They say that memory has its own scan, which decreases with advancing age.
Store and forget at the same time. Without realizing it, we spend entire lives trying to export a memory, project it again into the present.  But how many of these reinvented moments actually happened? What if you find yourself in a new but strangely familiar place?
As if the many levels of overwriting of our memory let pass fragments of what has already been seen, experienced.  Sotto il cielo di Roma, tutto brucia is a compass.
An invitation to move within a space, to look for a different light to see better.
An invitation to move among the folds of our memory.