And now my meandering takes me
to that composition glimpsed from
the SS115, scattered around, inside
and on top of that rocky porous
tuff, that aromatic hill.
Olive, almond and citrus trees
alongside bushes of local caper
and thyme, engaged in their battle
to conquer the travertine ground
as the six senses take over.

SR Bended ground curves into concrete
slabs and stone walls turn.
A landscape organism seems to arise from the earth
inself. A metamorphosis is taking place,
and I am lured into the animal womb.
The Baroque spirit lingers as my
very body oscillates within the fluid
space while strolling through the stone
palace. The walls on either side of
me bend to generate convex and concave
surfaces and courtyards that allow
in the light.
Facades gaze towards the landscape
in search of the right exposure and
once found, open up to it in an illusion
that dilates the space to infinity and
dematerialises the masses around me.
No mortar is found between the
massive 300-kilogram stone blocks, curved
and piled. I experience the outside
inside the building. Intimate and silent
in their continuous interpenetration,
architecture and nature entwined.
Just as some corridors lead
unexpectedly to the water tank,
these moments are not collisions but
encounters. To the north-west, a
beam breaks free and bends in on
itself to form a flying concrete ring
that hovers above the ground to delimit
a courtyard without enclosing it.

In the sofa's embrace, I pause to
absorb the sunset. Lines predominate
the architecture and generate a living
organism.

I snake along the house
trails. The sense of spatial dilation
and contraction is here continued.
Concrete floors of varying colours
and materials help me find my way
along paths that expand here to become
living space or come together there
as tangents on circles, geometries
to define the functions that peace
and discretion demand.
I rest inside the cool round living
room and on the round seat. The
scent of burning wood drifts into
my consciousness. Paths fold upon
themselves only to ascend and descend
in steep or gentle stairs, merging
or drifting levels apart.
Movement is central.
"How big is this palace anyway? How many rooms
are there? Nobody knows, not even Uncle. He says
a palace in which you know every room isn't worth
living in."
- Il Gattopardo, Luchino Visconti.