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Durante il ferragosto di due anni fa mi trovavo in compagnia di amici a Nureci, in Sardegna, per festeggiare. Verso fine serata suonava un gruppo rock'n'roll che aveva galvanizzato l'intera piazza, l'atmosfera era magnifica, tutti erano contenti e io abbastanza brillo ero un grande sorriso vivente. A un tratto mi girai verso i miei amici e scorsi per primo F. Mannu, misantropo incallito, nessuna espressione traspariva dalla sua faccia, solo un caustico ghigno arrogante, cosi andai di soppiatto da lui e con tutta la mia irruenza da labrador lo spinsi e indicandolo gli gridai in tono perentorio "Danza Mannu Mannu!!"...Ricordate se mai capitate con me ad una festa, beh danzate!!

Year 2008: crisis, wars, uncertainties. Our society was already, profoundly scarred. At that same time the meme about the Mayan Prophecy started to circulate. The paranoia caused by it resulted in multiple interpretations, everyone gave it a personal meaning, going from the craziest to the poshest: some said “It’s just bullshit”, others prayed that aliens would arrive and some feared the implosion of the Earth. This time of uncertainty, though, made me grow up and face myself. In semiotics, there is no performance – that is, improvement – without a collision. Self and identity are a construction, and to evolve within it you need to change. In my case, the paranoia was the force that changed my point of view. I no longer waited for that December with anxiety, I looked forward to it: the Mayans didn’t foretell an “End” but a “New Era”. When 21st December 2012 came, I wasn’t afraid: I wanted to cross that line, as I imagined that day like an intense and infinite dawn.