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The Native Americans, in their immense wisdom, said that their mother was the earth and their father the Great Spirit, so yes, I love my mother the earth, fertile and nourishing, I love the ephemeral design of clouds that travel on the air, I love the trunks of trees, wise and strong, where the silent story of their history is drawn, I love the flowing water, I love the genius and the work of man who dreams, who searches, who surpasses himself, who invents and who builds, but what I love above all are the vibrations that transcend us, the miraculous balance of lines, shapes, colors, whites, blacks, the sweet harmony of music, of notes or silences that come to life in resonance with one another and that leave us to dream of another truth…