My attention is addressed through his work, and I saw his naked soul, In fact I’m seeking a right word to say what I feel. He listen my silence

I didn’t now that it was possible to cares the body of Mother – Land. When I saw his work, this side of living I thought for antiquity and the mystic secret, the god and man in one relationship I saw the faraway and closer things That are things which beatifies Sancineto. He believes in man like son of the land with illusion for purity, and for culture.

Maybe he doesn’t now, but one voice speaks for him by inside, with one emergency for one patriarchal expression, by faraway which measure in geological era.

He is possessor of this true which can smashed like argil which can smash when fingers touching her. This are the things that can’t be improvise, this is clearly. Attract by the thoughts, close my eyes and meditate, the artistic pleasure, they had just aesthetic form win now memoirs.

Association of ideas improves original conception, Mother –Land give birth her self dreams.

After we have talk haven’t deduce anything like used between artistes, talking about everything.

The older modeller is called Terah - I have the courage- he is Abraham, Noah, and Haram’s father, he frame statues, or images of ritual for consult of character.

But I see a little pensively I find it – I say- our man is Tubal, Cain Lamech and Zillah’s son. Tubal is father of every handicraftsman, he is called like initiator of metallurgy.

After that I can say that I have understood the origin of Sancinetos’art.

His work fill this empty space which separate the rural culture from this civilized. Doing this creation he without understanding, did one heroic job

- I’m my self in these creations said he at last – they are the standards that I measure my enterprises, - and after silence…. But now I’m whose understand his silence.

- With this models, did you mean? – He said - sometimes is bizarre, she can manipulated me, meantime in argil is so implicit, and I can leave my dreams free after I have finished this creation.

I confess to know one philosophy true. I have learned too much from him.

The fire is the epilogue, of tellurian tragedy.

Being a villager guarantee the conscience that the creation and the land is in symbiosis, but in metamorphosis too.

But Sancineto have the sign to feels that he doesn’t is anymore the same persons. He has understood that he come by far way, and have a mission, he listen the mystery of Mother – Land.