stunned 2

Imagine, a person captivated by the monumental Géricault aeuvre of "The Raft of the Medusa"
Imagine this man, writer, absorbed by the cloth, wet salt spray oozing bodies of the damned survivors.
Imagine marine painting, engulf the visitor, the space of days to follow, soak the curious to the tragic history of between las exhausted survivors.
The carrier sea promises as much as it can be monstrous living shrine or orgiastic to the painted surface by misfortune survivor. The spirits were marked by horror taste of poison.
When depth of the blades remain pictorial crusts, the indescribable movement, the irascible dizzying perpetual din of death tastes in the mouth debased thirst, remain to mourn those eyes that pierce the imaginary abyssal depths.
Remain a written vain, looking pure words, the point of prune frills, wading tape.
Do not imagine anything and finally go on a deserted beach with only the company of your soul, earth element, invaded immensity because water is at sea he must drink without restraint.
The human beast devouring soft bodies, brings the blood of the dead, the antichrist us closer to the ignominy écaeurante to the aid of small chopped lives, the sigh of memory leaves a taste to sea.

A aeuvre for aeuvre Alessandro Baricco is an indisputable painter, pen topped with pictures words that his sublime work on every page.
And if the world of the sea stood in a tear?