The story peddler #1

Selling stories is a job for crazy fellows. I’m not insane, I just sell my stories door-to-door. Rather, I tell them.

Like any other worker I face good or bad days. Like any other worker I have to be smart and intuitive. Intuition is a must, indeed. It plays the most relevant role. That’s what makes me choose between a whatever “Mr. Carinci” or any “Falpalàs ”doorbell.

Choosing the right story is even harder, if possible.  Something weird happens every time a door unlocks and someone shows up. Standing on the doorstep, for a little moment, everything around me gets black. I feel as if sunk into the void. Then is the light again. Like a vigorous pearl diver, I come up with a brand new story.

I sell words. At a good price. I allow your warm heart to state their value. I trust you.

Buying stories is a job for crazy fellows.


It's fime for sunflowers!

The legend of the sunflower

What an eccentric guy! One day, no one knows why, he decided to capture the four seasons. But, every time he tried to negotiate the terms with the sun, he ended his days, head bowed, counting the grass blades around his feet.

A journal for each story: Wrap leather journal with long lace

We call it Medioevalis. A long lace gently embraces the journal and the words it treasures. Many sizes, with or without marbled paper boards.

Wrap leather journal with long lace.



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)

How many viewers?

A windy morning, a piece of paper

is fluttering about

I’ll catch it.


Lying on the love altar,

I offer myself to the enchantment of pain

poor, fated, unheard.


So Fellinian.. baroque enough to let

any adverb changing the whole: I’ll go for happily,

somewhere before lying or offer, or later, to frustrate the triad.


Some kind of failure drove him crazy, I guess.

A movie, a flop, the eleventh line:

I’m an awful lover, but still love better than you.

God, take the voice away of him. The plot is weak.


The Maestro had a clear base of judgment: boredom.

Well, keep that feeling for yourself!  He would have shouted.

As far as I’m concerned,

I’ll hold you off!


Zero viewers.

Vertical wood, Milan - Italy
“Vertical wood”, (building project) Milan – Italy

# 12


This shadowy and labyrinthine town has swallowed the entire human consortium, I said.

It sounds like a chorus spinning around a unique emotional state. Voices and cries overfilling the streets, rolling  down at dawn and returning upstream at twilight

with a load of bitterness, pain

and courage.


A few days after the new dock opening ceremony, a large ship entered and two girls got off.

I noticed them because I’ve been trafficking with numbers, mostly

strings of two units at a time that I combine, pile up or split in grids to contrast their power,

(with the automorphic numbers, I almost touched the abstraction)

Then, because I feel lonely in this life made of non-empty sets.


They looked good: wide eyes, open mouths, tiny bodies and a nicety at any cost that made it all so genuine and fresh. Of that day, that signed the apex of my communication skill to the human gender, I keep a photo.  My nose is asymmetric. Look.

I never realized that.

I can’t stop thinking of it.


I’m a grown-up – even now -, bent on my numbers and framed by the artificial light, like a chorister in an orthodox church, a goldsmith in his father workshop or an alchemist, carefully stirring the Leonardo’s bistre.

My lovers have hung their clothes here and there. They swing spontaneously, nodding at me, dissenting at me, making fun of me, of my doggedly returning to these

refuge assets.

In the fog (waiting for Springtime) - Apennines (Italy)
Low clouds (waiting for Springtime) – Apennines (Italy)

# 9