london calling

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blue

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***

One of those summer nights that seem never to come to an end.

When you stay out late,

your hair still wet,

chasing every bit of light,

while the sky and the sea turn every shade of blue.

 

roman holidays

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***

a haze of hot days spent seeking the coolest spots at the sound of cicadas.

anaps of laughters and diving

pic-nics with friends,

hands picking wild berries,

ice creams dripping and mozzarella bubbling on our pizzas.

and bridges, many bridges crossed of course,

 

before the storm

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***

A summer afternoon in Fregene

before the storm.

The empy beach,

sand swirling around,

seagulls playing up above.

Our picnic plans messed out

but what we found was just as good

 

by the lake

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***

The first day of holidays.

That sweet feeling of coming home and old time friends

And the light,  Rome’s unique light!

It’s sweet to come back sometimes.

towards the light

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***

Seeking shelter on a rainy afternoon,

I ended up in an unexpected parallel dimension,

warm and humid,

where silence reigned and time seemed to have stopped.

 

No birds or animal sounds.

No wind among the leaves.

Just the sound of water hissing from somewhere.

 

And within this silence,

one could almost feel all these green creatures,

big and small, breathe and grow.

Each one in its own particular way.

 

But all turned towards the light.

 

all around

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a 7-hour car trip

7 days spent in another dimension

green and blue

blue and green

blooming allmighty nature

all around us

as far as the eye can see

ROMA

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***

Rome is a light that you’d recognize anywhere.

A technicolor sky, reflections on the river and birds flying up above.

It’s the great beauty, flowered balconies, crowded restaurants and open bars.

A traffic mess, cars anywhere, dirty streets, messy public services.

It’s a never-ending vacation, a mellow and joyful decadence.

Rome equals time slowing down.

And finding yourself  by the river over and over, catching a different sunset each time.

fluctuat nec mergitur

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***

Going back to this square, tiptoeing. So many people, flowers, candels. Flashes and cameras everywhere as in a morbid reality show. Being tempted to back away. Finding strenght and holding one’s hand to thread sidewalks that have long been familiar and friendly. In summertime, wintertime. Alone, with friends. Eyes wide open. To not let anything go unseen. Making myself go back once, twice, three, four times until the fear is under control. Covered in new laughters and memories.

Because Life is so beautiful still. And there is still so much so see and live and cherish. Because Life isn’t shorter or more fragile today than it was before. It was and still is one blink of the eye. There are no more or less questions, or certainties. Except that there is Light and there are shadows. We only have the power to use our freedom to look for the Light even in the darkest hour. And to carry it forward.

Peace out, friends.

october

« Si tu fais des images, ne parle pas, n’écris pas, ne t’analyse pas, ne réponds à aucun questionnaire. Ne piétine pas les jardins secrets. Suggérer c’est créer : décrire c’est détruire. »
Robert Doisneau

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