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rope ' A drowned

In Bologna, these days, there was the exhibition of artistic things, which are so called because it should be at least a little more beautiful than normal. The type that if you just sit on a chair you notice, even normal, while in a chair almost artistic you mind sitting down, that there we are matters of beauty and values \u200b\u200bthat are added to the surface.

fact my sister on the chairs that are transparent and artistic I almost never put down, I rather sit on the couch. And then my back does not like transparency, and above all the beauty uncomfortable.

Oh, I'll be hurt, but all this beauty, there at the fair, I have not seen. Yes, someone, but just a few. E 'lacks sincerity. Background lacks the sincerity and thus the depth. And the things that are on the surface are a little bitter, usually.

Also the last time I was in Venice, where there was this thing that is the Biennale of Architecture, era più sincero il fuori che il dentro. E per fuori intendo la città di Venezia, e nello specifico l’Arsenale e le Corderie.

Ecco, un edificio bello come le Corderie mi lascia sempre stupefatto e poi, se penso che li dentro ci facevano le corde per le navi, capisci anche che c’è della profondità in un edificio così, che far le corde con perizia per secoli non è mica una roba da poco. Sì, con i miei amici abbiamo discusso delle cose organiche di Calatrava o degli interventi di Rafael Moneo alla Giudecca ma così, per dire. Mica perchè ci credevamo veramente. E poi non c’era nemmeno un plastico degli architetti che secondo me fan le cose belle.

E allora mi sono stancato presto, and since there were some passages in the Arsenal in the water, and on this journey there were panels of the projects, I entered this path, then at the bottom of trenches there were lumps of wood and I We are sitting on it. And there was a view from those cubes indescribable, that embraced everything in the water from the Arsenal. Then came a young lady with a label telling me to get up there that you could not stand, it was dangerous and could fall into water. I did look seductive and told me that the skin I was playing, but there was nothing to do. And people around here have started to laugh, and I would almost ask what they had to laugh.

Then coming back we stopped at the fish market in Rialto, with that light there in the evening ...

Here, you tell me a fish market most beautiful of the Rialto ( Desa and Prescia Salterana up with Palermo ... but, before saying, they should carefully consider the Rialto, and then it's so beautiful Vanessa Beecroft that makes us the facilities, then it is true that Jenny Saville moved to Palermo, but mica lives on the market).

... It 's just a matter of space, light, water ... there is none, for others there is none.

then lose time sitting on the benches overlooking the Giudecca, the ones that are on Riva of the Partisans (who already this argument in their favor), is a wasting of time that is worth losing. One goes for a ride to the gardens of the Biennale and then sits there, so, as if she thought. In fact, to me, when I am there, I always think what they think those who live in Venice pretend (type S. Giorgio, Giudecca ...) than those who live in the real Venice. If you happen to consider themselves children of a lesser god. One day I know that I'll ask her. I
in those cities as a young and dynamic credit cards (such as London, Milan, Barcelona-no, perhaps in Barcelona live there, I have to think well-, Paris, NY ...) non ci abiterei tranne che in orizzontale, mentre a Venezia ci abiterei. Lo so che a Venezia in estate hai la sensazione di prendere il colera da un momento all’altro (almeno per me) e in inverno diventi così triste che vorresti affondare nella laguna. Ma Venezia mi si confà...ma anche città tipo Genova, Marsiglia...ecco, col mare e le strade strette, sacrificate...però Venezia di più, che c’ha dei valori aggiunti che vi dico un’altra volta perchè ora ho sforato. Ma Venezia di più, sì.

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p.s.

Anja , non t'arrabbiare...che con quelli che abitano a Milano non c'ho mica niente...era così per dire, per scherzare...

