tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23194054052977613212024-02-07T16:02:47.804-08:00I'm a boogie soul. Il faut être légère comme une plume, pas comme un oiseau. (Paul Valery)wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-89024810941601695022018-02-01T01:35:00.000-08:002018-02-01T01:46:36.946-08:00♡●L'ULTIMA CARIATIDE●♡<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvs85DsrJv47216rZPb44QRMBEhN4y88mbisVqybZuapj5Jt38rtYW_jHn-zPyiEVZ6-ndF6ZXclfy3XTlv_scFe34g_y2m-82zxx0LjQvjIW81ia0p11QK58aKvFv6JxjLxpyhrLJj0s/s1600/P_20180201_101912_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1493" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvs85DsrJv47216rZPb44QRMBEhN4y88mbisVqybZuapj5Jt38rtYW_jHn-zPyiEVZ6-ndF6ZXclfy3XTlv_scFe34g_y2m-82zxx0LjQvjIW81ia0p11QK58aKvFv6JxjLxpyhrLJj0s/s400/P_20180201_101912_1.jpg" width="371" /></a></div>
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E così il 16 gennaio la mia ultima nonna se n'è andata. La nonna che mi raccontava le favole, che mi grattava la schiena prima di addormentarmi, che mi criticava per i miei capelli rosa, verdi e blu. La nonna che ha vissuto quasi un secolo, il legante tra il XX ed il XXI secolo. La nonna battagliera cresciuta senza un papà, vissuta tra Firenze, Milano e Roma. La nonna tutto fare che mi ha insegnato a lavorare a maglia che mi portava nei musei con mio nonno. La nonna che mi faceva gli scherzi e anche quando mi ha lasciata è stata capace di farmi vivere una situazione tragicomica. Io sull'aereo per andare a Perleberg, vicino Berlino, titubante se andare o meno perché sentivo qualcosa nell'aria. L'aereo sta per partire, sto per spegnere il telefono e leggo il messaggio di mio padre. Rimango a bocca aperta e l'istinto mi fa alzare e dire all'hostess che devo scendere perché c'è stato un lutto in famiglia. Lei mi abbraccia e le lacrime iniziano. Scendo al volo dall'aereo prendo il bus e finalmente arrivo a casa. Che sensazione di vuoto, era lì sul letto distesa il volto non era sereno, stanco per tutto quello che ha visto e il dolore degli ultimi giorni. La mia nonna!Non potrò mai dimenticare le sue carezze e adesso non possiamo fare altro che ricordarla per la sua essenza e per quello che è stata capace di trasmettere. TI VOGLIO BENE e spero che se esiste un altro regno tu possa rincontrare tutte le persone che ti sono mancate in vita e trovare un mondo diverso da questo. Grazie nonna!</div>
<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-20788093360761503182018-01-09T08:46:00.000-08:002018-01-09T08:49:59.059-08:00★MY ROOTS_part.III★<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXSGHTNZYLZkkN4mdHiMmwwYnZepu1fM82JWkVwqBN2a-ISnzB_a9OuGD_6Jc-w2k3gGRfcuQlMq0U8N6MIUNjkMUi2eaeTx51rN-IkOu2hyPnhmqMpOscndexZB0uzCuhxBjoEoFBcA/s1600/P_20180109_092352_1_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXSGHTNZYLZkkN4mdHiMmwwYnZepu1fM82JWkVwqBN2a-ISnzB_a9OuGD_6Jc-w2k3gGRfcuQlMq0U8N6MIUNjkMUi2eaeTx51rN-IkOu2hyPnhmqMpOscndexZB0uzCuhxBjoEoFBcA/s400/P_20180109_092352_1_1.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Cerco di passare almeno un giorno a settimana con la mia nonna. Ogni giorno è prezioso per mettere insieme i pezzi di questo puzzle che rappresenta le mie radici. Ieri per distrarla un po' le ho chiesto di nuovo di raccontarmi come si conobbero i bisnonni. Sì perché c'era una parte mancante che finalmente ho capito. Tutto è nato con un incidente, un vero incidente. Un signore investe un altro signore che è il mio bisnonno. E così i due si conoscono. Il conducente va a trovare il mio bisnonno per sapere come sta (certo che erano davvero altri tempi!) e cosi s'innamora della zia Anna che doveva essere la sorella del mio bisnonno che a sua volta conoscerà una parente del conducente che sarà la mia bisnonna da poco trasferitasi a Firenze dalla Lucania. Insomma se quella macchina non fosse passata lì e il mio bisnonno non avesse attraversato in quel momento la strada, io non sarei io. Quante storie. Mi piace ascoltare le storie degli altr@ e soprattutto sapere come si sono conosciuti@, dove erano, perché lì e non là. C'è sempre un incastro in qualsiasi relazioni, qualsiasi cosa accada!Questo è ciò che mi affascina di questa vita.</div>
<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-4679028562577678672018-01-05T01:31:00.000-08:002018-01-05T01:38:41.926-08:00★MY ROOTS_[MY GRANDMA ALBERTINA] part.II★<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib0c6t92yo1ae5jpLqg_MWqCtEHiuRSEEw4a9QDRqElrdJhGvJ8DX17emvFgRIr4RSIWnMxba1w45PU7jqBAQJE6z0FaCv210PWZtxaN5hZcfAX0rdXThWU25EYX-QRsWWS0H1PcdYB_Y/s1600/P_20180105_095659_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib0c6t92yo1ae5jpLqg_MWqCtEHiuRSEEw4a9QDRqElrdJhGvJ8DX17emvFgRIr4RSIWnMxba1w45PU7jqBAQJE6z0FaCv210PWZtxaN5hZcfAX0rdXThWU25EYX-QRsWWS0H1PcdYB_Y/s400/P_20180105_095659_1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Sono stata fortunata perché sono riuscita a conoscere le rispettive nonne e i rispettivi nonni dei miei genitori. Sì credo sia stata proprio una fortuna, sarebbe stato ancora più bello se avessi potuto avere un microchip conficcato nella testa per registrare tutto quello che mi è stato raccontato. Comunque la memoria ancora non mi sta abbandonando e così cercherò di tramandare le storie dei miei avi. Nonna Albertina è Alta bionda con gli occhi azzurri. Era bellissima da giovane insomma quelle donne d'altri tempi, vestite d'altri tempi, ma comunque una donna che a suo modo, per quanto potevo permetterglielo la società, è stata in grado di far valere i suoi diritti. È una lavoratrice. Per tutta la vita finché non è andata in pensione ha lavorato per quello che era il vecchio ufficio INPS che si trovava vicino Porta Pia, credibile adesso ci sia un'occupazione o almeno prima. Il palazzo dove c'è il cinema. Io mi ricordo quando i miei mi lasciavano a Roma e con nonna prendevamo prima il 19 (per chi non lo sapesse è il tram che attraversa tutta Roma da Nord a Sud partendo da Piazza Risorgimento fino ad arrivare a Piazza dei Gerani) e poi il 490. Sul 19 c'era ancora il controllore seduto dietro e io ci giocavo semrpe c'erano ancora quei biglietti di carta dura tipo cartoncino. Insomma con la nonna si andava in ufficio e io come solito o diaegnavo o cincischiavo tra i cassetti, mi è sempre piaciuto aprire cassetti e vedere cosa ci fosse, la mia passione!Mia nonna ha tirato su due figli, mia mamma Daniela [una grande artista e ceramista] e zio Giorgio [un grande architetto nonché un disegnatore spettacolare]. Non era sola a crescere i suoi figli c'era mio nonno è tutta la banda della famiglia praticamente vivevano quasi in dieci credo e pensare che ora di tutte quelle persone è rimasta solo la mia nonna e per la prima volta sola dopo una vita passata tra chiacchiericci, tra chi cuciva, chi cucinava cercando di mantenere un legame con quel passato che inziava nel sud del caro stivale. A mia nonna piacciono le rose, piace andare al cinema [con lei per la prima volta sono stata in una sala cinematografica e ho visto E.T. avevo sei anni miticoooo], piace camminare, piace viaggiare, piace vestirsi bene, piace truccarsi, le piacciono i dolci in particolare le creme di gelato. Quanti gelati abbiamo mangiato insieme e ancora ne mangia la mia dolcenonnabbina, a volte un po' rompiscatole, ma pur sempre un pezzo di me!</div>
wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-80168390898037906302018-01-03T02:08:00.001-08:002018-01-05T01:37:55.113-08:00★MY ROOTS_parte prima★<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_tRCmLmAUUt-bkUo0eRyuUqhnabE0Opn_t_aOihyphenhyphenrOveZ4kU8VypQgE2IiGBr_sqho8fTU9rXKtxNxhlCjFStdT3jKrLoxW_Sdk2JaTwGC9OKlSKs_kCxkLJoooQp5xV4n5xeCMNV8o/s1600/P_20180103_102852_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_tRCmLmAUUt-bkUo0eRyuUqhnabE0Opn_t_aOihyphenhyphenrOveZ4kU8VypQgE2IiGBr_sqho8fTU9rXKtxNxhlCjFStdT3jKrLoxW_Sdk2JaTwGC9OKlSKs_kCxkLJoooQp5xV4n5xeCMNV8o/s400/P_20180103_102852_1.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Sono sempre stata alla ricerca delle mie origini perché credo il passato sia importante per capire chi siamo. E la cosa più facile è ascoltare le proprie nonne, i propri nonni per chi è stat@ fortunat@ di conoscerl@. Io sono stata fortunata e per quel che ho potuto ho cercato di catturare i loro racconti vissuti nel secolo scorso, un secolo che sembra così lontano eppure è il secolo in cui io sono nata. LO SCORSO SECOLO! È impetuosa questa frase, mi piace quando la pronuncio, mi sento importante. Beh ecco quei nonni e quelle nonne, chi proveniente dal profondo sud per spostarsi nel profondo nord, chi proveniente da un paese arroccato a quasi 700 mt di altezza, insomma tutte queste persone con il loro sapere, i loro sbagli, le certezze e le incertezze rappresentano le mie radici della mia anima peregrina. Siamo come alberi e ogni albero possiede una radice che sia secca che sia viva comunque da conoscere perché solo così possiamo capire e raccontare la nostra storia, la mia storia. Migrare come quegli uccelli che passano da una parte all'altra del mondo questo sì che è viaggiare e farsi spazio e come una tabula rasa respirare il non sapere di quando ero bimba dove ogni cosa era possibile, almeno così sembrava!Quella curiosità non deve mai mancare e se dovesse accadere con i denti lotterò a costo della vita, perché nessun@ può toglierci la voglia di conoscere [...]e quando il bambino era bambino non faceva facce da fotografo[...]</div>
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<a href="https://youtu.be/o3Ccdy6qHN4">DER HIMMEL ÜBER BERLIN</a> [click here]<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yhagTUTjo8M">ROOTS OF MY HAIR by Coco Rosie</a> [click here]</div>
wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-5827234862112576532018-01-01T01:40:00.001-08:002018-01-05T01:38:05.043-08:00°●○◎°NESSUNA CENSURA°●○◎°<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ9MKTmcTNEfuePP_xpQZFg7vPR1hOIZGxnqlX2HdM3UIwq_GOVTixsKl85nVZQf0Y3nNT8JXxo3ZD1X36E4plnowk0H_nlSzsjd5VlWv3Z4Ai1InG5qCcVcNy5FwpE5_td80FoUvVVeQ/s1600/20180101_101920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ9MKTmcTNEfuePP_xpQZFg7vPR1hOIZGxnqlX2HdM3UIwq_GOVTixsKl85nVZQf0Y3nNT8JXxo3ZD1X36E4plnowk0H_nlSzsjd5VlWv3Z4Ai1InG5qCcVcNy5FwpE5_td80FoUvVVeQ/s400/20180101_101920.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Da quando nel lontano 2010 andai a Londra, di fatti ne sono accaduti, ma quello che avvenne dopo un mese che ero nella perfida Albione, cambiò la mia percezione dell'attaccamento alle cose, agli oggetti ed anche alle persone. Per carità nulla di grave in confronto alle violenze, alle guerre, ai massacri, ma comunque credo sia stata una prepotenza anche se ero stata avvertita. Insomma per farla breve il mio fantastico blog dove da anni scrivevo puuuufff cancellato e il fatto è che non avendo in quel momento storico della mia vita né tempo né connessione, arrivò un annuncio da splinder, il server dove era il mio blog, che mi avvertiva di spostarlo da un'altra parte perché stava chiudendo i battenti. Io non fui in grado di fare ques'operazione per i motivi detti e così il mio diario sparì in un batter d'occhio. Per fortuna grazie ai miei genitori che sempre seguono le mie vicissitudini, mio padre ebbe la brillante idea di stampare almeno la parte dedicata alla mia esperienza newyorchese. Successivamente aprii un altro blog senza pensare troppo a wordpress o blogger non so ero un po' delusa e così l'ho riaperto qui. Giusto o sbagliato non può essere reato!Vecchio slogan sempre all'avanguardia. Sì perché ci sono cose per cui vale sempre la pena lottare ed una di queste è il potere della parola che porta alla condivisione delle nostre anime, sempre ammesso che esistano!</div>
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Spero di ritrovare la costanza di un tempo nello scrivere questo blog. </div>
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Quello che so è che mi piace disegnare e scrivere e vorrei crederci ancor di più. </div>
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Thankz to everybody!</div>
<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-87835994861308338862017-12-31T03:20:00.002-08:002018-01-05T01:38:18.709-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5FLMsrneDu6_LuXQ2llB9Mxzds5fMIl4x7DOPZH7fPhtxwFADUPszwdq-HF2fUP44-bGZbmhcwo6hyphenhyphenlelJ8TS8DY5dBPsAEuQ6szYBjX6sGzdKSq09gI3Qe12M7cOZhq3ruKAcvL3BYA/s1600/P_20171027_125709.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5FLMsrneDu6_LuXQ2llB9Mxzds5fMIl4x7DOPZH7fPhtxwFADUPszwdq-HF2fUP44-bGZbmhcwo6hyphenhyphenlelJ8TS8DY5dBPsAEuQ6szYBjX6sGzdKSq09gI3Qe12M7cOZhq3ruKAcvL3BYA/s400/P_20171027_125709.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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★The contemporaryprimitive★</div>
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I'm going to explain what this CONTEMPORARYPRIMITIVE means for me.</div>
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Someone escaping from her/his/its village, a place where used to love, to work, to hate, to drink, to eat basically to live or to survive. She/he/it was forced to go away from there though sometimes has been thinking to escape but this time it wasn't her/his/its decision. That day the contemporaryprimitive took the most precious thing: the skulls of the family. Running for many days without a place to go the contemporaryprimitive decided to stop along a big tree. The first thing to do was buried the skulls the only memory of the past. Day by day the contemporaryprimitive started a new life, building a house on the branches. Year by year new people came. Always the same situation:force to escape from where they were born because of others that decided what was wrong or right. The primitivecontemporaries deleted some words from vocabulary. The first words to be cancelled were:</div>
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RACE</div>
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SEXISM</div>
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MILITARISM</div>
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RELIGION</div>
