It is impossible to know who you are, even less so your soul. But a good sailor recognizes himself when he is in the middle of the storm, because for him, unlike us saints, the only mystery remains the sea itself. This is where the research of Saint Mariner starts: we are all saints but we are all mariners. Or rather, we can all also be mariners. Because we feel ourselves living other people’s lives, incompletely, as if our being participated in all men’s being, incompletely.
So Saint Mariner travels in time, in the soul of the fleeting moment, without fear.
He has no taste, because taste is repetition, he always to discover new paths, he does not repeat himself. This no, never.
Saint Mariner is unpredictable, he plays, with discrete awareness, with the desires of men, without them sometimes knowing it.
Saint Mariner ha no class, but he makes the difference, because he illuminates the others’s fantasies.
Saint Mariner is where everything can be, where everything is probable, where the others do not find aesthetic answers.
He feeds himself with the incomplete.