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Holocaust is forever

Se questo è un uomo

Voi che vivete sicuri
Nelle vostre tiepide case,
Voi che trovate tornando a sera
Il cibo caldo e visi amici:
Considerate se questo è un uomo
Che lavora nel fango
Che non conosce pace
Che lotta per un pezzo di pane
Che muore per un sì o per un no.
Considerate se questa è una donna,
Senza hair and without name With no more strength to remember

eyes empty and her womb cold Like a frog in winter
.
forget that this was:
Remember these words. Carve them in your heart

When at home because,
bed, rising;
Repeat them to your children. Or have you undone
Home,
illness impede you, May your children
twist their faces from you.

.

.

.

The items to be added are few, almost none.

But if our memories are too cramped, if not teach our children the memory, if the pain and horror do not take our eyes at the sight of those images associated with these words ... the final lines of the First Levi surprise us in the sweetness of sleep ... that the house you are cheeky, that prevents us from disease, that our born twist his face from us, our soul remains alone and leave us a number to remember.

Heat Stress More Condition_symptoms

Reproduction of the noise and love fintezza

I am convinced that when winter comes, my brain is braking. It depends on the winters, but there are cases in which the brake can also be abrupt. And the least thing that I put myself in the head is not being able to pull out of the thoughts the same as those of the summer. Then the other day, and with a bit of a surprise since it thought the winter, I got this idea to split the walls of what was to scream. A bit annoys me tell you why I have not patented, but can not resist. In practice, I had the idea to build a stage set of sounds, sounds like summer to play the typical day of a summer day. So I downloaded by Internet rumors that I did not think even existed on the Internet. Noises like the casinos that cicadas in summer, or the casinos that the frogs in the summer, or stripped of the south wind load of sand from the pine needles of the pine trees standing here outside my house, and, in short all sounds so, to this effect. Then, here in the computer's speakers, I put the crickets in the great stereo speakers, I put the frogs in those of the small stereo, the birds in the morning (such as sparrows, finches ...), I put in the vaults of television the wind, I put the mp3 player in river water. Then I turned up the heat and got in short sleeves. And my cats, when they have heard all of these stimuli sound, have placed themselves at attention and have rubbed my eyes because they do not stand up to the finches. As an artificial paradise that has also come, but my head must have sensed the deception because it produced a single thought that it was not even a girlfriend. It was a thought on fintezza love. The other day a friend of mine told me to be almost in love with a girl from Romania and I naturally I came to warn him about fintezza love. Only he, who has a functioning brain even in the cold months, decided to not listen to me and his love of life as it was. In fact, in the end, I was ashamed of my racism sentimental but I told that was not my fault, but the cold.

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Hello Bulow

The day before yesterday has died Arrigo Boldrini, then, for us to Ravenna, was simply Bulow. Commander of 28th Brigade Garibaldi Mario Gordini, "the hero of the Resistance, since 8 September, he organized the guerrilla warfare in the lowlands around Ravenna, the city has prevented the bombing by the Allies liberating it from those nice people who were the nazi -fascists, it was Senator of the Republic and many other things.

I, I was a child Communist , Bulow I saw him many times and each time her eyes full of wonder. The demonstrations April 25, at parties or unity, or when passing in front of his house near the Duomo my father told me: "Look there Bulow," and I took me a lot to frame the little man with small look dark and determined. And 'it was too small to be a hero, and perhaps too old.

I have an unhealthy passion for the history of resistance, especially in my region, and the only card I have is the policy of the NPC (National Association of Italian Partisans) ... ah, carry it with great pride. And 'that sometimes those books full of existential philosophical considerations and perspectives that people use as an address life (such as books Siddartha or so) things can be replaced by lighter and with fewer pages, card type PNA (at least for me, and one is always more than zero ...). I put this photo of Bulow among children because that's the place where people like him should be that great c'han his head too hard. My April 25, in recent years, the step cycle along the rivers of my land. Every time I stop in a place where blood was spilled to free, which is a stele, a stone or whatever. And I thought of in the middle of the crickets and silence. This year will also be one for you. Hello
Bulow.

