The ancient houses always have their stories which must be told.
Otherwise they are both, and it is not clear any more where the one starts and the other ends.
Scraped stones of the plaster walls, broken windows, wooden details take a form of intensive lights and shades by the graphite like a story takes a form for the one who enters a room and starts listening in silence.
There is something anxious, there is a shadow in the darkness where something unclear can be seen.
The presence of a female figure materializes in front of the doorway. It is so necessary because the memory of the past has always had to do with the female stories.
There were evening stories in front of the fireplace in Italy not so many years ago, about witches and fairies who seemed to know the herbs and magic formulas.
The pencil of an artist has depicted them in front of the abandoned ruins which are frequent in the countryside. In places where the human activity has not arrived yet in order to reconstruct, it is still possible to hear the old stories and they are waiting for someone who will listen attentively with the creak of the window blinds, with the rustle of a curtain moved by the wind, with the cat’s meowing.