The angels in the famous film 'Wings of Desire', during their daily flights, write down in a notebook everything that has caught their attention. I am not an angel, although sometimes I would like to be one, not only to be able to photograph everything without being seen, without having to ask permission, but also, and above all, to listen to people's thoughts, to really get to know them, finally, this humanity.

You can get to know someone through gestures, yes, through the tangible signs that man leaves consciously and unconsciously every day, through acts that are right and not so right; you could know through a thorough knowledge of the history of each of us but it would still be impossible, to know every little facet, idea, and thought, it would not be human. We will never know, fully, a person, a place, a story. But if I were an angel, then yes, I would be able to listen to everyone, to know you, finally, for real, and be able to understand everyone and everything. Perhaps, however, it is precisely in the mystery of incomprehension and non-knowledge that the greatness of life lies, that incomprehension that makes the world and man unpredictable, illogical, full of vital and sometimes disruptive energies. Perhaps there is no need to know the true intention and nature of a beautiful gesture when it is beautiful, because that is enough. Perhaps there is no need to know everything, on the contrary, it would often be better not to look for answers or explanations because life is like that, sometimes authentic and sometimes false, full and miserable, dense and empty. The angels in Wenders' film knew these things well, so well that they decided to become human, to feel life for themselves, to savour every little facet of it, which before was only the product of a real but aseptic vision, like their black and white vision. Like the angels, I too collected testimonies of what struck me, using photographs instead of notes written in a notebook.

Photographs that I wanted to be somehow words, light, scattered, evanescent,

evocative, telling not only about my Polish present, but also about the present - and in a way also the past - of a place that made me feel like an angel, that made me feel at home.

A place that I will never be able to recount and know in full, but that somehow I just have to remember like this, through a sequence of photographic words, which intertwine in a disorientated and very long Pindaric flight made of beauty, history, authenticity and deep feelings. Lodz immediately reminded me of East Berlin and so I imagined myself as the angel who, unlike the German filmmaker's film, lives and follows the inhabitants on the other side of the city. The desire to connect with the film is also linked to the fact that Lodz is home to one of the oldest and most prestigious film schools in Europe, if not the world. The project consists of a video projection deliberately inspired by the film in which and a series of approximately forty-five colour and black and white photographs in a vertical format, alternating the vision of the angel (in black and white) and the vision of the angel becoming a man (in colour), distinctly showing the two approaches to the world and to life.

The poetic composition "Invocation of the World", by Peter Handke, is for me the basis of this personal interpretation and research on Lodz, which, accompanying me throughout the work, outlined - unconsciously - those fundamental points on which to articulate the entire construction of the work.

This project is therefore a hymn to life and its elusiveness; to that life which we all too often tend to burden with useless concepts and exhausting superstructures, boulders that modern man finds increasingly difficult to bear.

A life which, because of its depth and brevity, should be like this: light and fluctuating, lived with a few words, simple and profound, like certain photographs.