The first of the glass curtain panels in my kitchen is starting to have texture. Working one stitch after another, crossing crochet and thread, giving shape to an image drawn on paper with patience stitch after stitch, makes me think of the beauty of life in its patient and laborious waiting. Every obstacle becomes an invitation, every drawing that takes shape becomes the naïve and … Continua a leggere Every Single Step

Your life can appear black and white, a flight of wings that gets lost in the tired night or the flight of a swallow that welcomes your spirit in the clear sky where it supports you. White and black like the smile hidden in a tearful tear or like the one that seeks and finds in joy the love you have received and that you … Continua a leggere Black and White

While it is dawning outside, I am here, protected by my window, observing the colors of the changing sky and listening to the singing of the birds that, upon awakening already full of life, flutter in search of food happy with the breath of their freedom.I remain motionless looking at them and following their happy and searching flight with my eyes, we are no different. … Continua a leggere Flying

Every life hangs by a thread, some a little more.Over time, giving a lot of value to life and its essence, I realized that that thread, in itself, counts more than life itself, which is like the umbilical cord that holds the baby tied to its mother’s womb and that, once severed, it will no longer draw its lifeblood and sustenance from it.It is a … Continua a leggere Hanging on a Thread

It is an unequal struggle.Unequal is the fight against an evil whose medicines help destroy your body.I find myself with a myself overthrown by itself, with energies that are thinning as the pains increase, with a body hollowed out and emptied of what “was useless” to fight an equally useless evil, with a stronger imprisonment because it is prevented by that. myself who no longer … Continua a leggere I Need…

Feeling, being and wanting to be invisible.Looking in the mirror and not recognizing yourself, perceiving that your own voice has become more silent, noticing that even the body is no longer the same and does not respond in the same way to stimuli as always.What remains? The spirit.What is the outward gaze of the spirit?The love.What is the symbol that love uses in its resistance?The … Continua a leggere Invisible

The disease is disorienting.It also confuses your own space of resistance because, often, you don’t have the energy to resist and the few that remain must be used to survive.What happens, then, when in your life “surviving” has never been the point of your being? When have you always made a difference between living and surviving as between living and just existing?It happens that your … Continua a leggere “Giulia” an Unheard Voice

There is a lament on the Earth that no one seems to want to hear. Everyone knows of its existence and they are aware of it, but few do their utmost to ensure that lament to cease and stop marking the worst of our failed humanity.It is the lament of injustices, exploitation, of the oppressed.A lament made stone-like, powerful and immutable, yet so fragile in … Continua a leggere A Moan on the Earth

Late last night, there was a strong earthquake in Bosnia felt throughout the Adriatic coast and also in Naples.The earthquake, the terrible devastator that in silence pierces hearts and memories.For those who have lived it and live it as an almost dayly presence, I think of my area of ​​Campi Flegrei always subjected to seismic tremors due to bradysm, what strikes the most of the … Continua a leggere Earthquake

I dare to insert myself in Dalì’s work, The persistence of memory, a little for fun, a little because the liquefaction of obvious time makes me think exactly about my current condition. Nothing is taken for granted and only inner time can restore meaning to living and existing. While chronological time flows and tells its story, my inner time has a different beat and a … Continua a leggere Forever