There is a ladder, and then another ladder, and then a diving board. At the pool, everyone knows who is at the top.
Bagni di rango — roughly, bathing in rank — is about the social climb that follows us even on holiday. Some dive. Some are already in the water, though you can’t quite tell whether they arrived or fell. And some just watch, stretched out on the tiles, waiting for their turn or pretending they never wanted one.
What I like about a swimming pool is that it confiscates all the usual signals. No handbags, no cars, no clothes. Rank has to be performed with the body — and the body in a swimsuit is the least controllable thing there is.
The title is painted on the diving board itself, like the sign of a bathing establishment. So the woman standing up there, about to jump, is standing on the name of the place.
Black ink on paper, drawn in one go, in the summer heat.
With your artwork or scarf, you will receive a paper certificate proving the authenticity of the artwork/foulard.
Whether it is a limited edition print or a limited edition scarf, you will receive the exact numbering.
Details of the year in which the artwork/scarf was made, the material used, the size, title, date and signature will complete the certificate.
My signature will attest to the authenticity of the product.
With your artwork or scarf, you will receive a paper certificate proving the authenticity of the artwork/foulard.
Whether it is a limited edition print or a limited edition scarf, you will receive the exact numbering.
Details of the year in which the artwork/scarf was made, the material used, the size, title, date and signature will complete the certificate.
My signature will attest to the authenticity of the product.
Choose the Paypal payment option, access your account and choose the “Buy now and pay later with
Pay in 3″ option if available.
There is a ladder, and then another ladder, and then a diving board. At the pool, everyone knows who is at the top.
Bagni di rango — roughly, bathing in rank — is about the social climb that follows us even on holiday. Some dive. Some are already in the water, though you can’t quite tell whether they arrived or fell. And some just watch, stretched out on the tiles, waiting for their turn or pretending they never wanted one.
What I like about a swimming pool is that it confiscates all the usual signals. No handbags, no cars, no clothes. Rank has to be performed with the body — and the body in a swimsuit is the least controllable thing there is.
The title is painted on the diving board itself, like the sign of a bathing establishment. So the woman standing up there, about to jump, is standing on the name of the place.
Black ink on paper, drawn in one go, in the summer heat.
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