A photo diary about Isabella, Valeria and Romina, three sisters with whom I shared every hour and day of 2020. When the State of Alarm due to Covid-19 was declared, I was living in their land on the island of La Palma (Canary Islands, Spain) volunteering. Having lost the possibility of returning to my country, it was there that I spent all those months.

The confinement in the confines of the world. The last house in the village before reaching the cliff. Twenty-five cats, five sheep, one hornless goat, two dogs, three rabbits and then unexpectedly six more baby rabbits, three turtles, dozens of chickens, the parents, the grandmother, and me – adopted as one more of the beloved family. The four walls that enclosed us: the horizon of the sea and the vastness of the sky.

Our small paradise in the middle of the ocean where the contact with nature, the silence,  observing simple everyday life, the rhythm of a repeated landscape, and limited external social life further enhanced the magical imagination of childhood. The freedom, the innocence, the games and invented stories in the endless afternoons of summer, a season that in the Canaries does not cease as months go by, but rather expands itself through the year engraving as a continuous archive of memory.

These images are just a crop of that memory, a snapshot
of a summer, 
of gaining three new sisters in my life,
of a childhood 
in the horizon’s house.

The horizon’s house

A photo diary about Isabella, Valeria and Romina, three sisters with whom I shared every hour and day of 2020. When the State of Alarm due to Covid-19 was declared, I was living in their land on the island of La Palma (Canary Islands, Spain) volunteering. Having lost the possibility of returning to my country, it was there that I spent all those months.

The confinement in the confines of the world. The last house in the village before reaching the cliff. Twenty-five cats, five sheep, one hornless goat, two dogs, three rabbits and then unexpectedly six more baby rabbits, three turtles, dozens of chickens, the parents, the grandmother, and me - adopted as one more of the beloved family. The four walls that enclosed us: the horizon of the sea and the vastness of the sky.

Our small paradise in the middle of the ocean where the contact with nature, the silence,  observing simple everyday life, the rhythm of a repeated landscape, and limited external social life further enhanced the magical imagination of childhood. The freedom, the innocence, the games and invented stories in the endless afternoons of summer, a season that in the Canaries does not cease as months go by, but rather expands itself through the year engraving as a continuous archive of memory.

These images are just a crop of that memory, a snapshot
of a summer, 
of gaining three new sisters in my life,
of a childhood 
in the horizon’s house.