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They wanted stay in line with nature and respect her laws. They started to develop a sensitive power that allowed them to feel other primitivecontemporaries living far from there. Thanks to this power altogether decided to gather once a year in a big plenary assembly in the middle of the earth. Something has to change in this world. The most important thing was to share the experiences and improve the way to be.</div>
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P.S.</div>
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Movie tip:</div>
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<a href="https://vimeo.com/214163453">LA BELLE VERTE</a></div>
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<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-82190985928524683422017-06-17T01:28:00.002-07:002017-06-19T00:33:46.057-07:00LA COYOTA by INDIGNABEE for CRACK!fumetti dirompenti_festival of drawn and printed art_ 2017 This year the issue of CRACK!Fumetti dirompenti<br />
is LA COYOTA based on a graphic novel by Juliette Bensimon Marchina:<br />
LA CAIDA ET COYOTA<br />
On May I reached INDIGNADA JONES in France<br />
and together we worked on it.<br />
We built a puppet made by recycled things we found on the street,<br />
starting from an old blanket gave it to us from Salvuzzz our magicboysupporter.<br />
We fill it up with cotton that during those days it fell from the trees.<br />
La Coyota is a traveller.<br />
She goes through time,<br />
she can be heavy and light too..<br />
Her core is a tangle of love.<br />
After a long trip MADAME COYOTA<br />
will come out from an old yellow cardboard suitcase<br />
found in London.<br />
It was a house of an amazing mouse<br />
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MADAME COYOTA è rozza, grezza,<br />
ma impeccabile nel guardare in faccia la sua preda.<br />
Si distrare facilmente perché le piace giocare.<br />
E' una llorona, ma non importa le lacrime lubrificano l'anima.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhONrBzgkU3wEkZNYiqMD9By3oaipYr4JMG_2GC9SfDlo6rTwpJ7qaJYwodd_7eYKUVvpl76WbyRF0ImmvF0XzEDsdzvwEhjmIj97ZGhJIPqMAmDeKSi3RX0FQWajEJgwmHy9bigcHuYOs/s1600/P_20170526_170205+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhONrBzgkU3wEkZNYiqMD9By3oaipYr4JMG_2GC9SfDlo6rTwpJ7qaJYwodd_7eYKUVvpl76WbyRF0ImmvF0XzEDsdzvwEhjmIj97ZGhJIPqMAmDeKSi3RX0FQWajEJgwmHy9bigcHuYOs/s320/P_20170526_170205+%25281%2529.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-41168563051597257872016-07-26T04:32:00.000-07:002016-08-03T13:19:51.270-07:00THE MINESWEEPER COLLECTIVE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have always been dreaming to be in an artistic collective. And this happened to me almost two years ago in London when we found The Minesweeper Collective, an international collective that lives in a boat close to the Deptford creek. Since I found it we have been doing many things together. The first time I had a collaboration with minesweeper it has been during an artistic residency on June 2015 with <i>Passion&Pain</i> a project by Wonderbee & Indignata Jones. In that occasion we united our nicknames in INDIGNADABEE and we built our project/label consisting in recycle clothes customized by our own drawings silkscreened patches. During the residency me and IndignadaJ. we painted the main stage and the main door. We created an installation made by recycle hearts and theet that we hung all around the boat and on 28th June we had the event. The second collaboration was on October with <i>Fake&Real</i> and in that occasion we created two big dolls and many paperboats that at the end of the event all together we left them float on the creek. The day after we have been creating an installation. We brought the dolls close to the Penny bridge and few days later someone burnt. A collective experiment. I like the idea to burn the art like a phoenix a new experience can born from the ashes.<br />
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On March 2016 with the collective we had an other collaboration and this time printing a book in the sunscreenlab settled in the boat. The book On the Hill of Pig Heart was a preview of some drawings that have been transferred on the wall during an event organised in Colleferro (Rome, Italy) where almost three years ago I opened a Tattoo studio INTOCORE TATTOO with other three persons. </div>
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The Minesweeper Collective is connected to the BirdNest a pub in Deptford where inside there The Undercurrent Gallery.</div>
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To get involved with the Mines check the website:</div>
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http://minesweepercollective.co.uk<br />
<br /></div>
wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-38339973392191192652016-03-11T09:00:00.000-08:002016-03-11T09:19:45.030-08:00FRUSTATA DAL VENTO<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Everybody gets a thorn in your soul</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Everybody look for something that nobody knows</div>
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Everybody is in your on way</div>
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Though wants to stay to everyone</div>
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Shut your mouth and kiss me </div>
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No words </div>
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No limits</div>
wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-48687841033308591442015-08-13T10:06:00.001-07:002015-08-13T10:12:11.061-07:00DWELLING PROJECT_2015 buildings go to Australia<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/T8F0dwzDTYE" width="459"></iframe><br />
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After two years, after the windy day with madcap in Crystal Palace, London,<br />
I'm here to send these buildings to Australia, Sydney thank to Ethan H.Minsker<br />
from Antagonist movement who invited me to participate.<br />
I'm glad to take parte at this project.<br />
Thanks and overall I'm glad to write again on this blog.<br />
I lost myself but now I'm ready to fly in some new layers of life.<br />
<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-88557965917328612512013-08-18T06:11:00.000-07:002013-08-18T06:11:10.193-07:00CRYSTAL PALACE_MADCAP_windyday<div>
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<div>
<b>A windy day.</b></div>
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<b>Yesterday I went with the S.E.R.F.S. girlzzz</b></div>
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<b>to Crystal Palace.</b></div>
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<b>A park, a stage, a carousel and MADCAP.</b></div>
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<b>A coalition of visual art and performance in Depford,</b></div>
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<b>close to New Cross Gate, where I have been living since February.</b></div>
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<b>Everything was ready for the show.</b></div>
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<b>Tends, flags, toys.</b></div>
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<b>A strong wind that started to destroy all the camp.</b></div>
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<b>Luckily the only tend we need was safe and at least</b></div>
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<b>a show has been realized.</b></div>
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<b>A bit blowy with the girlz</b></div>
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<b>we came back at home.</b></div>
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<b>Although the weather was against us,</b></div>
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<b>we were happy to stay together</b></div>
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<b>and to continue this adventure </b></div>
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<b>giving to the birth of a new coalition:</b></div>
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<i><b>South</b></i></div>
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<i><b>East</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Rising</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Forces</b></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Giornata ventilata, molto ventilata.</div>
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Insieme alle <i>S.E.R.F.S. girlzzz</i>,</div>
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siamo andate a Crystal Palace,</div>
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mi piace pronunciarlo:))</div>
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Un parco, un palco, delle giostre e <i>MADCAP</i></div>
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<div>
una coalizione di clowns, artistoidi e chi più ne ha più ne metta,</div>
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che si muove nel quartiere di <i>Depford</i>,</div>
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vicino a <i>New Cross Gate</i>, dove vivo da un pò.</div>
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Tutto sembrava pronto</div>
<div>
per uno spettacolo con i fiocchi.</div>
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Tendoni, striscioni, giochi </div>
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ad un tratto un forte vento si è abbattuto sul campo</div>
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portando via l'accampamento e facendo restare per fortuna</div>
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il solo tendone dove almeno uno spettacolo si è riuscito a portare a termine.</div>
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Un pò amareggiate con le <i>girlz</i> siamo tornate nei nostri quartieri,</div>
<div>
ma comunque contente per essere state insieme </div>
<div>
e continuare quest'avventura</div>
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che sta portando alla nascita di una nuova unione</div>
<div>
che si chiama appunto</div>
<div>
<i>South</i></div>
<div>
<i>East</i></div>
<div>
<i>Rising</i></div>
<div>
<i>Forces</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-50456240243145681472013-08-03T02:05:00.002-07:002013-08-03T08:49:51.777-07:00MEMORY'S SPEECH@NUNPOP_1_08_2013Giovedì 1 Agosto 2013<br />
sono stata ospite al NUNPOP,<br />
evento che si tiene ogni mese nel quartiere di Nunhead,<br />
situato a circa sei km a sud est di charing cross.<br />
L'evento si svolge al secondo piano di questo pub,<br />
dal nome piuttosto tenebroso<br />
THE OLD NUN'S HEAD<br />
che significa la testa della vecchia suora,<br />
perché si dice che in quest'area,<br />
durante la fine del 1600,<br />
con la dissoluzione dei monasteri,<br />
venissero tagliate le teste delle monache.<br />
<br />
Il NUNPOP ospita, in questo spazio che ricorda un convento,<br />
con le tipiche panche e il colore marrone delle pareti di legno,<br />
dicevo chiama a raccolta dai cinque ai sei artisti<br />
che espongono le proprie opere,<br />
e durante la serata, tra musica e contest,<br />
parlano del proprio processo artistico<br />
o comunque del progetto presentato durante la serata.<br />
<br />
Quello che io ho proposto è una piccola storiella che grazie a Vlad,<br />
la ragazza promotrice dell'evento, è riuscito davvero interessante.<br />
Io sul palco con le immagini di sfondo che a ritmo delle mie parole<br />
raccontavano la storiella del progetto che poi altro non è che<br />
MY NAME IS SERAFINO, la mostra che proposi in Masseria,<br />
la delicatessen dove da tra anni lavoro.<br />
In quella mostra per la prima volta la valigia che avevo portato con me<br />
con dentro la mia tesi dell'accademia, si è aperta e per la prima volta vidi<br />
esposti i miei lavori, che comunque fa sempre un certo effetto.<br />
<br />
Ecco di seguito il mio discorso sul palco del NUNPOP seguito dalle immagini che scorrevano dietro di me:<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
L'ITALIA E' IL PAESE DA DOVE VENGO</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
QUESTE SONO LE MIE MEMORIE</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I MIEI PRIMI GIOCHI</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
IL MIO PIANO</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
IL MIO CAVALLUCCIO A DONDOLO</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
IL MIO PRIMO ORSACCHIOTTO:SERAFINO</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
POSSO DI CERTO DIRE CHE L'ITALIA è IL MIO CUORE</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
DA DOVE HO INIZIATO LA RICERCA DELLE MIE RADICI</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
TUTTE QUESTE MEMORIE SI TROVANO NELLA CASA DEI MIEI GENITORI, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A COLLEFERRO</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
COLLEFERRO è UN PAESE A SUD DI ROMA</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
LA STORIA DI COLLEFERRO è MOLTO COMPLESSA</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
PAESE INDUSTRIALE, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
SORTO TRA UN'INDUSTRIA DI ESPLOSIVO E UNA DI CEMENTO </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
NEGLI ANNI SI è TRASFORMATO IN UN CENTRO METROPOLITANO</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
INSOMMA UNA PICCOLA CITTADINA A POCHI KM DALLA CAPITALE</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
SONO CRESCIUTA CON L'OSSESSIONE DI QUESTE INDUSTRIE </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
E DEL COLORE GRIGIO DI QUESTA CITTADINA.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
CON LA MIA MIGLIORE AMICA </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
DICEVAMO SEMPRE CHE </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
UN GIORNO QUEL GRIGIO </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
SAREBBE DIVENTATO UN ARCOBALENO.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
