Maybe it’s not in the city.
Maybe it’s in the villages, down the valleys, behind the rocks. close to the sea, behind a water-fall where freedom happens.
Freedom to use what you have, combine the colours, the fabrics, plaid the wool as if it were your hair-dome, weave a basket hat, match a yellow scarf with blue and violet and embroidery and rough wool on your skin. All together.
With silver beads hanging from your head.
One day, in a village maybe close to a water-fall or behind the rocks, someone made art. She dressed beautifully.
One day someone dressed beautifully
the talking of the soul 