Earlier this week I had the pleasure of being selected by the German company Saal Digital to test their products. On their website (www.saal-digital.it in Italy) you can find a wide variety of ways to showcase your art, such as photobooks, photocalendars, photoposters… Among the most creative ones are for sure the ‘photopaintings’, printed not just on canvas but also on more modern materials, such as PVC or aluminum.
This is a picture I took almost 7 years ago, on December 6, 2009. While looking at it and comparing the different feelings Christmas gives rise to now, I thought about this “challenge”… who wants to join me?
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I guess many of you already know Autumn is my favorite season. There are countless reasons that make me love it: its gorgeous colors, the melancholic and magical atmosphere of some rainy or misty days (in which I enjoy being outside taking macros of dew-covered spider’s webs), the chilly weather that makes it beautiful to play in the garden with my cats, take long walks wearing my favorite cozy cardigan or read a book lying on the sofa, preferably with hot chocolate at hand 😉
But have I always enjoyed all this? Not at all! There was a time when I just couldn’t list anything nice about Autumn… I was probably 8 or 9 years old.
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I have just realized I have been silent on the blog for almost 3 years. Many things have happened since I last posted, and some of these (like the death of my beloved grandmother) are the reason why I haven’t felt like writing. I guess it sounds perfectly normal and understandable, yet to me this is completely new: in the past, especially in my early twenties, the only way I knew to cope with pain was writing.
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Someone tells me I am mysterious.
I smile, in a mysterious way.
Flowing cloaks and midnight trysts
Are not in the repertoire of my mystery
Which is essentially a matter
Of hiding from myself.
Some people are afraid to cry
For fear they will never stop.
Some days I am afraid to laugh
(Polite laughs don’t count)
For fear my face will split open
Like a pumpkin, all seeds
Splattering into tears.
James Laughlin, Angelica. Fragment from an Autobiography
Qualcuno mi dice che sono misteriosa.
Sorrido, in modo misterioso.
Mantelli al vento e appuntamenti notturni
Non rientrano nel repertorio del mio mistero
Che consiste soprattutto
Nel nascondermi da me stessa.
Alcune persone hanno paura di piangere
Perché temono di non smettere più.
A volte ho paura di ridere
(Le risatine educate non contano)
Perché temo che il mio volto si spezzi in due
Come una zucca, tutti i semi
Sparsi in lacrime.
James Laughlin, Angelica. Frammento di un’autobiografia
Traduzione di Rita Severi
This is from a book I studied at University (translated by one of my English Literature teachers).
There’s so much about me in these verses that I thought it was a pity not to share them. I hope you will enjoy them, too!
This post belongs to a blog circle called Sisterhood Stories. Please read Laura’s entry and complete the circle! 🙂
Have a poetic week ahead,
No One Will Miss Her by Kat Rosenfield, featuring one of my pictures on the cover.