LE MIE MOMORIE DIVENTAVANO SEMPRE PIU PESANTI,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
COME LA TESTIERE DEL LETTO DELLA MIA NONNA. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
E' IN QUESTO LETTO,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
DOVE MIA NONNA MI RACCONTO' DELLA GUERRA E </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
DELLA STORIA DELLA MIA FAMIGLIA.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
MIA NONNA E' STATA, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
E'</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
E SARA' UNA GUIDA IMPORTANTE PER ME.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
LEI VIVE A ROMA </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
DOVE DECISI DI SPOSTARMI </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
PER STUDIARE E LAVORARE</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
AVEVO 19 ANNI</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A ROMA HO STUDIATO ARTE </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
ED E' IN QUESTA CITTA' DOVE MI SONO INNAMORATA DI MOLTE COSE,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHE HO LASCIATO PERCHE' SENTIVO CHE QUALCOSA MANCAVA</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
LA MIA INDOLE DA ZINGARA PROVIENE DA LONTANO,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
MA QUESTA E' UN'ALTRA STORIA!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
ROMA E' UNA CITTA' FANTASTICA</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
PERCHE' OGNI GIORNO BISOGNA CONFRONTARSI </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
TRA PASSATO E CONTEMPORANEO</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
QUESTO E' UNO DEGLI ELEMENTI CHE LA RENDE ETERNA</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
E' A ROMA CHE INIZIO A RACCOGLIERE PER STRADA </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>GLI OGGETTI DELLA MEMORIA</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
QUESTI OGGETTI MI RIPORTAVANO AL MIO PASSATO</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
E STAVO CAPENDO SEMPRE DI PIU' </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHE QUESTO PASSATTO E' INDIVIDUALE, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
MA ALLO STESSO TEMPO COLLETTIVO</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
PERCHE' FACCIAMO, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
COMUNQE PARTE, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
TUTTI/E DI QUESTA TERRA.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
ED ECCOMI IN QUESTO DISEGNO, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
IO NEL MONDO </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
CON IL CUORE A VISTA </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
CONTENENTE LE MIE MEMORIE</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>Thursday, August 1, 2013</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>I was a guest at NUNPOP,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>an event that takes place every month in the district of Nunhead,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>located about six miles southeast of Charing Cross.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>The event takes place on the second floor of this pub,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>its name is rather gloomy</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>THE OLD NUN'S HEAD</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>which means the head of the old nun,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>because it is said that in this area,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>during the late 1600s,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>with the dissolution of the monasteries,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>were cut off the heads of the nuns.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>The NUNPOP hosts</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>from five to six artists,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>in this space reminiscent of a convent,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>with the typical brown color of benches and wooden walls.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>The artists </b><b>display their works,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>and during the evening, </b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>with music and contests,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>they talk about their artistic process</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>or the project presented during the evening.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>What I have proposed is a small story that thanks to Vlad,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>the girl who promoted the event,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>became really interesting.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>I'm on stage </b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>the screen behind meand images flow with my words</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>telling the story of the project</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>MY NAME IS SERAFINO, </b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>the show I proposed in <i>La Masseria</i>,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>the delicatessen where I've been working for almost three years.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>In that exhibition for the first time the suitcase I had brought with me</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>containing the </b><b>academy's </b><b>thesis has been opened</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>and so for the first time I saw </b><b>my works on the wall, </b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>which, however, </b><b>makes always a certain effect.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>Here is my speech on stage at the NUNPOP followed by the images that ran behind me:</b></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div>
<b>ITALY IS THE COUNTRY WHERE I'M FROM</b></div>
<div>
<b>THESE ARE MY MEMORIES</b></div>
<div>
<b>MY FIRST GAMES</b></div>
<div>
<b>MY PIANO</b></div>
<div>
<b>MY ROCKING HORSE</b></div>
<div>
<b>MY FIRST PUPPET: SERAFINO</b></div>
<div>
<b>I COULD SAY THAT ITALY IS MY HEART</b></div>
<div>
<b>WHERE I STARTED THE SEARCH OF MY ROOTS</b></div>
<div>
<b>ALL THESE MEMORIES LIE IN MY PARENTS' HOME,</b></div>
<div>
<b>IN COLLEFERRO</b></div>
<div>
<b>COLLEFERRO IS A TOWN ON THE SOUTH OF ROME</b></div>
<div>
<b>THE HISTORY OF COLLEFERRO IS VERY COMPLEX</b></div>
<div>
<b>IT'S AN INDUSTRIAL TOWN,</b></div>
<div>
<b>ARISING BETWEEN EXPLOSIVE AND CEMENT INDUSTRIES</b><br />
<b>DURING THE YEARS IT BECAME A METROPOLITAN TOWN</b></div>
<div>
<b>I GREW UP WITH THE OBSESSION OF THESE INDUSTRIES</b></div>
<div>
<b>AND THE GRAY COLOUR OF THIS CITY.</b></div>
<div>
<b>WITH MY BEST FRIEND</b></div>
<div>
<b>WE ALWAYS SAID THAT</b></div>
<div>
<b>ONE DAY THAT GREY</b></div>
<div>
<b>WOULD BECOME A RAINBOW.</b></div>
<div>
<b>THE WEIGHT OF MY MEMORIES BECAME INCREASINGLY HEAVY</b><br />
<b>JUST LIKE MY GRANDMOTHER'S </b><b> HEADBOARD</b><b>.</b></div>
<div>
<b>THIS IS THE BED </b><br />
<b>WHERE OFTEN</b><br />
<b> I SLEPT WITH MY GRANDMOTHER,</b></div>
<div>
<b> WHERE SHE TOLD ME ABOUT THE WAR AND THE STORY OF MY FAMILY</b><b>.</b></div>
<div>
<b>MY GRANDMA HAS ALWAYS BEEN</b><br />
<b>IS AND WILL BE</b><br />
<b>AN </b><b>IMPORTANT </b><b>GUIDE FOR ME.</b></div>
<div>
<b>SHE LIVES IN ROME</b></div>
<div>
<b>WHERE I DECIDED TO MOVE</b></div>
<div>
<b>FOR STUDYING AND WORKING</b></div>
<div>
<b>I WAS 19 YEARS OLD</b><br />
<b>IN ROME I STUDIED ART </b></div>
<div>
<b>AND HERE I FELL IN LOVE WITH MANY THINGS,</b></div>
<div>
<b>I LEFT THIS CITY </b><br />
<b>BECAUSE I FELT </b><br />
<b>SOMETHING WAS MISSING</b></div>
<div>
<b>MY GYPSY </b><b><b>NATURE </b> COMES FROM FAR AWAY,</b></div>
<div>
<b>BUT THIS IS ANOTHER STORY!</b></div>
<div>
<b>ROME IS AN AMAZING CITY</b></div>
<div>
<b>EVERY DAY YOU HAVE TO FACE </b><br />
<b>THE CONTRAST</b></div>
<div>
<b>BETWEEN THE PAST AND THE CONTEMPORARY</b></div>
<div>
<b>THIS IS ONE OF THE ELEMENTS THAT GIVES TO ROME</b><br />
<b>THE NICKNAME OF THE ETERNAL CITY</b></div>
<div>
<b>IT'S IN ROME WHERE I STARTED TO COLLETCT</b></div>
<div>
<b><i>"THE MEMORY OBECT"</i></b><br />
<b>IN THE STREET</b><br />
<b>THESE OBJECTS REMIND ME OF MY PAST</b><br />
<b>THAT DURING MY LIFE </b><br />
<b>I'M UNDERSTANDING</b><br />
<b> IT IS COLLECTIVE , TOO</b></div>
<div>
<b>THE LAST DRAWING IS A SELPORTRAIT,</b><br />
<b>ME IN THE WORLD </b><br />
<b>WITH MY </b><b>HEART </b></div>
<div>
<b>CONTAINING MY MEMORIES.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVey_y9ax1z0y_0WhxmD2mwSg6gg60trU2yyHHheDwNs3Rz5Q-GyXYH5hDYjHpUNzIFBFynBU33-zpca9pY5S4qjydJtKQ1NHyidHrB2oSroJTWUm9MVUFBC7vXJOPg3oWiEihVGpAVAc/s1600/1_my+italy+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVey_y9ax1z0y_0WhxmD2mwSg6gg60trU2yyHHheDwNs3Rz5Q-GyXYH5hDYjHpUNzIFBFynBU33-zpca9pY5S4qjydJtKQ1NHyidHrB2oSroJTWUm9MVUFBC7vXJOPg3oWiEihVGpAVAc/s640/1_my+italy+.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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<b>from where I'm from</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHXxS1ug8AzVZTOwsPlkAcbD1f6Mna-qa182ceudHL_0FmoE641dUAAbS7BJs2Qmu2d6VYZZVPmZLDniVYUHWklxSJA60fwC8KAb0RzP9vp7k1sureL7Dt8Oowc-Gx8WKKHH2fR6ko8Co/s1600/CHILDHOOD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="95" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHXxS1ug8AzVZTOwsPlkAcbD1f6Mna-qa182ceudHL_0FmoE641dUAAbS7BJs2Qmu2d6VYZZVPmZLDniVYUHWklxSJA60fwC8KAb0RzP9vp7k1sureL7Dt8Oowc-Gx8WKKHH2fR6ko8Co/s400/CHILDHOOD.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>my first toys</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAXojq7nAJm-fuQyL-rcUWAK71npATDEA_zCOXzTA7VJRrhyKIY3iI5Q5umBuACTDGAJnxw_zGpez69VKZLWKsLbMCucVaryzoY7DZ2Yojkg8uLeZUvxf13Gln6QTm-6KfKpaXKv1m7Sc/s1600/GIRLHOOOD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="95" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAXojq7nAJm-fuQyL-rcUWAK71npATDEA_zCOXzTA7VJRrhyKIY3iI5Q5umBuACTDGAJnxw_zGpez69VKZLWKsLbMCucVaryzoY7DZ2Yojkg8uLeZUvxf13Gln6QTm-6KfKpaXKv1m7Sc/s400/GIRLHOOOD.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<b> my town</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUXn1kPjrGoJj7iQSfZANzgLt7Y13ZrRpJw87n8L-2sq3ky0a3stlpURojsefsyPU-NKqIQkcrtkpME7Zb8rINPVrrQ2pjL7rhxs0F4rQGXBlXISqcxVUZDlBFlZG_EdF7RXUFWuidTWk/s1600/FAMILY_ROME.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="95" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUXn1kPjrGoJj7iQSfZANzgLt7Y13ZrRpJw87n8L-2sq3ky0a3stlpURojsefsyPU-NKqIQkcrtkpME7Zb8rINPVrrQ2pjL7rhxs0F4rQGXBlXISqcxVUZDlBFlZG_EdF7RXUFWuidTWk/s400/FAMILY_ROME.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>my family and the eternal city</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmda-oDcAEbPQi6R2KD9hJhyJCD4TFU2mfJYL6V0VmoLyVw0HKH7cRhZc47Uw0gniz4vFiCax9gmui4S8Eif1V5qwEPZu2gJj-qMqkfNtF15amxemQOmp-zyrdngB1e0-dObrIlLqqk6E/s1600/MEMORY+OBJECT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="95" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmda-oDcAEbPQi6R2KD9hJhyJCD4TFU2mfJYL6V0VmoLyVw0HKH7cRhZc47Uw0gniz4vFiCax9gmui4S8Eif1V5qwEPZu2gJj-qMqkfNtF15amxemQOmp-zyrdngB1e0-dObrIlLqqk6E/s400/MEMORY+OBJECT.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>memory object</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLsxAdZ1OyVY2w3Mrg__TCcgm-SIcFaxQ0GxuFvnerToaT75Altvpysci4zqTCvlv_IoYVzaHZS7Up8cbEOL-8zHd8AmBUnVk0dVt7GqQRXbVyzzjd1TMWiHVXqWxaqse0YzccXzl85LY/s1600/29_me+around+the+world+looking+for+something+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLsxAdZ1OyVY2w3Mrg__TCcgm-SIcFaxQ0GxuFvnerToaT75Altvpysci4zqTCvlv_IoYVzaHZS7Up8cbEOL-8zHd8AmBUnVk0dVt7GqQRXbVyzzjd1TMWiHVXqWxaqse0YzccXzl85LY/s640/29_me+around+the+world+looking+for+something+.jpg" width="440" /></a></div>
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<b>my heart containing my memories</b></div>
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<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
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<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-12068712666925365212013-04-29T04:44:00.000-07:002013-04-29T04:52:35.656-07:00from THE BIG BOOK_mark n°5<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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Ultimamente mi capita di cadere </div>
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in un grande buco nero,</div>
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e non mi dispiace, affatto!</div>
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Un vortice in cui non riesco a riconoscermi,</div>
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in cui perdo le mie coordinate.</div>
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Così comincio a girare, roteare, roteare</div>
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e grazie al vento che rinfresca la mia pelle,</div>
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torno a girare più morbida.</div>
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Riscopro i pezzi che mi aiutano a costruire di nuovo me stessa</div>
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e come una girandola seguo il fischio che va.</div>
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Si dice che il buco nero è una regione dello spazio</div>
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dove nemmeno la luce può uscire.</div>
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Qualcuno dice di averli visti.</div>
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Chi lo sa?</div>
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In questi anni non li ho mai visti,</div>
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ma nel mio piccolo spazio/tempo, sì.</div>
