Time exists but it is not known where it begins or ends, it is a nuance of memory... What could be the meaning of this writing, thus written in the wind? An evocative value, first of all. Writing that suggests, that provides clues and ideas, fragments of highly personal truths that become universal if distributed within a historical-sensory frame... In "Voice Windows" Ghirardi offers us a glimpse of life, of thought... We are taken from one scene to another, as if in a company of street actors, impatient and mocking, with no inclination to wait. As if by a bizarre shift of time coordinates, we find ourselves discussing the writer's trade... In Ghirardi's texts everything is linked, as if by secret alchemy. And for some reason you get the feeling that everything happening at any given time is simply the summary of the preceding words. As in Baroque alchemy, we see that elements, things, take shape. And move... And Ghirardi's poetry is one in constant movement. Nothing has a fixed destiny or a final predestination. Things change, things shift. As does his language, perfectly consonant with the precarious nature of objects. A mobile, zigzagging language.