A year ago we lost Paolo Benvegnu,
and even now I sometimes forget it, as surreal as this reality still feels.
The years at DDR Studio are incredibly clear and present to me.
They were the years when Piccoli fragilissimi film was born,
and yes, everything really was fragile…
but no one could imagine how much fragility the future would hold.
For a long time I’ve thought about making something that speaks about Paolo,
avoiding all those things that, I’m sure, he would have avoided too.
His life already says everything.
In that period Paolo had a funny Asterix helmet that he often wore on his head.
He probably used it to balance the weight of what it meant
to survive, despite everything.
Don’t think this is a negative way to remember that time.
Believe me: everything was complicated.
And that helmet, to me, contained the meaning of it all.
My mind keeps returning there, telling me that the limit is not a wall:
it is a luminous threshold,
and an open mind cannot help but cross it.
A battle faced with irony,
yet with a depth that crept into every moment of exchange,
every discussion,
every silence.
A graphic novel will probably come out of it.
It will take time.
But it will come.
To get to know Paolo Benvegnù:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Arf45rNzRkY
Credetemi: era tutto complicato.
E quell’elmetto, secondo me, conteneva il senso di tutto.
La mia mente continua a tornare lì, a dirmi che il limite non è un muro:
è una soglia luminosa,
e una mente aperta non può fare altro che attraversarla.
Una battaglia affrontata con ironia,
ma con una profondità che si insinuava in ogni momento di confronto,
in ogni dissertazione,
in ogni silenzio.
Croyez-moi : tout était compliqué.
Et ce casque, à mon sens, contenait le sens de tout cela.
Mon esprit y revient sans cesse, me disant que la limite n’est pas un mur :
c’est un seuil lumineux,
et un esprit ouvert ne peut faire autrement que de le traverser.
Un combat mené avec ironie,
mais avec une profondeur qui s’infiltrait dans chaque échange,
chaque discussion,
chaque silence.
Creedme: todo era complicado.
Y ese casco, para mí, contenía el sentido de todo.
Mi mente vuelve una y otra vez allí, diciéndome que el límite no es un muro:
es un umbral luminoso,
y una mente abierta no puede hacer otra cosa que atravesarlo.
Una batalla afrontada con ironía,
pero con una profundidad que se filtraba en cada intercambio,
en cada conversación,
en cada silencio.


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