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Vero o no,</div>
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il fatto è che per fortuna </div>
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il buco nero esiste!</div>
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Perdersi è importante,</div>
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per essere fagocitati,</div>
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non per troppo tempo, </div>
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ovviamente,</div>
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perché la libertà è troppo importante,</div>
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così come la lotta quotidiana contro chi vuole ostacolarla</div>
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Questo è un conflitto che tutti prima o poi dobbiamo affrontare.</div>
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Si muore per la libertà quando dovrebbe essere un diritto sacrosanto,</div>
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il primo comandamento in una società che contiene in sé</div>
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tutti gli strumenti per autogestirsi ed essere libera, </div>
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ma fatica a mettere insieme tutti i pezzi.</div>
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Anche la piccola Laika costretta a salire su quello strano oggetto,</div>
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la sua libertà negata per colpa di chi in quel momento decise per lei.</div>
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Spero solo che abbia trovato il suo buco nero!</div>
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<b>Lately it happens to me to fall in a big balck hole,</b></div>
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<b>and it's not so bad!</b></div>
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<b>A vortex in which I can't recognise myself,</b></div>
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<b>in which I lost my own coordinates.</b></div>
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<b>So I start to whirl, whirl, whirl</b></div>
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<b>and thanks to the wind that refreshes my skin,</b></div>
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<b>I come back to whirl softer.</b></div>
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<b>I rediscover the pieces that help me to build myself again </b></div>
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<b>and like a pinwheel I follow the whistle that goes.</b></div>
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<b>It says that the black hole is a region of the space</b></div>
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<b>where not even the light can't come out.</b></div>
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<b>Someone says to have seen them.</b></div>
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<b>who knows?</b></div>
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<b>During these years I never seen them in the sky,</b></div>
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<b>but in my little time/space, yes.</b></div>
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<b>True or not, </b></div>
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<b>the fact is that luckily the black hole exists.</b></div>
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<b>To get lost it is important,</b></div>
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<b>to be phagocytized,</b></div>
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<b>not for too much time of course,</b></div>
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</div>
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<b>because freedom is too important,</b></div>
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<b>as well as the daily struggle against those want to hinder.</b></div>
<b>This is a conflict that everyone someday must to face.</b><br />
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<b></b></div>
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<b>It can die for the freedom.</b></div>
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<b>People are dying for freedom,</b></div>
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<b>when it should be a sacred right,</b></div>
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<b>the first commandment in a society that holds</b></div>
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<b>all the tools to manage herself and be free,</b></div>
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<b>but struggled to put all the pieces together.</b></div>
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<b>The small Laika forced to go on that strange object,</b></div>
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<b>denied her freedom because of those who at that time decided for her.</b></div>
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<b>I just hope she found his black hole!</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwWFMRpYSVpaaQ7CzBAK2yyQ7znloqFO58qsFd5XUHnFtJ-3jaKV1X14Kez9gTj0XDI-7-3lFa32RZd2ByTLPcJMX4kjsK4hV2pEEBPHQM-Wth8zSiCKGb_mflPVWE6I9hIDxrd7jY3YY/s1600/the+red+hole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwWFMRpYSVpaaQ7CzBAK2yyQ7znloqFO58qsFd5XUHnFtJ-3jaKV1X14Kez9gTj0XDI-7-3lFa32RZd2ByTLPcJMX4kjsK4hV2pEEBPHQM-Wth8zSiCKGb_mflPVWE6I9hIDxrd7jY3YY/s400/the+red+hole.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">p.s. thanks to who left ths mark</b></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/6te5dME3KTI?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<b style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">STILL/STABLE</b><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">_malousse&punky's garden_london (2013)</span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyUK4Yvb0wIcrqpmmXSEGNZBQ-aGQBjJFHndBbW5z-FwGhiEQLmME66rZW_AeaiRFXkVTUB_ytPnERfGdwCVg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<b>Laika</b>_1953-1957</div>
<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-440899011743577122013-04-18T04:34:00.000-07:002013-04-18T07:36:52.212-07:00from THE BIG BOOK_mark n°4<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
L'albero della vita. </div>
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L'albero del bene e del male. </div>
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L'albero che non doveva essere toccato e </div>
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per fortuna invece la curiosità arrivò e </div>
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così anche la conoscenza di cose che magari non sarebbero venute alla luce. </div>
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Le radici con cui prima o poi bisogna fare i conti per poter stare in piedi,</div>
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i rami che catturano le piccole sensazioni e anche le grandi,</div>
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le foglie che vibrano dando al corpo quel non so che si sensuale e </div>
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la terra con cui ci si nutre per vivere e anche per morire.</div>
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</div>
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Un giorno scoprii una quercia </div>
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che si trova lungo una strada in Toscana. </div>
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Una quercia di 500 anni!</div>
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E' successo grazie ad un amico </div>
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che di solito va lì </div>
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solo per sentire l'odore del suo profumo </div>
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di questo albero meraviglioso. </div>
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Quando penso a qualcosa di spirituale, </div>
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dove posso andare a stare in silenzio, </div>
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penso a quell'albero e </div>
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a quel giorno prima di partire per New York.</div>
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L'abbracciai e dopo avere espresso un desiderio, </div>
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seppellii una matita come dono per la sua attenzione e </div>
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riconoscenza per essere lì testimone del tempo che passa.</div>
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Chiamatelo come volete albero della vita, della conoscenza, del tutto e del niente,</div>
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gli alberi saranno sempre lì a proteggerci dalla luce, dalla pioggia, dalle intemperie,</div>
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ma attenzione a non rispettarli,</div>
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potrebbero diventare furiosi e </div>
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a quel punto ogni definizione a nulla sarà servita.</div>
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<b>The tree of life.</b></div>
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<b>The tree of good and bad.</b></div>
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<b>The tree that never had to be touched, </b></div>
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<b>but fortunately the curiosity came and so </b></div>
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<b>the knowledge of things that should not have come out.</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>The roots that we need for standing up and that</b></div>
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<b>sooner or later we have to search,</b></div>
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<b>because it is the only way to understand our past, present and future;</b></div>
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<b>the branches that catch the small and great sensations, emotions;</b></div>
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<b>the leaves that give to the body the sensuality and finally </b></div>
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<b>the soil that feeds us both in life and in death.</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b></b></div>
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<b>One day I found an oak </b></div>
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<b>that sits along a road in Tuscany.</b></div>
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<b>She is 500 years old!</b></div>
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<b>This happened thanks to a friend </b></div>
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<b>who usually goes there</b></div>
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<b>just to smell the purfume of this amazing tree.</b></div>
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<b>When I think of something spiritual, </b></div>
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<b>where I can go to be quiet, </b></div>
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<b>I think of that tree and </b></div>
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<b>the day before I left for New York.</b></div>
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<b>I hugged her and after expressing a wish, </b></div>
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<b>I buried a pencil as a gift for her attention and</b></div>
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<b></b></div>
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<b>gratitude for being there</b></div>
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<b>witness of the passing of time.</b></div>
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<b>You can call it as you want,</b></div>
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<b>tree of life, tree of knowledge, tree of everything and nothing,</b></div>
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<b>the trees will be there, always.</b></div>
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<b>They will protect us from rain, from storm, from light, </b></div>
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<b>but be careful if you dont respect them every definition will be useless.</b></div>
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<b style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">p.s. thanks to who left ths mark</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRuL-kfZb9UI3tp-KT_nrRf1NN33T_LXK5Ho5Q5Ju3uk6IHtCJcNvKAgjVl-SPfn1GYSXV4ZiGbnzmXCfToM7rdIBc24s44Dxi9mS0hNP1NGPa6HRsyRheRWwVXSmcupu1XrW9YXY-EnQ/s1600/albero_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRuL-kfZb9UI3tp-KT_nrRf1NN33T_LXK5Ho5Q5Ju3uk6IHtCJcNvKAgjVl-SPfn1GYSXV4ZiGbnzmXCfToM7rdIBc24s44Dxi9mS0hNP1NGPa6HRsyRheRWwVXSmcupu1XrW9YXY-EnQ/s640/albero_3.jpg" width="388" /></a></div>
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cabala tree</div>
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<b>oak_Toscana_Pienza_2009_before going to NYC</b></div>
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I found this photo on internet, </div>
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I had some photos of her but unfortunately I lost them!</div>
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<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://i.ytimg.com/vi/A_CAAdKKlQ0/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/A_CAAdKKlQ0?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/A_CAAdKKlQ0?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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<b>STILL/STABLE</b>_harrow on the hill_london (2012)</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dygb9o85xI2bv61h5oAHAmdHMXZBtHT-p5T31ggykihUE5m8DL7Le0lH0XmbklG19VP0ZaCeh3b1En6Gndesg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<b>Lord of the Rings </b><b>The Two Towers </b><b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">(2002)</b></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">scene Treebeard Rage</span></div>