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Johnson pharmacist

This post write to say that friendship is strange. And because several times I came across the strange friendship that I thought he should fix this strange thing. If not, at times, the concepts escape. Me and Baol we are friends, friends that we have never seen, but still friends. And then, forcing the concept, you can also say that we are kind of a joint-venture ... not a joint-venture companies, and because I Baol are not companies, but a joint venture of human beings. A joint venture that is based on nothing, but still a joint-venture. And as I see it, in a consortium made of people with flesh and bones, things must be said without much hesitation in the face. Except that Baol , l'altro giorno, salta fuori dicendo che io e lui c'abbiamo un manager che si chiama Johnson . Io, all'inizio, pensavo che fosse quello del baby shampoo (da piccolo usavo quello giallo, poi quando han buttato sul mercato quello rosa-soft son diventato grande). Invece no, era un altro. Questo qui si chiama Johnson il Farmacista . Allora mi sono inca**ato un pò e ho detto a Baol che contro Johnson il Farmacista non c'ho niente, però le cose potrebbe anche dirle prima. E lui ci è rimasto un pò secco e per giustificarsi ha detto che Johnson il Farmacista è un bravissimo manager e che ha dei contatti anche in India. A me, questa cosa dell'India, mi è parsa a little strange but, basically, of Baol I trust. And now I have the problem of having to submit to the Pharmacist Johnson, who introduced me to people that I am not so good. So I decided to write this post resolution. In fact, some is written for the friendship and a little bit because it is written Baol read it and go to the pharmacist to tell Johnson that I wrote a post with a title that bears his name so that Johnson is to appear and not me. Then, nothing. Because now I'm off a bit of days and will not be there, I want to say that Johnson and Baol going to make presentations in Bombay do not talk. But for anything. If you want to go there Baol in Bombay, not me.
E 'that the hot and humid to me kill me. To say, when I was in North Africa, he killed the dry heat, not to mention the warm and humid. Here, the limit to limit, if I go to Bombay, the Imodium Johnson puts it as it is the pharmacist (hoping that this noun adjective indicating precisely what gives away the drugs). I for Imodium not take out a euro, it is clear.
Ben, I'm going. Hello.

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I, here, I've got such a sleepless night

I warn you now that the words that follow are more battered than usual, is that I wrote with squashing under gl'occhi

here now I do not know what to do, because I'm now four and I can not sleep. And every time this thing happens to me not to sleep, this sleep does not bother me much but is not m'invento of things and then not to think. And best not to think well done is to read the thoughts that others have written but at least they are not yours (if that were your not sleep even more ... maybe even, never sleeps more). And nothing, even when it is night They come to me in what I write rhymes, but never mind because you are not intentional, in fact I'm quite random (did you see that even now that I've got the rhyme ... so, not at night I survive). So today my salvation was that it's IBS and I pack when the package arrives IBS attack him because I am curious to read the pieces here and there of the books I ordinato. E allora, per primo, ho cercato L’oro in bocca di Alice , ma quei disastri dell’Ibs me l’hanno depennato perchè non era ancora disponibile e così son rimasto senza e adesso l’ho già riordinato insieme a quello di Lb . Bene, era solo per dire che ho cominciato altri quattro libri oltre ai nove che sono sulla scrivania. Adesso di segnalibri non ne ho davvero più ma fa niente (ah, di notte non metto la punteggiatura...o comunque ne metto poca; anche di giorno non la metto ma di notte di meno). E nella fattispecie son due quelli che proprio ho per le mani adesso... Rome of Ugo Cornia Siam and then people of delicate Paolo Nori. Now that you know Paolo Nori is good and after that I lack only one of his to read ( tuba there) but if you just have to say I, for Ugo Cornia c 'I have a preference. Only in this one I'm reading there was such a setback, as if someone had told him to clean up the language. The beauty of Ugo Cornia c'aveva this language is that it started to get twisted straight (sometimes remained just wrong and that's it). Now is a little too straight. There are still spaces for a stunning beauty but they are here and there and you have to look. One thing that made me cry the beginning of Rome is that he was going around Modena to distribute certificates of election, then came to a place where there were people sitting outside, playing cards, a kind festival country, and have seen when he was the man of the certificates they have made the election around and they offered him wine. Then when he pulled out certificates and said he would sign for the recall, the old men have told him if we win something with that sign with that certificate. And those who live in Emilia Romagna or knows very well that the old people always ask this thing if you win or you give them something to sign something. Even my grandparents were making the case. And then I began to cry (a bit too because my eyes burn from the White Night). Here recently I tell you that it's okay to buy used Baricco, Amman and friends ... but there are also authors who deserve at least equal if not more (for me more ... if I have to tell me) ... well , sti type here Cornia or Nori people buy them who are sensitive.
(Yes but it also includes Alice and Lb that girls are just as sensitive if not more, for me more se proprio devo dir io...)

