Portami via con te

A cascade of small white letters fly in circles as if they were cuddled by the wind. The side walls through which visitors walk through are tilted as crumpled pieces of paper one can find along the pavements of our cities, and lift in swirling dance The wind blows onto the visitors’ faces and fades into projections dragging the small letters along. Words reassemble on the walls, continuously rewriting the pages of a hypothetical notebook.
Hats whirl amongst the words as if blown off passers-by surprised by a sudden gust of wind.