Each page opens a Mediterranean, describes something Invisible to the travelers. Each page, through words, drawings, photographs, works, horizons, imaginary, reality, takes us into a world, opens the door to a slow reflection on details, dreams, hands, traits, poems, desires, maps, hidden memories, emotions, wishes, dialogues.
We discover how in each of us there is an “imaginary realism” and/or an imaginary that feeds our own reality. Too often we do not talk about it, we do not put it in the foreground, we simply let the sanctioned and homologated reality make us respond as we are expected to.
Many think that to talk about architecture we only have to speak through the architecture or to establish ourselves through the approval of other architects, while we are more and more convinced that architecture speaks of those who think and/or realize it and that maybe, through it, we need to focus, at least for some time, on the human being and on his thought so that architecture may belong to the world.
It is not necessary, it is not mandatory and to someone it may even seem wrong, but when this happens it is magic and unique.
We are time.
Our matter is our time and by way of our time we narrate a world, our look at the world if we are not overwhelmed by it even in the soul.

Alfonso Femia