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A kind of hope, full of hope, grace, lightness and other things that will tell you when I will in mind

A casa mia non ho abbastanza segnalibri carini e devo strappare dei fogli di carta per ricordare il punto in cui sono arrivato a leggere. Ho una specie di sindrome che mi fa cominciare i libri ma non me li fa finire, e così adesso ho nove libri che stanno su una pila e non so se li finirò mai. Il post che dovevo scrivere era su uno di questa specie di segnalibri, che nella fattispecie è un biglietto di un concerto dei Radiohead di dieci anni fa, e, siccome al concerto son già stato, adesso quel biglietto ha il valore della carta da buttare nel macero, tipo di quella carta che il macellaio usa per avvolgerci la carne che perde il sangue. Mi è sembrato una bella cosa dare al biglietto dei radiohead the possibility of beginning a second life as a bookmark. It 's like telling everyone that in life there is always a hope and a chance to start over. And 'that I like the cinema and then sometimes I like to think these things. In short, I should have but now I can not. Now I can not speak of bookmarks because tonight I went to buy a watercress piadinara from my trust and when they came under teloncino plastic does not get wet because I spoke with a gentleman and I knew he was going to be sold the shack of tortillas. So when the stranger is gone, I attacked a little bit to see if it was true that he wanted to sell, and if it was true, because he wanted sell ... and that I would be directly responsible for all the bad tortillas that I ate at a future without her. And then I said some other things I forgot. Then she started telling me things I did not understand and then I understood. They were so beautiful and after a while, though his face was normal, in the eyes of salt water is checked. Type a small sea. As if one had a dead sea in his eyes. And if you put an egg in the dead sea he floats on how much salt there. He told me that since small your body produces more calcium and bone-forming species that should not occur. And this time, the bone in addition, has formed inside the head. The need to operate and no one knows how it will end. So now sells everything. I am lacking words of comfort to say things, but good luck. She said: "We hope that the wolf should die" and we laughed. Then I realized that while the spread tortillas with a rolling pin used to tell me here and there secrets on how to make a good flat bread. As if I do not want to leave empty-handed, as if I wanted to put in a position to make me alone the flatbread if you do not find a worthy substitute. And then two of them also share these secrets with you, but only two, others keep them for me. One is that the yeast is always bought sealed in small quantities and the other is to use only the salt of salt of Cervia. In this way, the flatbread is pretty big and pretty soft. I have a good relationship with my piadinara even if I am one who speaks little. I'm an atypical Romagna Romagna while she is a typical and also speaks for me. And then live in a place that I like a lot, and is close to Brisbane, where there begins the climb up Mount Mauro. Are places I do cycling and therefore I can only love, is that my bike makes me love all the places through with her, become such paths of love and beauty than I do with my bike. And, to say the feeling is that with my piadinara, she as a young man was riding his bicycle and then when the children were born in them members of a team ciclismo e quando si dovevano allenare, visto che erano piccoli, lei andava a fare i percorsi in bicicletta con loro. E la figlia l’ho anche conosciuta perchè all’inizio faceva le piadine anche lei. Ed era bellissima. Non vi spiego il mio concetto di bellezza ma se vi dico che era bella dovete fidarvi. Io quando parlo di bellezza sono sui generis, del tipo che non mi fido mai dei canoni degli altri ma mi fido solo dei miei. Per me vale quella storia della prima impressione. E’ come se alle cose facessi una foto polaroid e solo di quella mi fidassi. Insomma, questa ragazza aveva il sorriso con la luce e per me questo basta e avanza. Ed era una ragazza romagnola tipica, come sua madre. Parlava sempre e poi in mezzo alle parole ci metteva un sorriso (uso l’imperfetto ma lei è viva e vegeta...è che per me vale solo il tempo dei miei occhi...quello che vedono è il presente e quello che non vedono è il passato o l’imperfetto o forse il futuro, forse). E allora quando andavo lì (e ammetto che nel periodo in cui c’è stata lei andavo con una frequenza che poi non ho più avuto...però la colpa non era mia ma del suo sorriso luminoso)...ecco, sì, dicevo...quando c’era lei io andavo lì e lei mi indicava gli alberi, visto che nel cortile della piadineria c’era un olmo, un pioppo e un gelso che adesso si è seccato. E visto che io amo gli alberi romagnoli ascoltavo molto volentieri quello che raccontava. Eran tutte cose sulle malattie degli alberi e sui tempi di fioritura degli alberi. No, niente, è che in quel periodo, all’università, stava studiando per l’esame di botanica e di alberi se ne intendeva tantissimo. Così io stavo un pò girato verso gli alberi e poi mi voltavo e facevo delle gran bocche di meraviglia per farla ridere, anche se non ce n’era bisogno perchè lei rideva benissimo da sola. Ecco, solo per dire tale madre e tale figlia e che a volte la continuità è una bella cosa.
....Poi ha finito di cucinare il crescione e me lo ha messo in un sacchetto e quando è stato il momento di pagare mi sono accorto che avevo pochi spiccioli e cinquanta euro attaccati. Così mi è rimasto un debito di un euro e le ho promesso che quell’euro I would have taken up cycling since upstream Mauro to settle my debt ... and piadinara she started to laugh. I know that I've thrown a little long but I am not good at saying things directly, it is important that you both understand that this post is kind of good luck for that lady there, that makes tortillas very good, riding a bicycle with their children, telling me the secrets of tortillas, who lives in a beautiful place in the hills that you go only with the jeep and the Panda 4x4 and has a daughter with an incredibly bright smile that know life and death of the trees of miracles Romagna.


