Windmills Jungle

9.13.2015

Laura Loves: Decalogo di Gusti e Preferenze

A Laura piace: Introspettiva

cambiare, come cambiare la lingua in cui scrivo o parlo giocando a rincorrere il verbo perfetto, sia esso in inglese o in italiano, perchè si, #leparolesonoimportanti, così come ciò che si indossa dunque pensiamo a come parliamo, compriamo vestiti e cambiamo(ci) spesso;
sottolineare un libro con il righello, cercando di dare un senso ad un percorso di studi che arranca ma che rappresenta la persona che voglio diventare e non quella che devo essere per portare a casa lo stipendio a fine mese;
lasciare il fondino del caffè, un ultimo sorso che scelgo di lasciare ai postumi, vuoi perchè il caffè si è freddato ed io principessa (aspirante) nacqui, vuoi perchè nessuno ti servirà mai la quantità di caffè di cui necessiti in quel preciso istante, nemmeno tu stessa. un sorso di troppo di caffè rovina il rito del caffè;
criticare, esercitare senso critico, esprimere opinioni e, volendo dirla tutta, finanche giudicare - diritto o forse anche dovere di cui mi sento trionfalmente investita e che manifesto nel dire ciò che penso e pensare ciò che voglio (pappappero);
studiare, persone, cose, eventi, nozioni - per un desiderio di conoscere e per la narcisistica volontà di essere una persona che sa molto, sa dire, fare, essere e stare;
fotografare: abbandonare una opprimente prosaicità del reale per catturare un momento di altezza, per rincorrere il sublime, non dico per elevare un frammento di tempo all'eternità, ma quantomeno per conquistarlo al ricordo.

(to be continued)

5.30.2015

4.12.2015

4.11.2015

3.09.2015

Spend it all.

Spend.

Spend words.

Spend thoughts.

Do not accept to live on the surface.

Use all your energy to elaborate, to create, to make it extremely complicated.

Forget the "keep it simple".

Everything can be simple, still you can live it deeply and intensively.

Complicated means alive.

Make questions. Lots of.

Ask yourself difficult questions.

Force yourcelf on the long and winding path.

The steep climb gets to the heights.

Make it impossible to fall asleep late at night.

Impossible to close your eyes.

Impossible to neglet, to forget all the question marks hunting your mind.

Be inconvenient and say what you think.

Dare think what you really want to think.

Make it tough to wake up and smile.

Ask why.

Ask again. And again.

Seek truth. Accept the rarity of truth. Never give up looking for it.

Wear a mask, every day, and pretend to be a simple person.

Do not even think for a moment to become one.

Do not put yourself on sale.

2.21.2015

Mumble mumble..

A giant spiderweb, that's what everything is in the end.

A world of connections.

Everything linked to everything, nothing isolated, nothing for itself.

I've been trying hard and long to build my isolation. At least enought to understand that I can't help it.

I need to start working on my branches, to get them strong and willing for height.

Webs, branches, strings.

A labyrinth.

Actually, I've never been too keen to get lost in giant labyriths.

But that's what life is turning out to be, so I need to learn my way out.

I just hope time will be on my side.

2.08.2015

"She had the perpetual sense, as she watched the taxi cabs, of being out, out, far out to sea and alone; she always had the feeling that it was very, very, dangerous to live even one day.”
― Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway

1.31.2015

Torn Curtain in NYC

1.25.2015

The Cage of Freedom

From the very first moment you step foot in NYC you can feel it:

The place can actually swallow you in one bite. No time to think, to hesitate, to realise.

No way you can run, hide, or find a way to feel safe.

This city is going to eat you, anyway. Fecth you and put you behind golden bars of freedom and endless possibilities.

It's not only the blinding lights, the skyscrapers or the feeling that all the human beings of the world have gathered in that very street with you.

It's its air.

It's the smoke, coming out from the drains, reflected by those shining towers.

You are finally walking the streets of New York City.

It's been your dreams from years.

You're walking in a dream:

It feels so like the movies,

Still it also feels so unreal.

And, as in all good dreams, you also feel you don't belong there.

Not a new yorker. Everyone can see this.

