« 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. »
Guardando indietro a questa strana estate della memoria
riscopro con una punta di sorpresa
un’intera collezione d’istantanee di luce e acqua,
albe e tramonti, in riva al mare.
Ed è così allora che me la voglio ricordare.
Dolce sera, cari amici
Looking back upon this odd summer of mine
with a pinch of surprise I have found
a whole set of snapshots of light and water,
dawns and sunsets, by the sea.
I’ll remember it like that then.
« Not all that wander are lost » J.R.R. Tolkien
Venice by night, from above, is a spot in the sea you can barely tell from the sky / it’s a bus crossing a sad plane / pouring rain / sea smell / heart beating faster / eyes stuck to the side window / half-deserted steamboats / a city that appears and disappears / lingering / appealing.
It’s walking on rainy alleys / turning back / going forth / laughing out loud ’cause you’re lost again.
It’s a velvet curtain leading to yellow-earth walls / merry familiar tones that mend your heart / steaming dishes / toasts and joy.
Dozing Venice lets itself be sweetly tasted / silently walked through. It’s the echo of your footsteps / water splashing / the wind on your face / lights sparkling on the other side. It’s a swinging bed / sleep falling over you as if you were a child.
Venice in the early morning is grabbing something to put on and rushing outside. It’s the sea smell / church bells somewhere / wind / clouds rushing by.
It’s your eyes full of wonder / water and sky / sky and water / all around you. It’s walking leisurely / smelling the air / deserted alleys.
It’s crossing a threshold and entering a different dimension / eyes open / lights / shadows / what you feel you don’t need to understand.
Venice is the new and the old / up and down / bridges to cross / water to bless you. It’s an uninterrupted wonder of light and colors.
Venice is this and a thousand things more.
the weather was not our friend this time. We had to adjust most of our outdoor plans and cancel a special, long-expected encounter because of the rain. But, one walk in the city center and you’re forgiven. How beautiful you are, my hometown. How much I miss you. You keep a piece of my heart whenever I leave.
Farewell to this summer
It’s not often, that’s the least one can say.
But for this very reason, when it does happen to spot a perfect blue sky up above our heads, what a joy, what a surprise!
Then the oh so familiar rooftops and buildings suddenly shine differently. And in no time we, poor Southeners stranded in this usually (beautiful but) so grey city, dash outside to enjoy the sun; we gather in the parcs and along the river banks, kicking off our shoes and rolling up our sleaves as if in the middle of summer.
And while we are there, our heads turned upwards and our eyes closed, soaking every bit of warmth in because we know so well that it won’t last forever, each time we find ourselves sighing: Paris is such a beautiful city after all…
Tiny citydweller happiness recipe
A sunny Sunday where spring is calling you, jump in your car or onto your bike with a mission to escape the city life. Of course you’ll need finding the right place, the one where greenery is still allowed, on purpose or by chance, to thrive on its own. It may take a while, so be patient. It may be that big parc on the other side of the city. Or that tiny patch of grass just around your corner which you had never noticed before. Trust your instinct and you’ll find it.
Once you’re on the right track, you must seek the most offbeat paths and make yourself tiny, almost invisible. If you have small children, ask for their guidance and they’ll be thrilled to introduce you to this secret world to which they belong. Then you’ll enter a parallel reality bursting with life that blossoms, sprouts, weaves and silently chews away while people rush by unaware, so busy with their very important tasks. They will not see that spring is slowly coming over. Nor be surprised to spot green leaves on a dry branch or a couple tiny flowers making their way out of dead leaves or seeds answering who knows what secret morse code and starting to sprout on the paveway. They might pass just a few inches away and not marvel at this miracle, but you will. And it needn’t be Thailand or Peru or the Arizona desert. You don’t need to go far to get lost and find yourself all of a sudden feeling connected to a bigger dimension that breathes in and out and creates a thousand forms of life out of death, in a relentless, constant transformation. It »s no big deal really, still it will make you feel alive. Maybe you’ll feel like putting words on it or you’ll keep silent – ’cause there isn’t much to say anyway – and just smile, like people who’ve just shared a tiny big secret and a moment of pure happiness.
Wishing you many of these moments, friends!