“The smell of dust and liquorish: this is my childhood. I can see myself in front of the wall of my nursery school, together with the other children, scratching at that wall softened by the passing of time. It was not just a game; it was a job, and the dust collected inside this ‘Tabù’ sweet tin was the gratification of having produced something of my own, of ours.”

Madeleine per due starts out from this memory of my mother’s. It’s re-evoking a childish gesture, it’s adult awareness.

It’s bringing to light. It’s letting settle. 33 It’s disclosure, it’s revelation.
It’s the self and the other, it’s reconciliation.
It’s the past that returns to the present, it’s repeated archaeology.

It’s waiting, rediscovery and change.
It’s the progressive conquest of identity.
It’s sharing, it’s reality, it’s collectiveness.
It’s personal memory, it’s evocated imagery. It’s fleeting, ethereal, men- tal projection.
It’s all that which remains,
nothing but dust.