A moment always comes for me during the year in which I start to dream of the blue sea of ​​my favorite island frequently. It usually happens in primaverawhen the light that stretches reminds me that they are about to return the months in which I love to live, perhaps because they are the same ones who have seen me born. And even if the desire leads me season after season to return and return there, so much so that you know almost the dusty dirt roads and the low and fragrant rocks of those 14 km of earth, in a dream, the latter appears to me different from reality – but every time always the same. As a place that I don’t remember visiting, but where, surely, I don’t know when, I lived.
It is the same feeling that I feel in front of this work of David Hockneywhich portrays the swimming pool of a Californian pink house where I seem to have already been, in which someone (nobody knows who, not even Hockney) has just dived. Interviewed for the Tate, the artist said he had a lot of fun painting for two weeks a moment that lasts just two seconds – and in fact this makes me fun too. So from now to the next reunification with the beach of my dreams, I also plan a dip in Paris, precisely at the Fondation Louis Vuitton, where the largest monographic ever dedicated to the British artist will be set up from 11 April. It will be worth it if nothing else is the penalty just for the title, which I promise to not forget: “Do Remember they can’t cantel the Spring”.
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