The title—Il tetto si è bruciato ora posso vedere la luna (“The roof has burned down, now I can see the moon”)—borrows from a Zen proverb, reframing loss as sudden clarity. In Zuffanti’s vision, devastation is not an end but an aperture. The scorched texture of volcanic ash and sand evokes the collapse of shelter, while golden light and deep blues suggest a revelation born from ruin. At the edge of destruction, the cosmos peers in—silent, watching, offering something previously hidden. It is both a wound and a window.