Now is the time of smematura, similar to racking (which here is made at the closing in romagna of October) and the pig slaughter (which is done here in the Romagna at the end of December).
And nothing ... if I remember all those that I have unconsciously following persons are appointed, beautiful and bright smile: Alice (I expect it but the book does not come here .... hey you! buy the gold in the mouth ... the one on the side!) Desaparecida , Dressel , Maricri (which I always say such things beauty that I do not know how to repay ...), Laura , Guernica , Inenarrabile (che io starei sempre sul suo blog ad ascoltare la marcia turca e a vedere la signorina che cammina per la strada dove due persone si baciano)...e credo qualche altra persona un pò di tempo fa, anche se poi io, nella mia irresponsabilità, ho lasciato cadere nel dimenticatoio. Un giorno pagherò per tutto questo.
Ho deciso di fondere tutti questi meme in uno solo e di nominare cinque blog che amo parecchio. Lascio fuori per ragioni sentimentali quelli del baracchino ( Baol , Anja , Amaracchia , Desa ... which for me are always first prize ... but its always) and the young ladies that I have appointed (and even here, Alice, I must say something ... well, as she wrote, now we are almost inextricably linked ... and nothing, is the girl I admire a lot. Ah, the mail I write ... I wanted to put in it is also the review of Million Dollar Baby, maybe. But this time I've actually said something to stay dry. For what you wrote to me on your blog I do not know how to thank you. I have to think about).
Given that all the blogs included in my list on the right have a small garden in my heart (type that leave out Artemisia or The Guressa or Soy or Left or Prescia seems like a crime). uff ... but ... go to hell! ... I am not good to let out people ...
So the nominees here are these:



