The memory of what are one’s origins, the story that led me to be the man I am today, has long been my obsession. Every day I observe and notice that my history and that of my people, is slowly fading away, becoming more and more indistinct and faded. I fear that in a few years, what have been centuries of history and traditions, could transform into a folkloristic mask and nothing more. In this context, aware that I cannot stop the process, I try to freeze what remains with the hope of being able to pass on our essence. – Passing on pieces of history, “disused” realities but always and fortunately linked to people, facts, events, that make “history”. The concrete and vital one. You have chosen to keep track of it! – (cit Nicola L). Thus I began my research among the ancient crafts. I went down among the people who continue to build “baskets” of rods and cane, among the people who repair fishing nets with trembling hands. Among those who push the wheel of a lathe barefoot. People who have no children to whom they can entrust their history. This spin-off represents only a small part of the project that has impermanence as its common thread. Impermanence of memory, impermanence of facts or people. Impermanence experienced by the protagonists with consciousness and awareness. I spoke at length with them and each of them wanted to make me part of the memories of their lives. A life often made of suffering and sacrifices but always lived and told with dignity. I dedicate my work to these people and to their dignity.