shoes
nothing but shoes.
lead us stuck in them all my life and do not rebel against our lack of cleanliness, dragged our lazy or rushed, never ask, but where the hell are we going?
beings milder horses and oxen, but the shoes live a life of their mysterious, when we lay in the evening where it happens, leaving a little catch his breath, then talk to each other, maybe dreaming, other passages, paths in a milder country where the roads are less tiring, dreaming of a paradise of their own, dreaming of being at the end of the trip, placed in a nice quiet board and bright that read: my shoes, SUMMER 2007-2008. THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
but that is not the fate of any of us.
our fate is unpredictable, and ultimately there is no well-earned rest, no reward.
of this tough law this photograph is the exception: these shoes have brought people close to me and I dedicate them this modest celebration.
rest another winter, then next spring you will work till you drop, to a destiny that does not, as none of us ...
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