BAROQUE WOODOO We die only once, and for such a long time! Molière Different images transcending time arise and make fun of death. Shut up in this place, I was invited to a mid-seventeenth century feast. In the meantime, I saw a voodoo ritual from the heart of Africa. If I had stayed for a long time, I would have turned death into the scratch of a ferocious animal. I heard the crying of what the present time is missing, instead. During this macabre ritual of mourning, I blessed every form of transformation as if they were ashes falling to the ground.