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<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-59699326363627418012013-04-09T05:12:00.001-07:002013-04-10T11:40:42.243-07:00from THE BIG BOOK_mark n°3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Lunghezza, larghezza,</div>
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le assi s'incrociano,</div>
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c'è sempre un punto d'incontro</div>
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e anche di scontro. </div>
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Niente è dato al caso,</div>
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le cose accadono </div>
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ma non sempre è facile trovare l'intreccio.</div>
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A volte le assi sono parallele e difficilmente s'incontrano,</div>
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se non nel punto immaginario e allora che fare?</div>
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Forse è lì la sfida capire come incontrarsi.</div>
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<b>Length, width,</b></div>
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<b>the axes intersect,</b></div>
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<b>there is always a match</b></div>
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<b>and even a clash.</b></div>
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<b>Nothing is left to chance,</b></div>
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<b>things happen</b></div>
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<b>but it is not always easy to find the plot.</b></div>
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<b>Sometimes the boards are parallel and difficult to meet,</b></div>
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<b>except in the imaginary point and then what to do?</b></div>
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<b>Maybe that's where the challenge to understand how to meet.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQX1iFW0E_TI0A1QeqqYoKaNSYFvb4QeuR4MH-YDw4mGeuFcNyXjw2_0RF6h7fLmL6PAaGnlU7TOIDh0VG2aOJbbkcvCwHajNVcPfCtfqIpz4K2TOha88xPhpaLn4H2ovAbGjgnh1HMI/s1600/cross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQX1iFW0E_TI0A1QeqqYoKaNSYFvb4QeuR4MH-YDw4mGeuFcNyXjw2_0RF6h7fLmL6PAaGnlU7TOIDh0VG2aOJbbkcvCwHajNVcPfCtfqIpz4K2TOha88xPhpaLn4H2ovAbGjgnh1HMI/s640/cross.jpg" width="432" /></a></div>
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<b>p.s. thanks to who left ths mark</b></div>
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everything moves_everything turns_london_2013</div>
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stable/still_elephant&castle_london_2013</div>
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<span id="goog_1108351821"></span><span id="goog_1108351822"></span><br /></div>
<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-45896758185144649872013-04-01T05:42:00.000-07:002013-04-18T07:41:11.501-07:00from THE BIG BOOK_mark n°2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Quando ero piccola mi regalarono un libro sul corpo umano</div>
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e c'era una pagina tutta dedicata all'alfabeto manuale.</div>
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Mi piaceva comunicare così senza parole, a gesti.</div>
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Mi sembrava che i concetti potessero essere espressi in maniera più sintetica,</div>
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senza troppi giri di parole o fraintendimenti. </div>
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Questo segno lasciato sul grande libro, mi ha riportato alla mente quella sensazione,</div>
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ma soprattutto il gioco che inventammo con i miei amichetti quando eravamo</div>
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davvero piccoli piccoli, e sto parlando di 8-9 anni.</div>
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All'epoca frequentavo la scuola elementare e la scuola si trovava in mezzo ad un prato.</div>
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Durante le ora di ricreazione si usciva e ognuno giocava a quello che voleva,</div>
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chi a calcio, chi ai quattro cantoni, chi all'elastico, chi a raccogliere margherite.</div>
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La mia combriccola invece inventò un gioco davvero strano, </div>
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in cui appunto non c'era bisogno di parole. </div>
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Ognuno di noi era un pianeta, io ricordo ero Saturno, e ci si rincorreva così</div>
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senza meta finché tutti dovevano allinearsi in modo da formare la giusta asse.</div>
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Un gioco davvero idiota, </div>
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ma la cosa era che bisognava immedesimarsi nel pianeta </div>
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e poi raccontare cosa si era provato.</div>
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L'infanzia è il momento in cui ci s'interroga su chi siamo, almeno ci si prova.</div>
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<i>from Der Himmel uber Berlin:</i></div>
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<i>Quando il bambino era bambino</i></div>
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<i>se ne andava a braccia appese,</i></div>
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<i>voleva che il ruscello fosse un fiume,</i></div>
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<i>il fume un torrente.</i></div>
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<i>E questa pozza il mare.</i></div>
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<i>Quando il bambino era bambino</i></div>
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<i>non sapeva di essere un bambino,</i></div>
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<i>per lui tutto aveva un'anima</i></div>
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<i>e tutte le anime eran un tutt'uno.</i></div>
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<i>Quando il bambno era bambino </i></div>
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<i>su niente aveva un'opinione,</i></div>
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<i>non aveva abtudin,</i></div>
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<i>sedeva spesso a gambe incrociate</i></div>
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<i>e di colpo sgusciava via.</i></div>
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<i>Aveva un vortice tra i capelli</i></div>
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<i>e non faceva facce da fotografo.</i></div>
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<i><b>When I was little someone gave me a book on the human body</b></i></div>
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<i><b>and there was a whole page dedicated to the manual alphabet.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>I liked the idea to communicate without words.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>It seemed to me that the concepts could be expressed in a more concise way,</b></i></div>
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<i><b>without misunderstandings.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>This mark left on TEH BIG BOOK reminding that feeling,</b></i></div>
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<i><b>and when I was very little, about 8-9 years old, </b></i></div>
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<i><b>with my friends at school </b></i></div>
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<i><b>we invented a game.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>The primary school that I attended was in the middle of a field.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>During the hours of recreation we went out and everyone played what they wanted.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>football, four cantons, elastic, to pick daisies.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>My gang invented a game really strange,</b></i></div>
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<i><b>we didn't need words.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Each of us was a planet, I remember I was Saturn.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>We chased each other until everyone had to line up to form the planet axis.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>A game really stupid,</b></i></div>
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<i><b>but the thing was that you had to empathize with the planet</b></i></div>
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<i><b>and then tell what he had felt.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Childhood is the time when we do things just for trying.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>At least we tried.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||SYMBOLO "L" = land, layout, life|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||</b></i></div>
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<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
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<i></i></div>
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<i><b>from Der Himmel uber Berlin:</b></i></div>
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<i></i></div>
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<i>When the child was a child</i></div>
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<i>had his arms hanging,</i></div>
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<i>wanted the brook to be a river,</i></div>
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<i>and the river a stream </i></div>
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<i>and this pool a sea.</i></div>
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<i>When the child was a child</i></div>
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<i>he didn't know to be a child,</i></div>
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<i>for him everything had a soul</i></div>
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<i>and all souls were one.</i></div>
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<i>When the child was child</i></div>
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<i>had an opinion on anything,</i></div>
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<i>had not habits,</i></div>
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<i>often sat cross-legged</i></div>
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<i>and suddenly slipped away.</i></div>
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<i>He had a vortex in your hair</i></div>
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<i>and made no faces photographer.</i></div>
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<img alt="" border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzst_7m7_qNR3PnbWVReYgJPfY_9EzbpPgXQLEbbs85r60KGbL2KzqQq4tUb7r2D0_iSMSls2U4RAwGurPmX2DHLnAR0MoAoFxoxt1g8hQQE5u9BE50Nq4ZRisQhRDoYpApTgY7-B0ltc/s400/hand.jpg" title="TOBECONCEIVED_wonderbarbee_mark left from someone in THE BIG BOOK, during my first experiment of the project THE BOOGIE SOULS_london, 2013" width="400" /></div>
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<b>p.s. thanks to who left this mark</b></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz6yprnNFS446OkkOuoDrMQc6_k60wPQYcJV7MoVdjH2E3_iftPY70xzjPV8Gz_uDVolIT8-i5LgDmb9QB_EA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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from the movie of Wim Wenders </div>
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<b>DER HIMMEL UBER BERLIN (1987)</b></div>
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this was my first movie I saw on the big screen.</div>
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This heppened in my village Colleferro </div>
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where there was just a theatre </div>
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when I was 12 years old</div>
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with my parents</div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-25865836980994362402013-03-26T15:17:00.001-07:002013-04-01T03:51:51.016-07:00from THE BIG BOOK_mark n°1Si dice che la notte è una buona consigliera.<br />
E infatti lo è, anche se spesso il buio fa paura,<br />
ma solo quando il giorno si attende impazientemente.<br />
Eh già la pazienza spesso difficile da mantenere, a volte,<br />
almeno per me. Molte volte vorrei tutto e subito,<br />
specialmente quelle cose che sono nella testa,<br />
quei pensieri che passano veloci<br />
che vorrei subito mettere in pratica,<br />
ma il più delle volte bisogna attendere, attendere e attendere.<br />
Certo non troppo perché poi l'alba arriva e con il chiarore<br />
le linee che sembravano nette vanno a sfumare.<br />
Mi piacerebbe per un attimo essere una pipistrella<br />
e soltanto con le orecchie cacciare i pensieri che sfuggono,<br />
che sfrecciano, che volteggiano. E poi appendermi di nuovo<br />
e nel silenzio ascoltare il fruscio del vento.<br />
<br />
Ecco questo è il mio piccolo pensiero che<i> Miss Anchor<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 16px;"> </span></span></i><br />
