Good morning to those who

Big snow feb 2015   sink into this wild never-ending daylight;

Big snow feb 2015

breathlessly run, always expecting to stumble upon a wolf or a fox. A fairy, if only.

Big snow feb 2015

dance in the clearing or run after fireflies among the bushes, crazy for love;

Big snow feb 2015

never forget the transit of a fallen star;

Big snow feb 2015

while the morning moon is crumbling down,

Big snow feb 2015

stopping her futile wandering

 

Big snow feb 2015

to shape to my feeling, eventually.

 

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Seneca on friendship

Seneca wrote Lucillo a letter on Hecate and friendship:

.. Let me tell you what I like about Hecate on friendship. “Are you asking me” he said “about my progress? I’ve started being friend with myself.” He made a lot of progress...  such a friend is always at hand.

Merry Christmas to all our friends

(and to their friends, so)

Laura & JJ

Accessories Legatoria Koiné
Merry Christmas! (accessories Legatoria Koinè)

Adverse reactions

The Circus is visiting the suburbs:

a red and white stripe tent stands still,

the wide open mouth of a child.

 

There’s a bit of poetry around;

when the soul gets out of the inside, it happens sometimes,

once in a while.

 

Under the same off-white light

someone is running away, not far from here

others are having such a fun.

Milan, Italy 2014
Milan, Italy 2014

#14

 

Fil rouge

A gentle roll-off. The moribund sea erodes the foundations. This town is exhausting.

Buildings float like slabs, chased by the winds;

the room is filled with dust and anxiety.

A voice is altering the stillness: bitter, sharp.

(Friendship among artists is frail, when based on aesthetic theories).

Sixty art pieces. And nothing. Neither a shelter nor a shrine, a prison, a nightmare, a hole in the ground to tell where the journey will end!

Light’s too yellow to argue like this, at the window

the sun is touching the sea, getting its temperature.

where the journey will end

The picture in the frame, a beach in Stromboli, heads on the sand. A tepid smile.

No, indeed. Not even here, but

I didn’t know we were lost.

Venice - Italy
Venice – Italy

# 11