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by Beatrice Baruffini

... a column that makes water on all sides ...

Incipit. The principle of all things: sources.

Miletus, Thrace, between the seventh and sixth centuries BC. C., as the day goes down. 

A man strolls down a small lane among the olive fields. The gaze is raised towards the sky: we do not know what he is thinking, but we like to imagine that his were among the first thoughts on the great philosophical questions. 
Where do we come from?
What will happen to us?
What is the principle of all things? 

Thales, a step-a question, a step-a question, a step-a question, always with his eyes to the sky, does not realize that he has a well, an enormous well, about the size of a cave. But it was a well. Because he was Thales, not Plato, and Thales in the well must end up there to start this column. To be honest, he has to finish there, to start a lot of things. So while the Thracian maid laughed - because we would all laugh to see a man fall into a well, he drowned. And as he drowned, he wondered
I can swim? 
I'm dying? 
How do I divert the course of the Halys River to reduce its flow and thus allow Croesus's army to ford it without difficulty? 
What is the principle of all things? 

From certain sources we know that Thales will be saved. Wet, soaked, soaked, it will emerge from the well. She will wring out her clothes, dry herself, then start crying. Quite a lot of. A liberating, reasoned, logical, epistemological cry. It will get wet again, from head to toe. He will squeeze again and cry more.

He will cry from dizziness.

For fear of dying.

For the wonder, the amazement, the mouth opened then closed immediately, after not to drown. 

He will cry for death and for life.

He will cry for understanding. 

Hydor. Hydor. Hydor.

Here it is, the principle of all things.

Animation 1. Word on black: 

Animation 2. Scenography word: backdrop. 
Water is the bottom. Light blue, marine green, aqua green, gray, dark blue, black. Deep, immersed, hidden, below, behind. The seabed is a limit, an ultimate border, a dividing line between what is known and the unknown. The desire to touch it can be so strong that it pushes research so far that the immersion reflex is not enough to get there, but technique, training and a deep thirst for discovery are required. 
Questions are needed to get off. Questions to make that little air suffice. Underwater questions. 
There are those who manage to reach the bottom without any type of equipment. There are those who need threads to sink. 
Animation 3. Ventriloquism word: apnea.
A deep breath, which seems like the last every time, before the great apnea. 
The cheers are still a long way off when starting a dive.

Animation 4. Puppet word: submarine *. 

Water is an underwater world that lives in an expanded and calm time. There, “we move differently” is a cautious process. The surfaces are soft, the bodies soft. They are corals, shells, starfish, they are anchors thrown to fix postures. Unexplored memories and perspectives. "Fortunes and damnations, which do not allow us to go back". They are stumbling blocks to explore. Dorsal fins are needed to move and breathe. Living where the light struggles to reach is a courageous political act; fish and men get confused giving rise to a new species. It is not for everyone to learn to breathe with other parts of the body. Someone cuts the threads and points to the ascent. 
* The word submarine and those in quotation marks are suggested by Maria Federica Maestri of Lenz Foundation during the online meeting The scene that educates organized by Altre Speed, about their theatrical poetics with sensitive people.

Animation 4. Shadow words: abyss, foam, waves, current, odyssey.

Water rises to the surface where bodies are projected from the abyss. Foam is created on which the silhouettes of a story stand out. They float, they float, they suffer storms. The waves are narrative rhythm, punctuation, pauses. They move the shadows towards the rocks, the islands, the landings. Mermaids are silhouettes of beautiful females; their song is a current, which Nobody opposes. 
The odyssey, seen from below, are even scarier because they are real.

Animation 5. Puppet word: water in the mouth.

Acqua supports those who embark and sail with the risk of being shipwrecked. It has led peoples to meet, merge, settle in barracks, fight each other, beat each other, kill each other. 
If Poseidon gets angry he unleashes a fury capable of manipulating the people. He slips liquid into the bodies, with the index finger pointed. Poseidon is an excuse not to swallow. A Puffin can do it: it quenches its thirst and does not swallow. He swears he can keep secrets. He slips away from a god who takes it out on those who have no wings.

Animation 6. Snowman word: castaways.

Water is fury and storm, a wet hell without flames. His once upon a time is a shore where you can cover up memories that you would never want to leave. A raft or the Titanic makes little difference when filled with fleeing souls. The wet horizon swings back and forth between a past and a future still without dramaturgy.

Animation 7. Object word: bottled.

Water arrived in the dark, on the shores of an inhospitable land. She took refuge in a ruined plastic bottle. It does not fill it up very much, it does not hold it upright. He finds it, crumpled up, a glass bottle, with the blood of wine, descendant of a lineage of controlled origin. It is covered with medals and awards; approaches the plastic bottle. One, straight shoulders, expensive dress, hat made of excellent cork, the other crooked, discarded, dirty. Close seem to belong to two distant worlds. 
They remain silent for a long time, so still that they seem dead, two uninhabited shells. They mirror each other: fate is a palm's distance away.
Suddenly the water starts to fizz. He shakes, trembles, can't hold on. You want to stretch. He wants to water it down.
Wine follows her. It fills with bubbles, pops of love, the heart beats on the glass of the belly. Salt on the neck. Water is sparkling: it has never felt so natural, so pure, so ready to start over.
Wine makes the hat splash over the moon. It comes out with an inelegant bang. 
They taste, they blend, they mix, they whirl together. The plastic and glass bodies explode.
They both overflow, exchange particles, flavors, names. They mix souls.
Together, they break through embankments, dams, walls. They reach the edge of the world. They drip from here onto other planets. 
They invade the space that begins to float with the stars.
Over there is a man walking down a small street, eyes up towards the purple sky, one step-one question, one step-one question, one step-one question ...

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