awaits and the stone of refuge in to the traveler's tiredness, and in the middle a tuft of straw that caresses itself for both of them.

The seeker of all time who has agreed to let himself be inconvenienced and opening up to the surprises of the path reminds that every rest opens to wakefulness waiting for great things that inhabit sleep and dream, between nostalgia and desire, that accompany the stranger in a safe sleep to find the strength to walk the last mile that separates the mother's gaze from that of her son.