è riuscita a catturare da questo segno lasciato nel libro,<br />
in quel libro che il mare portò dopo una lunga tempesta.<br />
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<i>The night is a good mentor, </i><br />
<i>even if often I've scared of the dark,</i><br />
<i>but only when I'm waiting for the day without patience.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Patience so difficult to maintain,</i><br />
<i>at times,</i><br />
<i>at least for me. </i><br />
<i>Many times I'd like everything at once,</i><br />
<i>especially those things that are in my head,</i><br />
<i>those thoughts that are passing quickly.</i><br />
<br />
<i>I would like everything immediately,</i><br />
<i>but most of the time I have to wait, wait and wait.</i><br />
<br />
<i>because the day is coming and </i><br />
<i>those lines that seem so strong could fade. </i><br />
<br />
<i>I'd like, just for a sec, to be a little bat</i><br />
<i>and only with ears chase the thoughts that escape,</i><br />
<i>whizzing, whirling. And then I'd like to hang myself again</i><br />
<i>in silence and listen to the rustling of the wind.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<br />
<i>This is the little thought that Miss Anchor</i><br />
<i>was able to capture from this sign left in the book,</i><br />
<i>in that book that brought the sea after a long storm.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjls-6fhpdIhQoGUau-kh7R2Gip6YDvwnSxy2EnSDQtniPoHv29TOUFAtMszdA9eGnNqGJSVNXHMfeh5xT-VRSF6or1U6R1ZQH1dI90MDj9Of_AHJFSBJlQyAv1Y7UaGWaIMe7r-L_F08Q/s1600/pipistrello.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjls-6fhpdIhQoGUau-kh7R2Gip6YDvwnSxy2EnSDQtniPoHv29TOUFAtMszdA9eGnNqGJSVNXHMfeh5xT-VRSF6or1U6R1ZQH1dI90MDj9Of_AHJFSBJlQyAv1Y7UaGWaIMe7r-L_F08Q/s640/pipistrello.jpg" title="THE BIG BOOK_from the boogie souls project_wonderbarbee_mark left from someone during the exhibition TOBECONCEIVED" width="474" /></a></div>
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<b>p.s. thanks to who left her/his mark</b></div>
<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-33517798522866840822013-03-18T15:08:00.003-07:002013-03-18T15:57:03.308-07:00||||||||||||||||||||TOBECONCEIVED|||||||||||||||||||||_artists in the cells__MISS ANCHOR_first experiment of THE BOOGIE SOULS_project<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b></b></div>
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FIRST OF ALL</div>
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I WOULD LIKE TO THANK</div>
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ALL THOSE WHO HAVE COME TO SEE</div>
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<i>TOBECONCEIVED</i></div>
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AND ALL THOSE </div>
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THAT HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO COME</div>
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THANKS TO MY FRIENDS</div>
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WHO HAVE SUPPORTED ME </div>
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IN THIS EXPERIMENT</div>
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AND I WAS SO HAPPY and GRATEFUL</div>
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TO KNOW the two curators BANU and KAREN</div>
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AND ALL THE OTHER ARTISTS.</div>
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° ___ * IT WAS A GREAT EXPERIENCE ° ___ *</div>
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P.S.in the following posts I'll show what I found in the big book where people left their signs,</div>
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because now in this blog the experiment should be continued</div>
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<b>WHO IS MISS ANCHOR?</b></div>
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<b>I am the anchor that is tired of being moored</b></div>
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<b>to a ship that carries only war and terror.</b></div>
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<b>I am the anchor that dares to break away,</b></div>
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<b>despite knowing what will run into.</b></div>
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<b>I am the anchor that day broke its chains</b></div>
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<b>and faced the stormy sea riding a wave</b></div>
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<b>that saved me and brought me into the depths of a place</b></div>
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<b>to all unknown.</b></div>
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<b>Now I'm the messaggerra, the one that lies </b></div>
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<b>in the ocean's depths and collects </b></div>
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<b>those thoughts that no one wants to say,</b></div>
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<b>those objects that everybody discards and now they know where to go.</b></div>
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<b>One time I used to travell and stopped in the most beautiful harbors in the world,</b></div>
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<b>despite all this I miss you </b></div>
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<b>I know that my choice was dictated </b></div>
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<b>only by the freedom not to accept the compromises</b></div>
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<b>of humanity too busy watching their own interests.</b></div>
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<b>Now I'm here waiting for another strong wave who to take me </b></div>
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<b>in new depths and new intimacy.</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>CHI E' MISS ANCHOR?</b></div>
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<b>Io sono l'ancora che è stanca di stare attraccata</b></div>
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<b>ad una nave che porta solo guerra e terrore.</b></div>
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<b>Sono l'ancora che osa staccarsi, </b></div>
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<b>nonostante sappia a cosa andrà in contro.</b></div>
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<b>Sono l'ancora che quel giorno staccò le sue catene</b></div>
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<b>e affrontò il mare in tempesta a cavallo di un onda</b></div>
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<b>che la salvò e la condusse nei meandri di un luogo</b></div>
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<b>a tutti e a tutte sconosciuto.</b></div>
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<b>Ora sono la messaggerra, colei che se ne sta nelle profondità</b></div>
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<b>dell'oceano e raccoglie quei pensieri che nessuno vorrebbe mai dire,</b></div>
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<b>quegli oggetto che tutti scartano e che ora sanno dove andare.</b></div>
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<b>Un tempo viaggiavo e mi fermavo nei porti più belli del mondo,</b></div>
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<b>nonostante tutto questo mi manchi so che la mia scelta è stata</b></div>
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<b>dettata solo dalla libertà di non accettare i compromessi</b></div>
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<b>di un'umanità troppo intenta a guardare i propri interessi.</b></div>
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<b>Ora sono qui ad aspettare un'altra onda più forte che mi porti</b></div>
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<b>a scoprire nuovi abissi e nuove intimità.</b></div>
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°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°</div>
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<b><i>||||||THE BOOGIE SOULS_project||||| first experiment||||</i></b></div>
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<b>The idea is to create a space </b></div>
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<b>where those who enters becomes part of the picture.</b></div>
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<b>What I'm asking to the viewe is to play.</b></div>
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<b>You'll find all the play instrucctions in the cell. </b></div>
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<b>What I'm trying to do with this work_installation</b></div>
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<b>is a reaction from who spend his/her time and emotions</b></div>
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<b>to come to see an exhibition. </b></div>
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<b>The artist takes time to think and create a work </b></div>
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<b>and so who comes to see her/his work.</b></div>
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<b>I would like to take this time and emotions </b></div>
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<b>and for this reason after the exhibition </b></div>
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<b>I suggest you yo have a look at my blog. </b></div>
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<b>It will be a surprise and </b></div>
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<b>it would be interesting </b></div>
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<b>if new ideas come out </b></div>
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<b>from this experiment.</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>|||p.s.|||read the instructions and everything it will be more clear!</b></div>
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<b>°__° thanks for participating °__°</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b><u>PLAY INSTRUCTIONS:</u></b></div>
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<b>sit</b></div>
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<b>take a tangerine</b></div>
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<b>peel</b></div>
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<b>break a piece of the peel</b></div>
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<b>make a wish</b></div>
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<b>approach the suitcase</b></div>
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<b>leave a sign in the big book</b></div>
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<b>and finally pick one envelope that is in the box</b></div>
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<b>The envelope is a gift from miss ancho</b></div>
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<b>P.S.</b><b>only someone who has been patient to finish the game can take the envelope</b></div>
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<b><i>THE BOOGIE SOULS_project|_primo esperimento</i></b></div>
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<b>L'idea è di creare uno spazio in cui chi entra fa parte del quadro.</b></div>
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<b>Ciò che chiedo allo spettatore è d giocare.</b></div>
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<b>Troverai tutte le istruzione nella cella.</b></div>
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<b>L'intento di quest'installazione è di provocare una reazione nello spettatore/trice </b></div>
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<b>Come l'artista impiega del tempo per pensare e creare un'opera </b></div>
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<b>così il fruitore/trice </b><b>utilizza il proprio tempo e le sue emozioni </b></div>
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<b>per visitare, osservare e capire un'opera.</b></div>
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<b>Vorrei catturare queste emozioni e </b></div>
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<b>per questo alla fine della mostra,</b></div>
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<b>ti consiglio di seguire il mio blog.</b></div>
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<b>Sarà una sorpresa e sarebbe interessante </b></div>
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<b>se nuove idee potessero nascere</b></div>
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<b>da questo </b><b>esperimento.</b></div>
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<b>P.S. leggere attentamente le istruzioni prima dell'uso e tutto sarà più chiaro!</b></div>
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<b>°__° grazie per la partecipazione </b><b>°__°</b></div>
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<b><u>ISTRUZIONI PER L'USO</u>:</b></div>
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<b>sedersi</b></div>
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<b>prendere un mandarino</b></div>
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<b>sbucciarlo</b></div>
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<b>con un gesto rompere un pezzo della buccia</b></div>
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<b>esprimere un desiderio</b></div>
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<b>avvicinarsi alla valigia</b></div>
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<b>lasciare un segno nel grande libro</b></div>
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<b>ed infine prender una busta che si trova nella scatola.</b></div>
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<b>La busta conterrà un regalo di miss ancora</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>||p.s.|||</b><b>solo chi sarà stato paziente a terminare il gioco potrà prendere la busta</b></div>
