December 26, 2017
CALLIGRAPHY FOR PEACE
MULTI MEDIA LIVE PERFORMANCE AT MANA DOWNTOWN MIAMI- 

December 1, 2017
MIAMI- ART BASEL 2017
December 1, 2016
LEGEND OF LEDA AND ICARUS

THE LEGEND OF LEDA AND ICARUS



it was an exorcist with all changing faces of the devil- or it might have been the miraculous music- for it’s destiny was not driven by his desires but by a higher mystical goal- unknown to everyone- almost even to himself- laying down-high- he was trying to find refuge from the intense labyrinth of his visions-and here was the danger- love was a miracle- and only for he was seeking for the highest— he longed to make this demon appear- to fight and wish for victory- he knew he was gifted to reach the sun, but also the darkest abyss- he knew life here had no meaning but learning the skills he would need for the great journey- he knew he was apart- part of the wind- but it felt that this dream could not be achieved without the beloved— not be translated- the secret could never be revealed- he must learn- he thought, the language in which he could create his vision of wisdom and passion- and without her it would be impossible- oh death-charming menace- coming so close he could tough her.

-both os us- leda said, our goal is not to melt into each other- but to make our differences brighter

-we are opposites, seeking the same light.

awaken-who knows himself- his infinite power and radiant weakness-  intimate knowledge of the nature of death- escaping from reason- around him everything became blurry- abstract- unconscious—he felt- face on ground- released by this deep desire of non-being- to penetrate the great suffering of the world- pulse of death-pulse of life- the abyss that he reached now- embraced by the great spirit-he was still here, in part- but everything felt so distant- from another world- we could see him- touch him kiss him- but never reach him- he transmitted his lights but never his shadows- leda came with fire in her heart- great power to destroy his solitude- for they would chase the great spirit in the cavern of invisible shadows- she could understand his darkness, his most hidden forgotten sides of himself-denied by everyone else- she provoked the death of his mortal sins- for she learned more by looking at the flowers in the fields then in any book of the library- this truth was eroding finally falling apart- ghost of reality in ashes- he heard the call- this way was uncertain and insane, but there was no others- for he was engaged in a world where words lost their meaning- where we attract each other with owl screams-` where only poetry rules- where only immortality is sacred- and he surrendered to the silent lips of venus- laying it’s painful destiny on her breast— a discreet perfume reminded him she she desired him profoundly- beast of flesh- beast of heart- beast of soul— nothing he would do to her  something that he did not desired for himself- something that she had herself somehow provoked- the originality of her kiss destroyed all resistance in him- they would fly- and now- and they would embrace all magic consequences of their acts for they were engaged in a loud dance that nothing could stop— not even their deepest fear- she had her way to say things-spilling pearls of poetry with decadent beauty-they were so alive- so awake- so conscious of every moment- that never they would be back- they would never embrace memories- he had under his eyes what he had experienced only in his deepest hallucinations- the universe lifted her veil to let them see- to let them be- his hands spoke another language that she knew and embraced into her irrational circle of being- she made no difference between giving or receiving- man or woman- death or life- penetrating or being penetrated- same union- same dance- they could feel at every of their kiss all the beauty and suffering of the world- for their love was expansion- was not egoist, never possessive- noble images and poems came like waterfall of the arts- at the fountain of the immortals- traced since forever but invisible- they felt with silver trembling hands the great mysterious beauty of this world but also it s tragedy - they preserved in their souls untouched images of purity- in them survived the myth of the origin- for their fears they transform into light and power- to save them from the dance off death- the menace of darkness- they witnessed the fall and death of a million flowers-as they would fall themselves one day- would he ever captured in it’s entity her silhouette of shadows ? for she was using his brushes and his hand to be immortalised  in the glory of her intimate mythical essence- she contained the whole universe in her- she was painting through him- her joy to her deepest suffering- fusion of blood and spirit- to preserve the eternal secret: masculine and feminine as one-

- I did not created that, whispered Icarus, you have guided it to my soul

 Staring at the abyss of the unknown- she pulled out a string of pears that he swallowed- to bring his eyes and his hands together- his flesh and his heart together- these visions were not form - they were energy- they were poems but never defined- they would never reduced love to a shape or a word- they would risk their life for immortality- love had destroyed all their memories and old rituals- their boundaries were on fire- they had to find a new way to exist- love came like the strongest wind- taking everything on it’s way- they just felt at this moment the caress of this wind- but he came from the depth of times- from the birth of the human soul- when myths were not define yet- 

his pact with the -duende - made his existence harder- for he could never let go -for he was in a constant search-in a constant explosion - his affiliation with death pushed him on the higher realms of life- what would be eroticism if death was not hidden behind? what love would be without the quest for immortality? He would fall back into long silent moments of darkness- where no images could come- he would hear the drums of the march of death-  black hand holding a white feather-  he would scream like a warrior- she would come like delicate music- death never kissed her- to him death would come like a lover- like a swan on a dark lake at night- her silhouette was made for love- for she carried in her the seeds of universal peace- she never knew- he had draw so much that this world was a white paper- not conscious of his surroundings- he would offer his life to this sacred beauty-  the sacred ecstasy of risking his life for her- her lips came closer- heavy with desire- their first kiss erased the memory of a thousand lovers- heaven opened up- hell too- for everything was revealed at the same moment-  he saw her into a pearl egg- they would remain in the sun until the moon took them away- how would he ever paint the image of love that would survive long after their death- how she could leave a trace of perfume that could be smelled by generations to come-  how could they write a poem that would inspire all  lovers for a million years- they were not man and woman- they were love-  and in the act of love-they lost their gender- she was penetrating his heart- his soul- his body- she was the universe- fugitives on the run- what love would be without the great mystery? -it was evening it was night it was morning-their dance was endless- never they had feared dawn- never they had feared the deepest shadows-they would risk all they were to reach this place-there was no tother way- her breath were verses of the most beautiful poem for she carried with her the primal song of earth- the survival of this place depended on the survival of myths- sacred spirit- mythical beasts in human bodies- trapped in human history-  this is where they were, dancing on the streets of atlantis- drinking from her breast the elixir of youth- 

she gave him the grace of the white swan

he gave her the fury of the black bull


end part one

captured in bangkok. march 2016

(written with the cut-ups process after narcissus and goldmund by herman hesse)

carlito dalceggio


December 24, 2015
I SHOUT AT THE HOLY-
in process-combine painting- installation- 3d cardboard cut-outs-