Following the Covid 19 outbreak, Europe had just reopened its borders. Things were strange, sometimes eerily quiet, sometimes bustling with excitement. Our soundtrack was the wind, blowing through the car windows - the blasting songs of Lucio Battisti; Ancora Tu, Sentir Amor.

We had a broken camera lens, but the moment was perfect and we were not turning back. COVID-19 had put the world face to face with itself, everyone had begun asking themselves questions. Something about having a forced new perspective felt appropriate.

We took a ferry, making stops in the small islands by Sicily, a transport to a different place and time. Some come in search of peace, nature, quiet. Others, the young and beautiful, looking for another kind of good time. We landed at our destination of Ginostra, a breathing behemoth of a volcano that has been active for millennia. The feeling was overwhelming.

Those generations hundreds, thousands of years ago who first sailed the same Seas. Maybe they were also in search of something. It’s hard to put yourself in their shoes, but maybe they felt the same yearning for adventure, a new home, a new life, or maybe just sailing for the pleasure of the open sea.

All this needed to be documented, and the result of the broken lens, was better than imagined. The images looked like they had been plucked straight from memory, as if capturing the feeling of the moment rather than just the imagery.

The temporality of the result was “timelessness”. A beautiful thing, tying all moments from the past and present together.

When I watched these films afterwards, I felt good. I still feel the feeling of feeling good, I can almost remember the smell of the saltwater drying on my skin and the laughter of friends.

It would be smooth sailing from here on. This is what Inversa is, at its core. A drive to the coast, wanderlust. A first aperitivo after a day at the beach. The laughter of friends, the magic of nature, the stop at perfect days.

Made in Italy. With Friends.