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<b>°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkH2rXjx5Y5Vx57KoeElwq6WuxEnFsQBJLFhOp6oGRznDXt2_RO59HgiUz0aKbF5Bp-yZB042ePUiTl11woHzbr9FyftqsvGLdi2-5SV4oKyPf_YvY0wjryaYyhVlO-f60-dHsPxXR5nQ/s1600/flyer.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img alt="" border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkH2rXjx5Y5Vx57KoeElwq6WuxEnFsQBJLFhOp6oGRznDXt2_RO59HgiUz0aKbF5Bp-yZB042ePUiTl11woHzbr9FyftqsvGLdi2-5SV4oKyPf_YvY0wjryaYyhVlO-f60-dHsPxXR5nQ/s400/flyer.JPG" title="tobeconceived:curators banu schmidt&karen rumse" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"> outside of the old police station</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6bfFYKPDtynaVEJfbjVJpYNwLI5b2gv1Lkc4ai843l_zCQax0cgaw2wN9b7svTREqy1VBIFnqcbsH7R3g_Z0DiCdZc0eFaxALSNY0KC-qqbX_2zKQbGSr3CHO-LEvw5LvFq6aLPq72lE/s1600/foto_1.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img alt="" border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6bfFYKPDtynaVEJfbjVJpYNwLI5b2gv1Lkc4ai843l_zCQax0cgaw2wN9b7svTREqy1VBIFnqcbsH7R3g_Z0DiCdZc0eFaxALSNY0KC-qqbX_2zKQbGSr3CHO-LEvw5LvFq6aLPq72lE/s400/foto_1.JPG" title="the old police station" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13px;">the old police station, 114-116-amesham vale, london, new cross</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13px;">cell one_cell three_cell four</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;"> MISS ANCHOR</span></b><span style="font-size: x-small;">_<i>installation</i>: this work is part of <i>t</i><b style="font-style: italic;">he boogie souls_project, </b>2013.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> the old police station_TOBECONCEIVED_cell two</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13px;">going to the cell I found this door, close to the old police station. 5_03_2013</span></div>
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wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-28701744787929165582013-03-05T11:47:00.001-08:002013-04-01T03:54:16.644-07:00|||THE BOOGIE SOULS_project|||E così ecco arrivato il giorno per essere concepita,<br />
questo il nome di questa mostra TO BE CONCEIVED,<br />
curata da <span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Banu Schmid and Karen Rumse.</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Il luogo dove si terrà il tutto è interessante,</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">un vecchia stazione di polizia occupata </span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">che si trova</span></span><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"> nella località di <i>Deptford</i>,</span></span><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"> </span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">all'interno del <i>London Borough of Lewisham.</i></span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Quando ho deciso di partecipare a quest'evento,</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">quello che più m'intrigò fu la <i>location</i>, appunto e</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">l'idea che fosse una mostra al femminile.</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Eh si voglio fare i conti con questa cosa,</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">in fondo sono una donna o no?</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Disegno solo donne, praticamente, </span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">anche se poi non è così' vero.</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Molti mi dicono che sono autoreferenziale,</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">che tutto quello che disegno o dipingo somiglia a me,</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">ma questo non è vero, </span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">perché dipende dal tipo di lavoro </span></span><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">che porto avanti. </span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Io sono una di quelle con tanti progetti aperti,</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">non so se sia un bene o un male, ma questo</span></span><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">,</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">con il tempo ho capito essere il mio modo di procedere.</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Se una cosa mi stuzzica non posso lasciarla lì,</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">devo seguirla e capire dove mi porta.</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Certo poi mi do un limite e questo accade quando </span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">mi rendo conto che è giunto il momento di stringere</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">il cerchio e mettere dei puntini.</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">E così questa mostra credo proprio sia importante per me</span></span><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">,</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">perché mi sta permettendo di mettere in scena questo progetto</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">THE BOOGIE SOULS, che da un pò mi ronza nella testa.</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Un quadro, perché mi piace dipingere,</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">ma l'idea di mettere il quadro</span></span><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"> lì tanto per stare, </span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">non mi trasmette più grandi emozioni</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">e così l'installazione</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">trovo sia la soluzione </span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">per mettere </span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">un pizzico </span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">di sale</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"> i</span></span><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">n più.</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Quello che chiedo allo spettatore/trice è di giocare.</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Alla fine dell'atto un regalo e soprattutto chi lascerà</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">un segno nel grande libro vorrei inserilo nel mio blog,</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">quel segno sarà lo spunto per nuovi mondi.</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Quello che sto cercando con questo lavoro</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">è una reazione da parte di chi fruisce</span></span><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">.</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">L'artista impiega del tempo</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"> per pensare un'opera</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">e così il pubblico. </span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Mi piacerebbe raccogliere questo tempo</span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">e le sue emozioni.</span></span><br />
grazie.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_0xFxwSXYGk-4d4xKqHq2Lc1KlTvFxUVUEsmG-WGZzl_JiVyqsF6ILwdsLAtSiMwgE_cx9om9boUqeQLipUHBv4VuBz5P4B8dyPj616P6l9ZyM4BIvU-MpvckYe1eVpe9sG-r0TmL9KE/s1600/suitcase.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_0xFxwSXYGk-4d4xKqHq2Lc1KlTvFxUVUEsmG-WGZzl_JiVyqsF6ILwdsLAtSiMwgE_cx9om9boUqeQLipUHBv4VuBz5P4B8dyPj616P6l9ZyM4BIvU-MpvckYe1eVpe9sG-r0TmL9KE/s400/suitcase.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"> </span></span><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"> </span></span><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"> </span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><i> </i></span></span> <br />
<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-77413983030158870912013-02-26T13:35:00.000-08:002013-02-26T13:46:15.170-08:00SOGNO_REALTA'Devo andare a lavoro mi sveglio tardi.<br />
Sono a londra. <br />
Esco, ah già non sono più a casa mia<br />
adesso vivo da tutt'altra parte,<br />
in una nuova situazione.<br />
Quindi non so bene la strada.<br />
Chiedo qual'è la stazione più vicina,<br />
mi dicino vai di là. <br />
Arrivo in una grande stazione, <br />
ma non vedo nessun cartello.<br />
Chiedo ad un addetto e mi dice di scendere<br />
quelle scale fino in fondo, ne faccio un pezzo,<br />
ma mi semnbra assurdo fare tutta quella strada.<br />
Penso di essere stata presa in giro e così<br />
le risalgo e vedo una rientranza.<br />
C'è una sorta di negozietto, qualcuno è dentro.<br />
Busso alla vetrata, pensando sia chiuso, <br />
ma invece la porta si apre. <br />
Sono tutte ragazze, belle che ridono<br />
e che vendono solo cose realizzate con prodotti<br />
riciclati e anfibi in ecopelle.<br />
Il posto è meraviglioso, perché dall'esterno sembra <br />
un semplice negozio, invece entrando è una casa<br />
con una vista meraviglios, <br />
su una vallata altrettando fanstastica.<br />
Ma io devo andare, e così ci salutiamo<br />
ma prometto di tornarle a trovarle.<br />
Cmq anche le ragazze mi assicurano <br />
che la strada è quella indicata dall'addetto.<br />
Sto per timbrare il biglietto, ma un poliziotto<br />
mi dice di andare con lui e io gli dico:<br />
"ma perché?devo solo prendere la metro"<br />
e lui con tono scocciato e conciso mi dice<br />
di non rompere i coglioni è solo una formalità.<br />
Che merda sempre i solito atteggiamenti arroganti!<br />
Basta avere un cappelletto,<br />
aria risoluta,<br />
una divisa<br />
e il gioco è fatto!<br />
Il solito discorso di chi controlla il controllore.<br />
Finalmente riesco a prendere la metro, <br />
esco e ci sono tafferugli in giro.<br />
La gente è stanca,<br />
già da tempo si sentiva nell'aria odore di rivolta.<br />
Basta con tutte queste promesse,<br />
con i falsi sentimenti,<br />
chi lavora è stanco,<br />
con il tempo le persone sono diventate più consapevoli<br />
e quindi stanche delle stronzate.<br />
La gente sa cosa è giusto e cosa è sbagliato.<br />
Ci sono persone che vogliono sempre di più,<br />
poi cosa?soldi, macchine, case <br />
e tutto questo?<br />
alle spalle di chi cerca di sopravvivere.<br />
Questi sono tutti pensieri che mi passano quando mi accorgo<br />
che la manifestazione sta bloccando Londra.<br />
Chiamo a lavoro, ma nessuno mi risponde.<br />
E mentre sono al telefono ci sono spari in giro,<br />
una pallottola mi sfiora.<br />
Un ragazzo dall'altra parte della strada<br />
mi prende e mi porta dove sono altri manifestanti.<br />
Ma io devo andare.<br />
Chiedo alla ragazza vicina a me <br />
come devo fare per arrivare ad ofxord street.<br />
E' da poco che sono a Londra, appena due anni,<br />
e per conoscerla bene ce ne vogliono almeno cinque.<br />
La ragazza mi dice di andare dritta di là<br />
e prendere la quarta a destra e da lì ci sono.<br />
Scappo per paura di essere presa di nuovo,<br />
mi volto per salutare e il ragazzo che mi prese<br />
è contento perché pensava mi fossi scordata del suo gesto.<br />
La situazione non è affatto tranquilla e così mi allontano.<br />
Arrivo al mare, e anche qui qualcosa di strano.<br />
Come se ci fosse stata una tempesta, <br />
la spiaggia è piena di oggetti,<br />
le persone sono tutte accampate.<br />
C'è chi mangia, chi sistema la sua tenda,<br />
e mentre cerco di capire<br />
mi accorgo di camminare su una montagna di polli squartati.<br />
Inizio a correre,<br />
a piangere,<br />
non capisco cosa stia succedendo.<br />
Ho paura, sono sola, ma nella disperazione vedo qualcosa.<br />
Da lontano quelle ragazze che vendevano scarpe in ecopelle<br />
e oggetti vegetariani. Sono contenta di rincontrarle, <br />
loro mi vedono e mi dicono di venire. <br />
Finalmente facce amiche.<br />
Cosa stava accadendo? In molti se lo chiedevano.<br />
Non erano semplici tafferugli,<br />
le cose stavano cambiando davvero.<br />
E finalmente<br />
tutte le lotte portate avanti<br />
nel corso del tempo,<br />
non erano state vane. <br />
La giustizia prima o poi arriva,<br />
di questo ne sono sempre stata sicura.<br />
Sono stanca, vorrei stare un pò da sola per capire.<br />
Vedo un materasso, chissà di chi era,<br />
quanta storia in quell'oggetto<br />
portato dal mare.<br />
Per fortuna non è bagnato.<br />
Quel giorno il sole stranamente scaldava la perfida Albione<br />
e così mi ci adagio e cado in un sonno profondo. <br />
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p.s. spiaggia di latina_2010 </div>
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<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-67495817156379925082013-01-29T04:19:00.000-08:002013-01-29T04:19:22.349-08:00RUISLIP LIDONon c'è niente da fare nella natura si trovano sempre le risposte<br />
e solo chi non vuole vedere non riesce a trovare.<br />
A volte non sopporto il parlare inutilmente<br />
a volte non sopporto chi non pensa prima di agire<br />
e che cazzo un cervello mi sembre che tutt*lo possediamo<br />
o no?<br />
Si il cuore e la mente spesso si scontrano,<br />
ma basta fermarsi un momento<br />
e pensare.<br />
I famosi dieci secondi<br />
adesso capisco.<br />
tic tac tic tac tic tac tic tac tic tac tic tac<br />
tic tac tic tac tic tac tic tac tic tac tic tac<br />
tic tac tic tac tic tac tic tac tic tac tic tac<br />
tic tac tic tac tic tac tic tac tic tac tic tac<br />
e la sveglia suona non c'è niente da fare<br />
bisogna alzarsi, correre prendere il treno<br />
confrontarsi, scontrarsi, ricollegarsi,<br />
ma a volte è difficile<br />
e così sento il desiderio di isolarmi,<br />
per poter affrontare di nuovo<br />
il traffico di parole e sentimenti<br />
che non si fermeranno mai.<br />
<i>Io sono solo quello che sono un uomo sulla terra di nessuno,</i><br />
lo cantava Militant A tanti anni fa, sarebbe bello se fosse vero,<br />
ma come al solito la realtà si scontra con i fatti e anche se<br />
