On the train by the dim / Lit water blue / With white boats / Sloping in, the train / Too metallic and / Rusted for the soft / Evening, the light inside / Too green, reminiscent / Of death and / Cleaning supplies
A film review about the documentary Human that shows people from all over the world. While looking into their eyes, you will hear about life, love and suffering. Their stories will introduce you to other worlds. They will make you think about your own.
I don’t usually assign much spiritual significance to death, but on the 8th of December, when two friends and I went to Potsdam to explore an abandoned cemetery, taking a picture felt wrong. In an effort to make something from the experience or somehow preserve it, I sat down and wrote this poem.
He looked at his hands in wonderas ifmind and body grew apart andreal-izedI can move my hands, my fingers eyes, he looked above and again as if mind and body grew apart he realized I can think; this might be my soul So why do I livehe asked himselfWhy do I live He wondered He
Some people are attached to their hometown because some cities are able to elicit feelings of loyalty, belonging and nostalgia. These cities are like a flawed but ultimately charming protagonist with a past that is both happy and sad. So the residents of these places who play supporting roles in the collective city narrative end
This article was inspired by Roland Barthes’ Mythologies. Think of a caged hamster running in his wheel for infinity, urged to run faster and faster to the point of exhaustion but prevented from ever reaching a final stop. The modern consumer is the 21st century embodiment of the caged hamster as he spins the wheel
Cabin Fever Months snowed inA man rinsing and repeatingA sweet song played overTea heated on the stove forUnkempt hair and foggy glassesAnd bastard brain bashed inHe left home fast; saysHe never recoveredWhen looking at me through a cameraI was not so sureAbout my presenceAnd what I should be trying forIt comes back to me when
I translated this extract of my mother’s memoirs because of its sentimental meaning for me. I hope that, if the translation is decent, it delineates the moral silhouette of a heroic figure. I would like to share it as a tribute to her courage. E.M.S. I called my brother Roberto and told him