Yesterday I went to see Riccardo. I knew that I would have found him in his garage. I called him while I was still standing outside, just a second before going in, like I always do. He was winding a pendulum clock he had fixed himself. I came to find him to let him know about my new book. I explain to him that I called it “must”. He’s in it too. I drew him from a picture I took last summer.
Must. Like that slime made out of peels and juice, something thick and murky, that will turn into wine. It will turn into wine, but isn’t yet. The caskets need to be prepared properly. They need to be washed carefully. They have to be put away in a place with a precise temperature. Wait for the fermentation process. At least for two years. Patience is crucial.