He draws a line. From a stretched decor like a backdrop, he carves out infinity. He paints evidences in the distance. The horizon becomes an alchemist. A surge whose beauty besieges us. The diver is mobile in all her stillness, as if encapsulated in a mysterious trajectory. It all plays out in a few seconds. The perfection on this side of the line, the imperfection over there. Or vice versa. Let's then place an eye on either side of the thread of this sculpture. Suddenly, the beauty of the flaw emerges, the sublime. From above the line that separates the perfect from the imperfect, infinity makes complete sense. Cavalcade, cavalry, rider, as if the muscular waves of the diver stretched their own strokes: C’s, for the slapping of legs, A’s and V’s for the amplitude of strides, L’s for the acrobatics, the dive. Let her jump, rear up… Here is a cavesson on the run, a keyboard, a harpsichord, in the distance already drawing Cavalaire, cavallo, Cavaillon, and even a caravanserai, like a distant place coming from afar.

The Scenario: In front of a milky grey sky, a cotton veil shivers. A barely visible shudder, a whisper on the side that embraces the crowd seated in the stands. On the surface of the water, mountains of lacy foam stare at each other. They float on the water, then fade away. Then, relieved of its weight, in a few seconds the diver will fold and take flight like rice paper, transformed into origami. On top of the world, perched on that big A, the diver saw what she could no longer see. She had forgotten the column that structures the form, the inner meanders that stretch the flanks, the landscapes that compose and recompose as the clouds converse. In position, she is ready. A soft and round body shaped like a bubble horizontally, and vertically stretched into a liquid "I" and this "L" offered to the public. When he looks too long upwards, she opens her arms wide, dreams of the cosmos and is tempted by a new figure. The blue of the sky turns cyan, cielo, azul, she is ready. But the intimate blue also likes to stay up late, to anchor its thoughts in the medal. She has dreamed of it forever. This Klein, indigo, marine, night, black dream. Oscuro. Both real and immaterial, density and chimera, she will know it soon. A touch of tension. A mint water pool. The clicks of the port, so close, so far. At the end of her arms, the bishop's diagonal. Shadows draw air windows on the diving board. At the end of the water, her dream.