While it’s snowing I crossed a bridge one hundred times.

This was a one hour and fifteen minute performance filmed by a fixed camera. It took place on a 60-meter bridge in the middle of nothing, over a river, in the Italian Alps, far from every town, on a road closed in the winter season.

The action was repeated as a mantra or a rosary; a prayer to nature.

While I repeat the action, my perceptions of the nature around (water, wind, snow, the forest over the bridge, the bridge itself) have changed. I have become nature, I have become a river, I have become the bridge itself.

Is the bridge also a metaphor? Yes, surely! I thought about crossing bridges as human practice, but also artistic practice.