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
It is only fair that after sketching a little piece of French Alps, I went for some reunions with my own natal mountains, French Pyrénées, and this, in such good company since this short journey was the occasion for some time spent with my dad.We had chosen, as starting point for our improvised divagations, Fontagente Ponds … More An escape to French Pyrénées
I left my adopted Cathars for three days and three nights in order to breath some fresh air and visit my favorite Savoy Healer! The Triplets of Belleville missed a third wheel to their tandem but what a beautiful mountain! I got a shot of French Alps in about 2 shakes of a lamb’s tail, … More A Detour to French Alps
Silence. Emptiness. Gone. Then they are gone. And I stay. It has been such a long time since I have been the one staying. Silence. Emptiness. Melancholia. Oh, this weight on my stomach, I know it so well. It reminds me of other departures, of other absences. It is so hard to be the one … More Frozen Wanderer: DAY 0
Hopes DAY 46 Yesterday, I hit the road beyond authorized fields. Almost. I had to empty my storage box, where I pilled up all my treasures before my grand journey almost a year ago. I took them all from the box to a car or a truck, and from the car or the truck to a garage … More Frozen Wanderer: Week 7-8
Insurrection DAY 29 Yesterday, “Big Macron” talked, awaking bitterness in my heart, lighting up my anger and each bomb with which I would like to blow up the system. But he mostly heightened my fears, fear nothing will ever change after, fear we’ll go back to the world of before because we have fallen asleep … More Frozen Wanderer: Week 5-6
Frozen wanderer, I am looking into the world throughout my window. I am gazing at snails perfectly happy whilst I am locked down, whilst I am quarantined. How do I envy this snails’ race, how I would like to move in slow motion in the rain ; my immensity to be a little fence, my happiness to be a Spring tear. … More Snail’s slow-motion Waltz
Hunting Eggs and worries DAY 24 My heart has ran into my tears. Since I heard the nurse’s voice on the radio this morning. Since that weekly minute when, on my way to vineyards, I connect to the real world through radio waves. My breath has been taken away. Since I heard the nurse saying … More Frozen Wanderer: Week 4
