Look at it moving in its natural shrine. Shake it lightly, look at it again, taste it, and a captivating red with a deep aroma asking you not to stop will tint your passion, and in a moment, you will lose yourself and let go. It is the Italian red, strong and sweet, in love with your palate and loves giving you the idea that it is no longer there. Let’s go home and don’t worry, Aptitude will drive you there.
Femininity expands, assumes elongated agile, and athletic forms, smooth enough to shine, feather light.The déco woman comes from long back. She has wild styles from old Africa, and expands her beauty evoking Aztec art and Egyptian depiction. She blends with nature, with flowing water, and the foliage.They seem to issue forth from the scenic imagination and the almost unreal costumes made by Léon Bakst for Diaghilev’s Russian ballets. They are crystalline forms born from sunrays; the arms and the long legs seem like pinnacles or decorations on same style palaces. Aptitude has chosen nature to describe them; nature with its illogical confusion that has the logic of being, the Beauty of the body, a lock of hair, bare breasts, eyes looking up into the sky.Déco is a long series of notes that seem to accompany the models of Aptitude to the tune of jazz.Suddenly you discover that your muse is a simple figure, assumes life all on her own and evolves naturally like in photosynthesis, assuming the figure of a flower or the long leaves of a wild plant.The curves become vast, the arms and legs stretch out, seeking life. Paris, New York, Rome, Los Angeles, she is a citizen of the world, she immerging with her style almost melting in, hiding herself and disappearing in the bigger picture. But Aptitude is there, and I’m here to capture the moment, the instant that leads my woman to become Jazz…Written by Maurizio Catalani
We are made of water, it is inside us and it is right to be with it. Moving inside our body lets us live our time. So lets dive in, and play with a part of ourselves, let it embrace you, touch you rock you gently; it is no ordinary water. For that water we flew in the sky immersed with them in the Maldives azure.
Think you’ll find them again. They’re timeless. Do you remember them? And do you remember her going down that long staircase as if her hips moving could displace the white marble steps under her feet? They are that kind of beauty that is ageless and only a picture can freeze, a postcard full of memories that seems mailed tomorrow.It isn’t easy to grasp her today thnking that you will be seing it again in thirty or fifty years. You only need to find the right one, the right ones, the ones who have the strength to stop the days and make one endless. They’re the faces of nostalgia also because beauty, you know… will it mother forever. Photography with its light writes them down in time, they seem born already dusted in an old attic.I looked for them in the streets of New York, L.A., Miami. Aptitude devours miles and miles trying to live with you the sweet taste of feminine beauty; finding it at the end it gives you its endless dreams coming from a thousand ageless faces.Their faces are made up like paintings, lips telling yesterday desires that seem born today, hair outlined by a colorless pencil, eyes sought forever and ever.Is this only nostalgia? Maybe it’s also desire. Don’t ponder, it is!Written by Maurizio Catalani