As an emigrant, I’ve always had a good relationship my houses. Indeed, more with the houses than with the places outside them. The house, for me, is a place to refuge but also a place to dwell, immersed in beautiful idleness between readings and visions, in the affection and softness of cats. It is the place of interiority in which to stay, immersed in beautiful things that generate emotions and nourish the eyes and the heart. A place from where to go out for work and pleasure, to immerse myself in other places not only physically but, above all, mental and spiritual. However, not for everyone the house has this significance. It is often a dormitory, a place of transit instead of staying, almost a non-place. A prison and not a welcoming den. Modern houses are small, designed for restricted small family units and loneliness. The quarantine has closed doors, ports, borders. The house has become a safe place, an impregnable fortress not from the outside but from the inside. The streets have suddenly become deserted and silent. People were no longer there. Every now and then you could catch a glimpse of some fleeting silhouette behind some window. What were they doing in there every day? How were they? Who were they? What did they want? The three photographs refer to three different installations with ready-mades and objects from the series "Janas", which consists of 90 works, entirely conceived and realized during the quarantine period in an attempt to repopulate the world suddenly made deserted by the arrival of the virus.  The cans of fish have therefore become dwellings, closed and at the same time open to the eyes of observers as new windows on a world of possibilities, where the characters with the help of objects not only act out scenes but they are objective correlatives of feelings, emotions and expectations matured during the quarantine made necessary by the pandemic.