The time that passes is not only historical memory, but the memory of the most hidden being that is inside each of us.Memory, that is, like time, is not constituted only by the events that occur, but also (and perhaps even more) by the emotions that are expressed or are tamed as well as by the consequences and reactions that, before or after being accomplished, … Continua a leggere When Time Writes…
The tenderness of the infinitely small, a tenderness that saves. Since I was a girl I have always had a dog to accompany me along the often difficult path of a life that gave the feeling of having come into the world just to resist.I also had a cat, but old age and illnesses have gradually taken them away from me without taking away from … Continua a leggere Pets
There are gaps that nothing can fill. There are absences that mark the emptiness of presence. There are gaps made well before they were made.It is a mystery, perhaps, or perhaps it is the simple truth and a very simple truth.Sometimes it is expected, or hoped, that personal truths can meet and be shared, but often this is not the case, it depends on the … Continua a leggere Free to Go Further
There is always an emptiness that follows a fullness.Filling the void is not easy, since it is not a matter of merely replacing one thing with another, but of finding links between things that unfold and stop as if they were stages that represent ports along the same route.This link, more than a link, this bond, is life itself, I believe.A life that does not … Continua a leggere Empty and Full
I have always loved literature, even before I knew it was literature, that there was a story beyond the narrated, rhetorical figures, language and languages in continuous evolution.I loved it and I love it because literature is actually a bridge which, although it does not bridge the distances, makes them closer and more understandable.I have always looked for the voice and voices in literature and … Continua a leggere Literature
And we grow, we go on.The anxieties do not dissolve but change. Over time, the goal is getting closer as far as it may seem and it has changed too.And we get up, even when we know that the test is not over and that it will not end. We get up to give dignity to our suffering and justice to fidelity to the sense … Continua a leggere And We Grow Up
Merit. What is the merit? This is the first question. Are there the conditions for everyone to have the resources that allow them to achieve “merit”? This is the second and most important question. Finally, who deserves the credit? Here only the conscience can understand and discern.I taught for 28 years, not counting those in which I did it for the children of the most … Continua a leggere Merit
There is a sense in everything, even in oblivion.The oblivion of those who suffer, I mean, and which is not caused by those who suffer from it, but by the indifference of those who, out of fear, refuse to connect with the reality of the other’s life.Yet, this too makes sense, albeit negative, and says many things about people without uttering any. C’è un senso … Continua a leggere Oblivion
The dimension of time is changeable and depends on who lives it.I look around and see many people rooted in the present, many in the past, others who, skipping these two steps, move into the future.I, on the other hand, is as if I did not have time in the dimension of my being.It is as if for me only the inner time counts, without … Continua a leggere As Inconsistent As Time
“Il sole sorgerà ancora” (ed. Clandestine, 2021) è il primo romanzo di Ernest Hemingway e fu pubblicato nel 1926. Più comunemente è conosciuto come “Fiesta” dal titolo che gli fu attribuito dalla prima pubblicazione in Inghilterra e in riferimento alla corrida cui i protagonisti del romanzo assistono a Pamplona, Spagna.È la storia di un gruppo di giovani che, al termine della I guerra mondiale, si … Continua a leggere Ernest Hemingway: Il sole sorgerà ancora
Writing Is Testifying 