Lorenzo CastoreWALLS (SIGNED EDT OF 125)

Walter was my father's name. He passed away on 10 November 2019. He was 81. He loved women all his life, above everything else. They were his bliss and his curse. As an adult, Walter sought the warmth he had not had as a child and sought it between the legs of the women who loved or simply welcomed him, to finally feel accepted, well-liked, alive, less alone. Without too many words . . . a primitive embrace, a wild caress. As the years went by, lust for life and fear of death have grown nurtured themselves in an abandonment to lascivious and romantic pleasure. The exaltation fo the senses became a twilight hymn to life (and the impssible claim to eternal youth) inspired by flesh and beauty - the most powerful engine in the hopeless battles that every man loses against time.

This work crept under my skin unconsciously, beforehand and beyond my will and has grown in the same way - life flows in it destroying the borders between destiny, thought, vision, and experience.