Mind away

Mind away



Caution:
Mind Away.

I could go on and on, across sugar clouds and thoughts.

The equilibrist

The equilibrist



‘Its circular.
You exist to continue your existence.

What’s the point?

Without love, without anger, without sorrow,
breath is just a clock ticking.’


The comet

The comet


‘She was a proper comet.
Her hair gathered together and flung itself out ahead of her
like flame on a blowtorch. Behind it,
her body was a small, curled-up, icy ball.
But because she was clutching the golden apple,
she knew she was carrying with her al the seeds of life
- all excitement, joy, growth and adventure -
She could go anywhere in the universe with this
and still be alive.’

The Game.


A sea tale

A sea tale



Have you seen the sea?
As he breathe, mumbles, blowing.
He raises his eyes to the sky, to his brother.
He foaming at the mouth like a black wolf.
Everyone own has their own wolf to feed.
Baptizes him, Zorba says.
And he will take you, as the sea.

Like a wave

Like a wave

“Scivolò via come un’onda, solo più bella delle altre.”
A. Baricco

Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis 
‘Her hands are leaves, the light is in her hair’


She sings in the night

She sings in the night


She sings in the night, with her ​​feet sink in a cup of coffee.

Everyone has their own little internal world

Everyone has their own little internal world

‘Everyone has their own little internal world
- a secret garden only they can enter.
Each world follows its own internal logic - individuality.
And the logic of one world means nothing in another.
Understanding other people isn’t hard…..It’s Impossible.

Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to see inside other people.
They can keep their gardens a secret.’

But.

‘Once you see the real me, will we still be friends?’


A windy tale

A windy tale

“She toots and hoots, biffs and boffs,
and pumps and trumps her way round the village
- waking small children - frightening goats -
even blowing pheasants out of trees.
She tries to keep things quiet, she really does,
but she can’t hold it any longer.
The back quack that follows is beyond
anyone’s wildest expectations…
and so the story begins.”

Leaf, love. Life.

Leaf, love. Life.


Storia, di una copertina

Storia, di una copertina

Ho scoperto per caso il concorso di Salani e ho deciso di partecipare.
Ora il concorso è chiuso e non so ancora nulla, ma questo è ciò che ne è venuto fuori.



Questa è la storia di una promessa.
Le promesse hanno una doppia valenza:
il dovere e il piacere.
Il dovere di portarle a compimento, il piacere di aver realizzato.

E se è vero che ogni promessa è un debito, il debito esiste principalmente verso noi stessi.
Perché una promessa è un atto di fiducia.

"Io ti insegnerò a volare.
Io imparerò a volare."

Basta non aver paura di meravigliarsi ancora.

Ecco, vorrei che tutto queste parole si cogliessero anche nei segni,
che la speranza e la meraviglia fossero la prima chiave di lettura di questa copertina.



The sleep of Reasone

The sleep of Reasone


The sleep of reasone
produce Monday!

Detail

Detail

Detail, of another kind.