“Do not retouch my wrinkles. It took me a lifetime to earn them”
That’s the well known request by Anna Magnani to her make up artist. Not a common invitation from a film actress, even from an iconic one, like she was.
Wrinkles are like books pages on our face. They tell about us, our familiar emotions and usual body reactions. Everybody remembers the day when, standing in front of the mirror, the first remarkable wrinkle is noticed on our forehead or at the side of the mouth. Something that was not there up to yesterday, and it will always stay with us from now on, like all the life baggage that we carry.
Wrinkles are the material shape of our inner scars. The ones that nobody can see and sometimes, the ones we also hide to ourselves.
It is a matter of survival nowadays. We don’t usually show our vulnerability around, like we don’t like to offer a coffee to our guest in a cracked cup. We choose the best set and hide the defective ones at the back of the shelves. And they pile up, this neglected cups with cracks, which we do not want to see.
But this is just a trick and deep down I do not like tricks.
A scar on the skin, a crack in a cup, a silly mistake and the memory of it, it is just a matter of life and imperfection, they say: it’s trials and errors. It is us trying to catch the train of happiness, running to the station, sometimes at the wrong time. Not a nice experience if you had a lot of expectations, but still we are here, and we can talk about it and we know, we have the evidence, that we manage to resist somehow.
And most importantly, we can try again.
Digital work on a series of drawings, Ink and acrylic on paper.
21 x 29, 7 cm
All images © 2012 2018 Rosanna Gaddoni
All rights reserved