To Tell

To Tell

Telling has a special flavor. It contains an energy that vibrates in the images of the depth that some silent explorer suddenly presents us with: meager, sometimes full of fog but always illuminating, perfumed by the grace that dwells in the territories of the invisible. Each of us has a special story, so unique that it can become a stimulus, a recognition, a prayer. A story so sacred that it becomes...

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Music

Music

When music becomes poetry, it moves sinuously between the folds of the soul. You feel it arrive in the ravines of the heart to nourish, quenching that perennial desire for beauty that does not go away except in some moments. Rare, precious, priceless.  Richard Galliano’s accordion tonight in Monteriggioni made me breathe the French rain and the red skirts of the Tanjawa (women of Tangier) in the Argentine barrios. He made me dance in the world of this extraordinary artist until he left me happy with his hands skinned by much applauding, bewitched. Moved. A meal of love full of wonder. An hour and a half in concert that seemed like a minute and an emotion that will last forever. Thanks Richard....

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Land

Land

And when you least expect it… the sea. I saw it when I was young, with small feet; the noise, the smell of wood that crowned my foot races in front of the cabins, keeping me company, my lips salty with play, and a large grandmother intent on baking the best stuffed shells in the world… Maybe for me it will always be the sea: eyes that follow you from afar glued to your back as you enter the water. The most beautiful tan I have ever known. A sun so sweet as to embrace all of me while escorting me back to shore. Always....

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