mi trovo a nascondermi, per un attimo, in un posto così bello<br />
dove per la prima volta vedo due grandi arcobaleni,<br />
penso che se dovessi essere senza documenti e se davvero dovesse accadermi<br />
quello che è accaduto a Viktor Navorski, nel film <i>The Terminal</i>,<br />
imparerei ad agire come si deve e anche se è vero che quando<br />
nasci non puoi più nasconderti, ci sarà un modo per fuggire a chi<br />
detta leggi assurde e a chi non va al di là del proprio naso?<br />
Credo il modo sia solo vivere e dire sempre quello che si pensa.<br />
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<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-82230062517833171112012-12-28T01:57:00.002-08:002012-12-29T01:23:17.288-08:00MEMORIEIl tempo passa e spesso cancella le memorie.<br />
Una continua lotta per ricordare<br />
da dove veniamo, chi siamo e dove stiamo andando.<br />
Sì le solite domande che sembrano a volte non trovare risposte,<br />
quando invece all'improvviso tutto diventa chiaro,<br />
come quella mattina sul lungomare,<br />
quando le carcasse di animali e i resti di oggetti venuti da chissà dove,<br />
sollevarono antichi ricordi e la consapevolezza che nonostante il passato non tornerà,<br />
la sola forza che resta è scavare nelle memorie, per non ricadere negli stessi errori.<br />
Il mare lascia solchi sul terreno, il mare crea grotte, il mare risucchia ogni cosa<br />
e quando fa emergere le sue vittime lo fa senza pietà, le lascia a riva dove<br />
per un attimo sembrano riposarsi, come questa capra o pecora, consumata<br />
dal suo viaggiare e ora stanca di vagare. Ma il suo viaggio non è stato vano,<br />
perché la sua morte sarebbe stata la svolta per creare un solco profondo.<br />
Quel solco che divide chi vuole ricordare e chi fa finta di niente<br />
perché pensa che dalle ceneri non possa nascere nulla.<br />
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<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-9710176143564073542012-05-14T04:32:00.002-07:002013-01-29T02:03:00.306-08:00THERE'S a lot of life INTO THE GARDENAnche in un piccolo spazio si possono creare grandi cose.<br />
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Anche in un piccolo spazio c'è un'infinità di cose da scoprire.</div>
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E così è il giardino della casetta di marzapane.</div>
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<i>A garden full of life to discover and to observe.</i></div>
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<i>At the beginning it was just a forest </i></div>
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<i>where everything seemed a mess,</i></div>
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<i>but if you want you can find an order even in the chaos.</i></div>
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Il giardino è pieno di sorprese</div>
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e dal blu del cielo si possono imparare tante cose,</div>
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come ad esempio prendere spunto per dare colore al grigio </div>
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di una steccionata lasciata marcire solo perché, spesso,</div>
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il trantran della vita quotidiana ci distoglie dal prendersi cura di quello che ci circonda.</div>
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Si ok la vena fricchettona è alle porte, ma in fondo un pò st'hippies avevano ragione,</div>
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è importante sentire il contatto con la natura per capire che siamo parte dell'intero.</div>
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Concetto universale che è meglio fare proprio fin dall'inizio. </div>
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E così il grigio diventa azzurro e gli oggetti emersi dal fondo del giardino </div>
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diventano una scultura/habitat per nuovi esseri che si aggirano.</div>
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<i>Can a snake and a snail become friends?</i></div>
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Possono un serpente e una lumaca diventare amici?</div>
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forse si forse no, sta di fatto che trovano una nuova casa dove condividere nuovi attimi e</div>
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anche se un giorno si divoreranno l'uno con l'altro non importa, </div>
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quello che conta è stato trovarsi e per un attimo sentirsi parte </div>
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del ciclo infinito e ripetitivo del cosmo.</div>
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wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-46301210289459818352012-05-07T09:33:00.002-07:002013-01-29T02:03:44.880-08:00LONDON_CZECH REPUBBLIC_2012 (part two)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ci sono dei momenti in cui il richiamo verso la natura è troppo forte </div>
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e sentire il suo respiro è necessario</div>
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tanto quanto sentire il battito cardiaco.</div>
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E certo è che in repubblica ceca il verde non manca.</div>
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Qui sembra tutto più lucente e vibrante.</div>
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La festa è tra le colline e prati.</div>
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Per arrivare si percorre molta strada e ci arriviamo di sera.</div>
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Si monta la tenda e si inzia a girare tra i tanti sounds sparsi in questo prato collinoso.</div>
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Dopo due giorni si decide di smontare e ritornare a Liberec, un piccolo paesino che vive ancora</div>
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dell'eredità russa, ma proiettatto verso l'odierna occidentalizzazione che impone i suoi classici simboli:</div>
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McDonalds, H&M, burger king.</div>
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Troviamo una pensoncina che forse era una vecchia scuola.</div>
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Ad accoglierci un signore che parla solo ceco e un pò di tedesco. </div>
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Cerco di rispOlverare quel poco che so della lingUa germanica</div>
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e riusciamo a capirci. </div>
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Prendiamo la stanza per 280 corone (circa 12 pounds in due).</div>
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Allo scadere del secondo giorno ci dirigiamo verso Praga dove ci restiamo fino alla fine.</div>
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Ci dirigiamo verso il centro, verso la piazza con il famoso orologio finché non troviamo un vicoletto carino</div>
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con un pub, the white whale e da lì tutto sembra venirci incontro.</div>
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Riusciamo a vedere una mostra spettacolare dei giovani artisti cechi.</div>
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E' un'opera ad attirare lo sguardo:</div>
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GUNS di David Cérny.</div>
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Quattro pistole, rivolte l'una contro l'altra,</div>
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sospese nel cortile di questo palazzo seicentesco.</div>
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In un mondo impossessato dalla guerra, c'è solo un modo per sconfiggerla:</div>
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allenarsi come fa il cristo ginnasta che si tieni con due anelli e si allena per riportare la pace.</div>
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Allenarsi all'amore non è certo un gioco facile.</div>
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L'esibizione si disloca in quattro sezioni.</div>
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Facciamo il biglietto e iniziamo il giro. </div>
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Installazioni, pittura, scultura.</div>
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THE ART IS A BUSINESS.</div>
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Questa è l'opera che apre il tutto.</div>
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A macchinetta automatica che invece di servire <i>drink and food</i></div>
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serve bombolette, pennarelli e colori.</div>
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Tutto è arte e chiunque può inventare, creare, distruggere.</div>
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Certo è che quello che non si può vendere è la passione.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdk-mwZ3d6lPR6r2lVKSMXLEgyjp5BPaTlZkW_QOd5UKGZpuK7D4nIYeaKqlETyWYZqa2SFtSh14GSf01qAJYGqYQjQEeqeK9PRaXJXigbe2ohKXrAWSWO_sGyECP49bg4UdVoRShgni4/s1600/020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdk-mwZ3d6lPR6r2lVKSMXLEgyjp5BPaTlZkW_QOd5UKGZpuK7D4nIYeaKqlETyWYZqa2SFtSh14GSf01qAJYGqYQjQEeqeK9PRaXJXigbe2ohKXrAWSWO_sGyECP49bg4UdVoRShgni4/s640/020.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MoYA:museum of young art (PRAGA)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319405405297761321.post-78070455716587130502012-05-03T02:26:00.000-07:002013-01-29T02:04:03.861-08:00LONDON_CZREPUBLIC (part one)<br />
<i>JAHODA FREE PARTY this is not the name of party, </i><br />
<i>but jahoda is the only word that I learned in czech!!!</i><br />
<i>jahoda means stawberry </i><br />
jahoda significa fragola<br />
La festa dura cinque giorni, per arrivarci si prende la metro fino al capolinea dall'aereoporto<br />
di praga e poi da lì un auto (un'oretta) e poi un treno che ondeggia tra le colline ceche e ci porta<br />
tutt* a Cérnousy, frazioncina tra prati e collinette.<br />
Si cammina un pò con la musica che va e dopo una piccola salitella tra i boschi si apre la festa.<br />
Ci accampiamo e come animaletti iniziamo ad annusare l'ambiente.<br />
Rincontriamo il sound del PLUG-IN festival di Brno dello scorso anno.<br />
E poi tanti altri sounds.<br />
Austriaci, cechi, tedeschi, francesi.<br />
Strane cose accadono in quei giorni.<br />
Strani oggetti avvistiamo nel cielo e la festa diventa UFOPARTY!!!<br />
C'è uno vento deciso e i colori sembrano più vividi del solito.<br />
In Repubblica ceca il magnetismo è forte e i colori sono più vividi.<br />
L'idea è di restare fino alla fine, ma qualcosa ci suggerisce di andare<br />
e così il viaggio prende un'altra piega.<br />
<i>So this is the first part of the trip!!!</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Bqkeryk1pFl7yKbVo52u2xOpDg94SKPHajWgF3ptKtENSbsXPtx2xKavO7VMpGrS-N9s9m6NbaMf0Lc_r-aW9n4zmU2rpOx15xngNeD5BLfAIHC2PrpNZ7aplTDl80pQ5uLs1dmkm3g/s1600/czarotek2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Bqkeryk1pFl7yKbVo52u2xOpDg94SKPHajWgF3ptKtENSbsXPtx2xKavO7VMpGrS-N9s9m6NbaMf0Lc_r-aW9n4zmU2rpOx15xngNeD5BLfAIHC2PrpNZ7aplTDl80pQ5uLs1dmkm3g/s640/czarotek2012.jpg" width="230" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(flyer party)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkLM7ARCI0dz7gIw8sA37SlShBhbakXh7BivZErSm4Lb_tEmMKVqp_rwCtzXmPg8TDQutK1iqHEU94aWjv3XNhnc1JafmrihW8TjqN1mJSzYEXk4PSwHlLyKkfLQE2OisACpn19HkJQS0/s1600/1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkLM7ARCI0dz7gIw8sA37SlShBhbakXh7BivZErSm4Lb_tEmMKVqp_rwCtzXmPg8TDQutK1iqHEU94aWjv3XNhnc1JafmrihW8TjqN1mJSzYEXk4PSwHlLyKkfLQE2OisACpn19HkJQS0/s400/1.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ziclin (linea B)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqWQYeoY-Oc0f2x6ZL1hYk_k2cNjNr1zcqvqdkN3iTA-hcJiRzWn5NSvtNN3Aphtqk2GUY86txNwdVDGaSpckKNg9O1pjJMcbT7lMBOpLrzubCnIHwKnpL3uctJ1KYHJqZbyFM1qKul58/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqWQYeoY-Oc0f2x6ZL1hYk_k2cNjNr1zcqvqdkN3iTA-hcJiRzWn5NSvtNN3Aphtqk2GUY86txNwdVDGaSpckKNg9O1pjJMcbT7lMBOpLrzubCnIHwKnpL3uctJ1KYHJqZbyFM1qKul58/s400/3.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cerny most (linea B)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ih62Dt4nWZMC664ppuQ4Z13CHeqkruxueBXk_g_otBwZcsBueDchgNM2q3gqySttGNn7uPcrAH4dXkduy4Wx8BEaFlqauSQlBdQiy1b_V8vYYWkZelVQKrh5UcfPf9D8AtHnktkAXTA/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ih62Dt4nWZMC664ppuQ4Z13CHeqkruxueBXk_g_otBwZcsBueDchgNM2q3gqySttGNn7uPcrAH4dXkduy4Wx8BEaFlqauSQlBdQiy1b_V8vYYWkZelVQKrh5UcfPf9D8AtHnktkAXTA/s400/4.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cerny most (linea B)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7SLJcVKgMaa3PX6aOpbzHe-AIjX6cH8p7Jlv-5MKnJc_X4z3sYYk4FAy78C75q1f7aS7nfTreHWo5j2PnHeD-x1ajT7taZ-kk3f6LAPDIGg4k90knt_Dp4XMuH2I4QNFIJqmPOavRdNU/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7SLJcVKgMaa3PX6aOpbzHe-AIjX6cH8p7Jlv-5MKnJc_X4z3sYYk4FAy78C75q1f7aS7nfTreHWo5j2PnHeD-x1ajT7taZ-kk3f6LAPDIGg4k90knt_Dp4XMuH2I4QNFIJqmPOavRdNU/s400/5.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cerny most (linea B)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHnCBg6cU-o_BAx8n4rzf_NNUg1iHB-l7zl05rWH82NNuKXcJ_HaOepqECIIAL_9nBWW4ql6u5UYPFFgaiMny3Fq4by6pZAJmJCtZkP5oZhrW_FvHONJOTF9TrbMIb10lNEOBTFe7OoYE/s1600/6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHnCBg6cU-o_BAx8n4rzf_NNUg1iHB-l7zl05rWH82NNuKXcJ_HaOepqECIIAL_9nBWW4ql6u5UYPFFgaiMny3Fq4by6pZAJmJCtZkP5oZhrW_FvHONJOTF9TrbMIb10lNEOBTFe7OoYE/s400/6.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cerny most (linea B)
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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wonderbarbeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07530054550914306249noreply@blogger.com