The glass could be a metaphor for any aspect of human, world, life.
Because all in the world is an integrity of parts, has been a smooth glass before the stone that crush it in pain, awareness, maturation and changes. There is no thing or aspect of the world that isn’t path and distorted, that doesn’t pass the stage of the first in the later, which face an inhuman struggle to be together and that seems almost normal, then, that those pieces are still together even though they are all separate -line confine- from each other and there is no glue to hold them together but only the will or maybe tiredness, almost pretending nothing happened yet there is no longer an entire image but many to form one, even though at that point you don’t care over the whole image because you’re wondering how it can stand up, how it can simulate transparency, a cobweb of upheavals that respond to the verb grow, then that is synonymous with change and contrary to die. And all you cando is look for the strength to resist. Continue Reading




I’m of the idea that life should be sought in the beauty. That everything is a projection of our mind: as much beauty we have inside so much more we perceive. The more we seek beauty around us, the more beautiful will our lives. It’s a reflective mirror, the beauty. It’s something that invests and clothe, is something that exists in anything, like the positive side. But you have to have the right lenses to see it. The beauty results in amazement, then wonder, finally, thrill. It’s always the emotion the ultimate goal, for me. I weight the quality of life in emotions – astonishment, enchantment. A logic that leads easily to the definition that we are then those responsible for our existence.
Life is a shit. And we can do nothing to change it. Change what’s out there. But we can change our perception of it. And make that piece of life that comes into our existence as beautiful as possible.
I’m an esthete.
Falling in love with details, colors, of situations is my way to move me to live. Live good, I mean.
Utopias don’t help. I think that what saves is to maintain a child’s ability of wonder without experience. Without preconceptions, no expectations or demands. This is the real blessing. Children don’t have any expectations, there is no world they know, and everything they see is new and surprise and astonishment and then joy.
Don’t expect anything, and let yourself be surprised by any particular, distraction of life that leaning a second, turned into novelties also a flower already seen, love the lovable and forget everything else. Happy life to come. Continue Reading




This year I haven’t felt Christmas so much. It seemed to me like a fleeting sunbeam, even have time to warm me. Totally understandable.
Indeed that ray has had time to lighten some Christmas energy. I tried in every way to deceive myself with small Christmas habits: baking cookies, watching movies all day, sweet to give me to death, playing and laughing so much.
For me Christmas is genuine joy (here), and the tradition of gifts is essential. This year I made two advent calendars and I received the same, packed more gifts than usual, and discarded many packets. I’m really lucky to have so many people who want to see me happy.
Under the tree I also wrapped gift I had bought for Mom in Amsterdam, a book with all the works of her favorite painter: Van Gogh.
Beyond the consumerism and duty, giving it’s a strong emotion, more than to receive. It’s a way of loving.
Have in your mind a person with intent to surprise her, to excite him/her. And in receiving the more moves is the knowledge that someone has had us in its mind with the intention to surprise, excite us.
Could be this our attitude toward life: surprise it. And in doing so it surprises us. It would be a continuous fill with joy. Continue Reading




I’m always moved by the genuineness. And the Christmas time is full of this. Among the lights in the street, in the eyes of the people that look up, in the music from which we absorb happiness without even knowing why. Maybe because everything reminds the child that is in us. And children are genuineness.
If we could put this child in first place in our lives, what we felicitate more. Because child’s happiness has such as name anything that is colorful, anything that is coincidence, anything that looks new or different from the ordinary, whatever it is because just the cue. A child tries thousand pretexts to rejoice.
Instead, us?
It seems nothing is ever enough. The philosophy should have taught us that there is no complete happiness, eternal. We should not aim at this and feel so never quite filled. But neither should we embrace Schopenhauer and his fluctuating cynicism of boredom and sadness.
Everything is a result of the projection of our mind. If we don’t change the psychological perspective, life can only be a slow decline toward death, day after day.
So joy is everything. This should be the mantra. Continue Reading




Rome is a city of particular charm.
You walk in the street breathing the art. A perfect fit between the history and modern life that it is built around.
Admire Plaza of Spain deserted is a rare and unique opportunity, despite the light rain, which has also given way to the sun.
Breakfast at Ladurée: for me a canary (ginger tea), macarons and mini croissants.
Then visit to the Vatican Museums. Impressive is the amount of art objects and their relevance to this place… but we aren’t here to syndicate justice. Art is always art, the greatest pride of man, that which manages to outshine all the rot he has as nature.
I saw for the first time the Sistine Chapel, that intended Michelangelo to death. Was it worth it?
Then, while my friends were passing under the Holy Door in the Vatican, I was losing through the streets of Rome with one of the best ice cream I’ve ever tasted (Gelateria del Teatro, you have to go there) under the waning light of dusk. What colors. It’s the time of day I prefer absolute.
Piazza Navona in the rain, the Pantheon, in the evening. Continue Reading



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Salerno is famous for its Artist’s Lights that every year, from November to February, attracting millions of visitors. They are spectacular: the city lights of myriads of small lights that create starry skies, flowers, trees. Every alley leads to a surprise and you never can see them all. In the Secret Garden they told fairy tales through the lights, from Peter Pan (there is also the Big Ben!) to Alice in Wonderland.
And this year they have also installed a ferris wheel.
I walked between these lights, at the Immaculate night, and I fell in love over and over again.

Fall in love. Fall in love with everything, continuosly. Feel excited at the presence of views, objects, situations. So your life will be a continuous first date, with all the annexes feelings and the crystalline happiness that only lovers try. If you feel them for everything, life would be a wonderful love story with the world.
The happiness can be many and genuine, whatever pretext is right to fill our heart. Continue Reading




The day after Mom’s funeral we escaped to Rome, to breathe a new and different air.
To let the sun heat us, that the scenarios confuse and the change creates an unreal bubble around us like a dream.
I no longer sense of time, it’s like nothing has changed in my life, or it has never been different from this. The lack of mom get to sudden gusts of wind, then calms down and it seems could return at any moment, after one of his long trips. I dream of her every night in different everyday situations and in all she’s present even if she shouldn’t, and for me it is only natural to see her from the stands of the church at Mass dedicated to her or reflected in a shop window while walking on the street.
I feel sometimes its absence as presence, presence in myself, as if a part of me was her, a part of my thoughts. I know what she could tell me in any situation, and if before I told her my things for the sake of sharing them, I just think of them now and it’s as if we were speaking. As if we were two minds in one body, two appearances in one. A whole. She’s always present.
Now I understand exactly what they mean when people repeat that those who leave never leaves us really. Remaining always within us. Continue Reading




My mother is gone.
There were months that she was losing weight, which was fading a bit, and there were weeks that she had pain to back and hip. She was eating plan and little, ’cause she got tired.
We still wonder how we could be blind to all these signals. Only in hindsight it seemed obvious that she was ill.
Two weeks ago we did the first X-rays, and it is supposed rheumatologic a cause for pain. Mum was bedridden, and we started to feel fear. The increased pain, only cortisones and morphine helped her. We tried to stay positive, we were near her, we spent the days in the bedroom with her.
Then, from Monday, things are rapidly precipitated.
She has done a CAT scan and before I see the results, we admitted her to the hospital because she could no longer move.
I was beside her all night: any position caused her pain and also keep the head on the pillow ached. I tried to move, to bend the pillow, to keep fresh her forehead for fever rising.
My father told me of the CAT scan results crying: an unidentified tumor, metastases of all the bones, cranial bleeding, swollen pancreas, bone and thigh with dysfunctions. And especially low platelets. We should have at least 150,000 platelets. She had 38,000.
The question was how it was possible. Continue Reading