dissolving squares

walking in any kind of day, moving ourselves from a point to somewhere...
it is funny to wonder when you feel your body so heavy in sunday afternoon what does it make it move... i was scrolling in a dazy paris afternoon through some pictures from seoul and i was playing this game:





the orange lady (?) , i think she is brought around by her eyes , she is pulled by her look through the meanders of markets and alleys , she is surely going to make it home

these two are certainly pulled by something less physical, one portable phone maybe, one is already talking the other one probably is probably reharsing the last call (or maybe just thinking about his fiancée), anyway they seem just to be passing there and their thoughts floating in the air above...

these two , well i cannot see them , i think they have an old story and just bring the memories around .... i think it is the weight of their head that brings them around, to shed the tiny particles of their memories around so they can become less dense , that is how pictures turn to sepia and paper so thin , everything ages, beautifully

well this one is certainly pulled by her sharp , amazing dashing beautiful nails and long fingers, so harmonious and made to cut throgh the summer air that the energy they have waves back to the rest of the body and opens up that captivating smile

run rabbit run , i cannot tell, maybe she is just thinking what am i doing for dinner tonite ???

winter light

there is something peculiar in the winter light;
so short and so precious, this pure dash of blue and white ,
so unerringly bearable by the eye ,

I secretly wish it washes pure all the exertions from past falling,
the hard labour of falling into a sleepy winter night ,
not so easy to do in the end to skin off the summer heat and to wrinkle to winter

and then finally this pure light comes in and like an aseptic lazer it seems to want to
clear off the warm nights under the duvets and the effort of hiding inside them

and a new brisky warmth comes along and makes you glow in these still short days 

where noon looks like a sunset and the light gold trickles everywhere and drips out of the stones and the asphalt 

short blinks of the eyes to stir to the fake heat of this sun , a moment more and it will be spring 

even in the ice of the concrete springs seems to remember her dates

december in rome

 from the tazza d'oro advertising (70's)


and from another advertising some years before...

when i was about to take this
 a woman was crossing the street and fell down , she was quite shocked and was blabbering that she felt as if she had been thrown down it was her ex boyfriend mother that had some kind of "power" ... and that she was going to pray  ...
well i do not say anything, but i think that sometimes there is some easier explanation, like those huge heels ...

 via nazionale just few days before Xmas

this exquisite and unfortunately dark (sorry) preraffaellite fresco is from the episcopal church
it has some pretty beautiful masterpieces in preraffaellite style , which is quite refreshing in a city like rome...
eventhough the faces depicted profuse a divine elegance and dignity but not the same type of slumber from the round posters above...
well preraffaellite girls did not seem to need coffee to get nerves... but this is a very partial view from a southern westerner

a blue sky from rome, it is not like the northern sky so delicate and transparent that could be pierced by the light itself or shattered to pieces by a thunder : 

the sky is full of blue that you could pluck some blue stretching your hands... funny i have never tried before , maybe i could have put it in my napkin an in a pocket, funny again is that true dreams are undared 

if somebody could explain what lavander has to do with rome pr with christmas time : it does not really matter , i do not think that the street of rome have ever bothered about political correctedness, not even , and above all not even , when the pope was ruling them...

dusting off the trademark :

nearby campo de fiori, the human comedy of taxi and garbage and all of us around ; all of us...

and this is near the trastevere, in a quite forgotten square off via dei giubbonari ... a homeless guy takes time to read, i think so
you could still hear the kora from via giubbonari played by Malik
the people walking the street do not change , they are always the same trying to live off some laughs given to shoppers and shopkeepers, one could say that only fashion changes and the smiles, the blink of smartness and wit in these street performers of music and tricks are quite the same... hidden under the first layer of crowd around, they could go unnoticed but when the night gently falls , they glitter for few seconds and you can spot those contagious folly, infectious hunger for life and the minute that just behind the next corner, like the stars that you spot for few minutes when they pierce the sky , and few minutes later you already grow accustomed. thay have always been there , haven't they ?

 evening time to stroll and go home

 of course the next one could not be missed

almost night now, the birds above rome are drawing sketches in the sky, all together they cross merge and play with the dimensions, they are so many of them up there and they master beautifully and swiflty the air that hitchcock would simply have had a heart attack.