we were made by the cities

History cannot go wrong, people built the cities. They constructed and planned, following the logic, utopia and utilitarian ideals. City is a creation that was supposed to serve the human and now it’s a power station that makes us as we are.

I’m taking London as a point of reference, because that’s where I’ve spent the last two years and that’s the place I will leave in three months for a different, obscure location. Trying to observe the rhythm of days, the silent noise of nights, the never ending blinking of the lights, I see the blurred lines passing by. Nothing I can discern in full glow, just a blend of images, constant rush, ambition pulsating and clashing ideas emerging. I need to be thankful for that, a lesson of life I don’t want for myself. For a while, that’s how I was, exactly like that place, always oblivious of good things, without the capacity to hear my own head saying ‘it’s a different way of being you need’. And then, millions of people, thriving or suffocating, loving or detesting, they find themselves in the set of streets, where they become the tiny elements of urban landscapes, either lost or found, the city wants you to fit.

Being non-conformist, being honest with oneself will always lead to the question about the physical place you’re in. I don’t want to be made by a city. I’m searching for the city that will be my natural reflection.