A Lily Story

One day I was walking around Campo de' Fiori to buy flowers for my mother for Women's Day. I looked around trying to choose the right flower to buy, the choice becomes more and more difficult if you buy flowers for years from your mom and always try to change. At a certain point, I saw some callas, tall, white, very green stems, they were very lively and smell so much of spring. I pretended to continue choosing other flowers to admire the elegance of this magnificent flower and to think about the immense wonders of Mother Nature, to compare those calla to the paintings of Georgia O'Keeffe or Diego Rivera, and to the photographs of Robert Mapplethorpe, maybe at that moment I also felt sadness and loneliness thinking that this poem has become complicated to remember because of the too much evil in the world that is trapping human souls. In the end I bought them and my mother would have liked because I consider her as elegant as these callas and for her passion for O'Keeffe. A few days later, I photographed them.