And it is during one of my melancholic mood, thanks to the weather and the emotion of the latest piece added to the collage of my dream yesterday in milan …. that I stop, I think, and then I write.
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Ed è in uno di questi miei stati un po’ malinconici, complice il tempo e l’emozione del pezzetto aggiunto al collage del mio sogno ieri a Milano….che mi fermo, penso e così scrivo.
This morning the sky was gray and the air wet.
The low temperature and the angora sweater colored as the sky in November in contact with bare skin.Thoughts are pungent, sometimes muffled and blurred.
A few bold notes. The leaves of a tree which is going to loose its leaves. The reflection of the buildings in the water of the canal. The train, which was taking me home.
But then I’m wondering where the home is, again?!? Maybe the one where you spend time wearing a t-shirt and bare feet wrapped in a duvet.
Where the cake is in the oven. The tea smells like cinnamon and candle makes the atmosphere warm.
I want to write, but not to think. I want to be in fashion, but not to buy, this time. I want to put together black and white, color on color, drawings and photos above written under my universe.
At the moment I feel like suspended – in a transition phase and I wonder “how much am I willing to spend on what I want?”.
And you, have you ever thought about that?
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