Ephemeris that shall be named. Last day today. Wandering then. I contemplate, randomly walk like Stendhal did two centuries ago, let be moved by life’s chances, don’t try to make a story out of it. I don’t even have a name for today! I, who love so much the poetry of a title… It would … More Roman Holiday – DAY 10
Neighborhood. Roman neighborhoods are lazy after mid-August. Out of the centro città. Standing for the true Roman soul. Rising with a Bella ciao. Streets are empty, shops show their iron curtain. Annual closure, open in three days, in a week. Meanwhile, hot walls are sleeping. Romans has left to the sea, to the mountain. To Tuscany … More Roman Holiday – DAY 9
Astral Chorus. Energies unwind, sweep down my heart like a hurricane, like a sea storm. Once again without notice. Without lying. They take advantage of Via della Conciliazione’s width, where my wanderings just unleashed me, they sharpen their tsunami and swallow me up in order to raise my soul. They both blind ans stick me … More Roman Holiday – DAY 8
White Dreams. For a couple of days, in a – vain, since I have to go with a mask anyway – attempt to escape the heat, I take shelter in the museums’ marbled coolness. Or should I say Palaces? For they are true princess castles that, besides being living proof of endless Time and Art, … More Roman Holiday – DAY 7
Smell. Rome is beautiful, Rome is a historian earthquake, Rome is a space out of time and reality. Rome is mesmerizing, but tonight, Rome is only one thing: Rome stinks. To be true, it is not only tonight, but tonight, it strangleholds my breath, my nose and my stomach. Tonight, added to my sore feet, … More Roman Holiday – DAY 6
Shadow and light. To Flore. For the last few years, if my wanderings flew me to Italy, I seek for Artemisia Gentileschi’s paints. I want to see her pieces in “flesh and blood” so I might glimpse at her obsession, so I might breathe her passionate colors, so I might sink into her violent stories. … More Roman Holiday – DAY 5
From the infinitesimal to the infinitely great. Today again, the Dolce Vita is fooling me. Any action takes its own time and teaches me patience. Roman minutes are not the same than anywhere else. All the better… I like more and more being wandered throughout narrow and shadowed meanders. Brushed by ocher and leafy walls. Flown … More Roman Holiday: DAY 4
Anita. Her child in her arms, breathless but full of bravery, Anita was galloping like she was flying. She was running for her child’s sake, for her own immortality; she was running for the liberty of people who weren’t hers but that she called her own, weren’t they all citizens of the world fighting for … More Roman Holiday – DAY 3
The old man and the parrot. I shut the door of the apartment Via Pigneto as first morning hours ring. I would like to avoid the heat, I would like to avoid the crowd. I hope to gaze at white marble fountains stripped from the touristic amazement. Already too late though, Fountain of Trevi gets … More Roman Holiday – DAY 2
The Garden of the Vestals. Monday. Lunedi. Lundi. It is the day of the Moon and I am standing, under the sun at its highest, above eternal lands. I wander along Roman Empire’ s ruins and I am only thinking about the burning sun, about drops of sweat in my back. I am only thinking … More Roman Holiday – DAY 1
Fleeting Wor(l)ds 