_Once I bought the Photo Album of Armani.
The book is a long time collecting dust on a bookshelf.
News about the death of the famous couturier reminded me about this album.
Photos in the album were wonderful, but the book did not say anything about what happened.
Looking at photos, I realized that they no longer reflect the true state of affairs.
My inflamed imagination painted other images.
Something had to be taken. I have decided to remedy this situation.
If the book is illustrated life of the Master, then sudden destruction of the integrity of the book would be an act of illustrating the death of the Master. At the same time, book illustrations were to survive, mutate. In the new form they would have to display a symbiosis of Death and Memory.
Possessed by this idea, I picked up a pair of scissors ....
When everything was finished, I proudly showed work to my wife.
She stared in horror at the mutilated book.
I began to share with her by my thoughts on the death of the Master and the idea of my project.
My wife interrupted me: "Have a heart! Armani is alive! Gianni Versace is died."
Now, I opened my eyes wide and staring at my wife : "Wow, all mixed up! Sorry, Giorgio, you will live a long time!"
The book is a long time collecting dust on a bookshelf.
News about the death of the famous couturier reminded me about this album.
Photos in the album were wonderful, but the book did not say anything about what happened.
Looking at photos, I realized that they no longer reflect the true state of affairs.
My inflamed imagination painted other images.
Something had to be taken. I have decided to remedy this situation.
If the book is illustrated life of the Master, then sudden destruction of the integrity of the book would be an act of illustrating the death of the Master. At the same time, book illustrations were to survive, mutate. In the new form they would have to display a symbiosis of Death and Memory.
Possessed by this idea, I picked up a pair of scissors ....
When everything was finished, I proudly showed work to my wife.
She stared in horror at the mutilated book.
I began to share with her by my thoughts on the death of the Master and the idea of my project.
My wife interrupted me: "Have a heart! Armani is alive! Gianni Versace is died."
Now, I opened my eyes wide and staring at my wife : "Wow, all mixed up! Sorry, Giorgio, you will live a long time!"





