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Why Francesca Torzo grabs her face for the perfect tile

The day has only 24 hours, an eternal curse, time is running out. Francesca Torzo sits in her study in an old residential and office building high up in the hills of Genoa, in the Castelletto district. Behind her, scraped walls, darkened with filler and colorless oil, like an angular cave. From the window she looks out over the Ligurian Sea, ships on the water, the glistening sun on the horizon. “I could look out there forever, this look gives me strength and passion,” she says. “But there is way too much to work and the day is so short anyway.” Three short cigarette puffs, a thoughtful look, on we go.

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