The beautiful cars of the past are now clouds of memory.
The memory hints at their lines, and immediately enchanted sensitivities arise. They represent periods that have now become history; they represent a costume; they represent a society.
Those that have left the most mark, those that with their design have best described and declined the desires and ambitions of an era, have been the GTs, the grand tourers, perhaps the convertibles, the spiders. They appear small like toys, like archetypes of secret passions. Especially for boys, silently, they are the plastic definition of unconfessed loves.
Always at the top of adolescent and non-adolescent desires, always a status symbol as certification of a success attributable to a tycoon.
We see them suddenly appear like reserved jewels; we see them speeding through the images of a period film; we see them shining in the glossy pages of industry magazines.
We see them, increasingly precious and withdrawn, in confined environments. Now more and more clouds, ethereal and iconic. Loaded with a time that will never be again, perhaps loaded with rain. …
The work is done in digital painting.