Lisa Zillio

There is a tiny garret at the bottom of the Alps, an intimate space where lives were shielded for years. It remained closed for more than a decade to be opened one day in springtime, almost by chance. To opened it, it was like the light that, according to an Aramaic myth, pierces the shell of an almond tree to reveal the secret of life locked inside us. 

Since then, I've come back more than once, trying to figure it out. 

What I gather till now is a story about a soul and a Nation, about fatal decisions, grieve and faith, about becoming aware of being an individual without labels but willing to carve in stone two names instead than just one. 

Luz - gallery