The irritating feeling of being out of place.

Then why am I also feeling so at home?

I fit in.

Isn't this obvious?

I want to stay here.

Then why am I missing home so much?

"Did you like it?

Would you live there? " -

"Loved it.

But I think I couldn't live there. Not now.

It's a cage.

A cage of freedom.

You feel free, but you are in a cage.

The fact is that you get addicted to the city.. once in, you don't know how on earth it would be possible to live anywhere else.

It's a cage. Once in, even if the doors are open, you don't want to get out".

11.18.2014

Boom Boom

There's this thing about explosions: you never really expect them.

You can wait for a bunch of good explosions for a very long time, still they always catch you by surprise.

You're just there, in your smiling world with your ordinary life.

You actually wonder when the next boom is going to be heard..

I't been a while, there's too much silence, too much peace in the air..

You almost give up waiting for it.

Then all of a sudden, when you less expect it, the sky gets darker and darker. Finally the shining shimmering lights turn down and the numbness and lethargy of you soul are broken, like fallen idols.

The rumble of the thunder, the boom of the detonation:

you finally wake up.

You finally see everything and everyone's true colours.

There's this thing about a silent soul shattered by a thunder,

A dark sky torn in two by a light explosion..

You get wounded. But you also get stronger.

8.15.2014

Bonifacio and Its Explosions

11.15.2014

Second star to the right, and straight on till morning.

Les Deux Plateaux, more commonly known as the Colonnes de Buren

Cour d'Honneur of the Plais Royal, Paris.

11.03.2014

All the World's a Stage

Life Without Art is Stupid.
Paris, October 2014.
With two precious friends.

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then, the whining school-boy with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then, a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden, and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then, the justice,
In fair round belly, with a good capon lined,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws, and modern instances,
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything".
W. Shakespeare

11.02.2014

Promises are made to be broken.

I promised I would write.I promised I would find something to tell, to describe, to express.
I promised I would be in touch.
I broke my promise.
But a lot happened and I just felt I had to simply live it. Experience it. Feel it. Evetually I would start to write again.
It worked: I am happy.

But where is my life now?
I am with my Sir. And I couldn't ask for anything or anyone better.
I have more shoes. But they are never enough.
I have the same friends, but they are closer than ever, more precious than ever.
I have been to Corse and to Paris.
I am spending my Christmas holidays in NYC...
I realised I am a material Italian girl, who seeks a British attitude and dreams American dreams.

I realise I don't want to do anything I am not willing to do. And I won't.
I am currently a fan of House of Cards and I could die for a new episode from the Sherlock series.
And I am not ashamed of that.
In my car there is always a song by Beyonce. Sorry, again not ashamed.
At the same time I now know that nothing really calms me down as a cloudy sky when I'm hiking in my mountains. That I just need a book and a coffee in a silent place to feel myself, to feel happy. That the best hotel of the world is the tent with my Sir under the stars, close to the sea. That what makes me alive is not the dinner in the ultimate chic restaurant, but my thirst for knowledge and my curiosity.
Two faces, one free soul.
I despise people who always need to put me into a category.
And if you do not know who I am or how I am ... I could'nt care less.

I have an idea.

This blog - four hands.

Two dreamers sharing the same dreams.

Cooperating yes, but also watching the same mad world from two different points of view.

WindmillsJungle is now all pictures, nonsense, and (my) happy - still - cynical - and - skeptical attitude.

It may lack a touch of color. Innovation. Inspiration.

..... A formal invitation is on its way.

Time for a new blogger?

5.06.2014

Constellations

First pics with my new camera...

What does silence look like?!

Still seeking words to express what's inside. In vain.

Let flowers speak for me, for themselves.

And choose silence.

4.25.2014

Sips for a New Beginning

It's been a while...

Actually it's been more than two months since my last post.

A lot has happened.

A lot has changed.

And, as it often happens, I preferred to choose silence over a dozen of empty words.

My whole life has turned into some cahotic frenetic stressful overwhelming race against time, with two jobs and a university course I'm not taking care of (or at least not as much as I would like to).

My cat left and my heart broke into thousands of little desperate pieces..

