michela chimenti

In 2019 I lost my job. I tried to survive forcing me to have a decent routine just to trick my mind and show her that, after all, everything's ok. The task was harder than I thought. I live in the Po Valley, a place that if it's not full of mosquitos, it's full of fog. I woke up at 5.30 every morning, and together with my dog Wilma, I run through the park, along the Ticino river, totally absorbed in a thick white milky fog. People think fog is romantic but they have no idea what living at the very bottom of a foggy funnel means. It's insane and it's more insane if you’re struggling with stifling depression. The fog hides water, birds, paths. Fog disguises space and time. The fog is so firm that the camera keeps on searching for the focus. Fog helped me to turn off the volume of my mind. When you can't see anything, you're forced to see yourself. The fog won. This is the best I could do with my disease. Then the pandemic lockdown occurred and the fogginess remained. [The series is made of 15 artworks]