Categong :
Cate would be part of the kiosk just raised a sponge once and that was it. And he did it as a mere gesture without any aesthetic and practical purpose, then that is something typical of architects. And then this thing which has the Blogstar is my favorite, and then things tend to even though I forgave him from the Gazzelloni love, it is also true that I do love the flamingos but Gazzelloni is an ugly one. Cate is my opinion as the siren of the police, not because of the noise as well as for the radiant light, which falls in the eye if you need to close them by force. I have not ever seen mica and not even hope to be like in the physical to a police siren but I think it is. And then, according to me, Cate which has the head of a Hot ... like if you put your hand over your hair will burn and you have to take off. In fact, the hair has to put lotions with seeds linen cooled. And 'who thinks of things out of the ordinary, just smart, and then the head gets hot, but she is accustomed. Now you do the little mermaid chic in other oceans, such as social networks, and left us poor regular blogs on their own. In my opinion, a saint should not do so, but life is also seen worse.

Alabama :
What can I say, when I read your post and type I arrived in the middle ... or go to the bathroom or do I pee on him. And 'that the things he writes make me laugh like that is ugly to look at why one loses control of himself and his face is deformed and those entering that moment does not recognize you anymore. It also has a special ability that every time he invents a new nickname, always with the root Kab, but always different every time. And I have not yet figured out how to do. Keep in mind that lives in the midst Jappe, then the Japanese, and even if they try they can not even bend a little and, indeed, in my opinion is more Roman than when she left.

Francesca :
on the things I always do reviews in sentiment where the reason has little or nothing. And I think Frank is a person full of grace, so his blog is full of grace. And I do not mean mica full of drugs as it does in the film Maria Full of Grace. I mean the true grace, the one that has a relationship with the lightness of the beautiful things. His blog is so full of beauty that it almost seems too much. It 's like entering a hall filled with windows, and looking at each of these windows is rediscovering a piece of their lives (at least that goes for me ...). And who speaks to me with love elective affinity between Hisaishi, Kitano and Miyazaki I tattered my heart (to these three gentlemen are very sensitive here).


Fedesottovuoto :
If there is one thing that makes me gape in this world is the light. And Federica, who is also the lady who draws fumettisottovuoto, has this gift in hand. I mean just for comic Charlie Brown and Mafalda, I grew up with them and they are my only love. And for me, and Schulz Quino, are people who were in the hands of genius. And there was poetry in their hands. A comic I do not care nor the credibility, nor color, nor the coating ... I expect only the light ... and Faith has it.

Lb :
Why is the blog of Carrie Bradshaw. Because it makes me laugh, I like the way it deals with the life extension because the songs from the playlist ... and what if it would give me the right to a GoldCard to go to any social event, or artistic nature of what the hell it is. And then, again if it was for me, I would understand those gentlemen who make the shoes, like Manolo Blahnik (if any), or grants of mouflon (Gucci type) that is in their interest to get to Lb, at home, their collections. Then she would give the shoes to bags and their prominence in the great social events and would have all these people here for their return. Ah, I forgot that GoldCard includes access to the dressing rooms of the stars, so as to be able to do interviews with warm blood.
(I tried to buy his book to mail to no avail, and now I will try with IBS ... go ahead!)



And the critics' prize goes to Madd , which is not easy to write because he writes stories for orcs ... and writes so dense that every time I caught up in his words. But write, and in his vocabulary there are ten of mine.




ps There are blogs that I read but did not need my recommendation. However, for those there is never past, segnalo:
Chinasky , Elena , Eiochemipensavo , Bloggointestinale , Ninna (especially when he sings) and others that let you know when I will come to mind.