Then he came back, and I really felt overjoyed.

My bestfriend left and my heart cracked. But it did not broke, since I was and still am really happy for her.

Then she graduated and I felt overjoyed once more. proud of having her in my life.

My Sir proved to be a perfect gentleman more than once, and my heart has never been so full of love before.

My camera died, but I am now 26 years old and my wonderful beloved parents celebrated me with a shining brand new Nikon 5200 reflex camera.

Yes, it's true.

And this is it: Out of the blue, on the most important holiday day for this country,

My inspiration simply came back to me.

I feel tired and worried. But I feel passionate once again.

And grateful.

“You have a grand gift for silence, Watson. It makes you quite invaluable as a companion.” ― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Complete Sherlock Holmes.

1.27.2014

Waiting for Godot (in Siena)

"Well? Shall we go?" - "Yes, let's go".

"They do not move."

Sundays are difficult. Something like a tragicomedy by Samuel Beckett.

It can be hard to have all that free time, and really don't know what to do with it.

Sometimes you find yourself with a whole sunday-day to use,

and the only thing you can do is wondering and wandering,

with indecision,

... waiting for Godot.

"Let us not waste our time in idle discourse! (Pause. Vehemently.) Let us do something while we have the chance! It is not every day that we are needed. Not indeed that we personally are needed. Others would meet the case equally well, if not better. To all mankind they were addressed, those cries for help still ringing in our ears! But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late! Let us represent worthily for once the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us!"

Waiting for Godot by S. Beckett

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

1.26.2014

“There is no confusion like the confusion of a simple mind…”

Gatsby 20s Illegal Party at Rivalta Cafè in Florence.

For a few hours, back to the roaring twenties!

"And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dreams must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter—to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther...

And one fine morning...

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Do you ever feel like you were born in the wrong age?

Since the movie has been released, everyone has been falling in love with Gatsby and the Roaring Twenties.

Truth is that only a few people actually know what "The Great Gatsby" is about.

F. S. Fitzgerald managed to describe how our current society would look like..

A cahos of excess, vice, powerful dreams and hope.

"The Great Gatsby" is about hope.

About our very hopes and illusions.

About the elegance we lost.

Tips:

"The Beautiful and Damned" and "Tales of the Jazz Age" by F. S. Fitzgerald

1.24.2014

Let's Find a Quite Place to Read.

Intruder in the Library.

National Central Library, Florence.

1.22.2014

Walking North

..Feeling the wind on our faces..

Yes, it was summer, but we were close to Cape Wrath.

The sea was the guardian of all rainbow colors and shadows.

The Scottish sky had tons of clouds, wandering around like our thoughts.

The grass was dancing, light and happy,

as well as our hearts.

Walking North through the Highlands.

Walking North as a State of Mind.

No filters, No photoshop :)

1.21.2014

Made (and drunk) in Italy!


Thanks to Mary&Ettore - Super Friends

If I say "made in Italy", what do you think I'm talking about?

Handbags? Shoes? The latest collection by Gucci?

Wrong.

I'm actually talking about something much more precious.

....Wine :)

You take your made-in-somewhere car,

Leave the city centre with all its noise, pidgeons and expensive useless but "cool" shops (made in China - for the record),

Switch your cell (and brain) off,

And decide to get lost..

Yes,

You actually have to get lost. Better with some really good friends.

Drive around those marvellous hills, enjoying silence and peace.

All of a sudden you find yourself in Wine Wonderland:

It is called Capezzana..

A die-for place, great food, and

a world champion vin santo

(Yep, it means Saint Wine, guess why??)

You made it: you found the "made in Italy" heaven.

Let them think that the best and coolest things in Florence are Pitti and Luisa Via Roma.

http://www.capezzana.it/

(A Small Short Sad Thought:

My Nikon is actually on its way to ReflexHeaven. I didn't have the heart to take her to Capezzana and watch me drink all that delicious wine.

She wants to die at home.

In the meantime, as you can see, I am using an Iphone to take my pics... Yes, I know: simply shameful.

Let's hope I become rich quite quickly and can afford a good replacement!)

Pagine