Let's talk about it as a creative act, a generating force, a state of being that can be assimilated to the divine as an engine of life.
It was 2018 when I created Inkakì, my happy place, where to collect the beautiful things that I loved and that I continue to love. A place yes, virtual but not too much, where you can tell the land I live and which has very little virtual. A space in which the story meets everyday life, the portrait of all those beautiful things on which my gaze rests and which my mind processes with memory. In short, moments, scents, colors and people that are imprinted in the memory. Stories, objects, pieces of art, food and design, linen tablecloths and crumpled shirts. No limit.
That must have been a very fertile period of the soul, and not only of the soul, because immediately after the birth of Inkaki I became pregnant with my son.
I have always admired those multitasking women with super powers who cook while breastfeeding and talk about work on their mobile phones, all with the nonchalance of the Indian Goddess Kalì with infinite arms.
Always, yes, until I became a mother too. I, on the other hand, decided to let myself be overwhelmed by the wave of love for that new creature, my most perfect one, which I now had in my arms. Inkaki, like the rest, could wait. I nursed my baby for eighteen months and felt his breath cling to my heart with each feed. I loved the slowness of days, until that when slowness did not turn into empty spaces to be created and so I understood that it was time to go back to take up my projects, my work, my life as a woman, as well as mother.
And this long pause tempered me. It is written, somewhere, or perhaps not, that it is the creature who shapes the creator and not vice versa, that is, that the creature somehow modifies the creator in his perception of the world and of things. It is also written, almost certainly in some scientific journal of the latest generation, that newborns who leave the womb to run towards the light at the end of the tunnel, leave part of their DNA in the mother's body, making it forever and irreversibly, a other woman than she was biologically before pregnancy. The creature that shapes the creator, in fact.
My son gave me plasticity and lightness. I went back to singing, to amaze myself, to dance, to laugh out loud. The approach has totally changed, to things and to people.
So I return to Inkakì too, with a new approach. I don't know what I'm going to talk about but I know it will be about beautiful things, without watertight compartments, without boxes or packaging, just fluidity of interests. If you are looking for order, stay away, here there is only an empath, sometimes less lucid at times but always, in any case and above all, a sincere flow of consciousness.
Only for those who are not afraid to look in the mirror and see the true reflection of fragility and imperfection.
In short, only for strong people or, as my son says, strong like King Kong.
