“Homicide”  “Homicide” is the nineteenth story of the volume “The man to mistook his wife for a hat”. The story is about a man who murdered his partner but had no recall of what he had done. The details of the murder were particularly macabre, they had not been made public and all efforts made to “free” the murderer’s memories were fruitless. In a psychiatric hospital he was found to be a calm, self-controlled person. While out on leave he had a car accident and suffered vast haematomas on his skull and he fell into a coma. Waking from the coma and returning to normal physical conditions were accompanied by a series of dreadful nightmares because reawakening his mind had also restored the memory of the murder committed many years before. Twice the man tried to commit suicide then he was treated with strong doses of tranquillisers and kept in hospital by force until he regained his serenity with pharmacological treatments and psychiatric help. What is most striking is the absolute truthfulness and hyper-reality of his nightmares and the unresolved emotional tempest that overcame him, to the point that each time he collapsed physically and psychically. He did not dream his crime again he re-lived it, he committed it again as if time had preserved the adrenaline rush intact. I shot this photograph in two moments. I had the idea of the man’s memory kept as a sin, a crime, something he abhors. Obviously, each one of us prefers to forget the worst of ourselves and we generally succeed. But what if this option were not possible? What if we were forced by an uncompromising superego to retain the whole truth of our actions, and memory, acting independently, were to bring good and evil to the surface at will? I first photographed one of the confessionals in the Basilica della Salute in Venice underexposed at 1/3 I then superimposed the image of a lagoon marker piling which was corroded and split thinking of how many unspeakable things are spoken in a confessional. It is like a huge black hole that can absorb all the pain of the world. What would our reaction be if the confessional conserved instead of destroying all the evil, all the pain that it contained.