tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40057197220665330132024-03-13T22:21:54.438+01:00Acrilico100%<center>- un blog che (r)esiste a stento -</center>Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.comBlogger134125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-66887079717115707502014-02-02T14:56:00.001+01:002014-02-02T14:59:18.201+01:00Altre Memorie
In relazione al Giorno della Memoria, alla Cambogia e ai numerosi massacri poco mainstream. Il mio nuovo pezzo su A Nordest di Che:
Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-45653528023407753852014-01-23T10:35:00.003+01:002014-01-23T10:44:08.959+01:00Cooperazione e Resistenza - INTERVISTA
Il Servizio Civile Internazionale (SCI) è un’organizzazione laica attiva dal 1920 nel campo del volontariato e della cooperazione internazionale. All’interno di un panorama nazionale dominato dalle associazioni di stampo cattolico, è interessante vedere come lo SCI si approcci alle tematiche del volontariato e dell’attivismo in modo radicalmente diverso – a tratti eretico – rispetto a quanto Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-81579345451986722352014-01-04T11:49:00.001+01:002014-01-04T11:51:45.774+01:00La firma contaQuando si ha un piede ingessato si scopre all'improvviso di avere a disposizione un sacco di tempo. E molta energia. Entrambi pronti per essere spesi nei modi più futili. Un giorno ho postato su Facebook una serie di citazioni di personaggi universalmente famosi, riferite alla mia claudicante condizione. Hanno riscosso un certo successo. Le avevo inventate.
"Il portato di fascino romanzesco Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-24505619757167533602013-12-28T15:57:00.002+01:002013-12-28T16:00:00.654+01:00Travel yangIl mio post di fine anno per A Nordest di Che..., che col fine anno non ha minimamente a che fare.
Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-76184938554186128582013-10-29T10:38:00.000+01:002013-10-29T19:02:39.236+01:00A Volte Ritornano - Diario di Viaggio
In uno sprazzo di ispirazione e nostalgia ho riesumato Downunder Report, il diario di viaggio in Australia che da qualche mese avevo abbandonato, incompleto, a fermentare nelle cantine degli amici di A Nordest di Che.
Questa volta una deliziosa storia di condizioni igieniche precarie, letti sfondati e t-shirt glitterate, la si legge qui.
Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-26085750341534660582013-10-19T13:09:00.001+02:002013-10-22T00:41:12.103+02:00VHS
Ultimamente mi sono scoperto a riguardare quei film che un tempo, in videocassetta, riempivano lo scaffale basso della libreria di casa mia. Non è stata una cosa ragionata, ho impiegato un po' a realizzarlo, pur se immagino che ciò sia imputabile a una qualche forma di nostalgia. Ma una nostalgia morbida, senza rimpianto: preferisco essere il me stesso di ora piuttosto che quello di quindici oFujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-45402909232249179382013-09-30T23:23:00.001+02:002013-10-18T22:33:12.317+02:00Sogni[Continua da qui]
- Ma se posso chiedere, cosa porta un uomo, un uomo solo, a sedersi al tavolo di una bettola così? I miei clienti vengon quassù per ridere, bestemmiare, cascar giù dalle sedie. Per strepitar contro le stelle, quando proprio non va. Si son visti poche volte tavoli silenziosi a 'sto modo. -
Sul ripiano di formica i pugni si stringono un poco, senza quasi farsi notare, e da sottoFujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-43920602813730124162013-09-22T00:41:00.001+02:002013-10-08T18:59:40.885+02:00Fogli sparsi"Ogni tanto penso ancora a lei. Ma son passati anni, secoli, ere; acqua sotto i ponti e uno spazio senza fine, rotoli di chilometri che ormai non conto più. Il tempo e la distanza attenuano i ricordi, così è, e allora sono solo abissi approssimativi, crepacci abbozzati a spaccarmi l'anima ora. Forse ho sofferto per lei, o magari ne ho solo amato la nostalgia durante quel lungo tempo trascorso traFujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-23442330978601847192013-09-16T23:53:00.002+02:002013-09-16T23:56:26.490+02:00Places of soulFujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-62141756157016339702013-08-24T15:13:00.001+02:002013-08-24T17:30:00.212+02:00Random meetingsIt happens sometimes that you're zapping through the radio frequencies while driving and suddenly the speakers play a melody you immediately find familiar, a tune already stored in some drawer of your brain, though you can't say how long it's been there, if it's just a summer hit or an aged track. You cannot even link it to a title or an author. Probably you already listened to it one thousand Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-7571034967666884992013-08-18T15:18:00.001+02:002013-08-25T22:05:51.859+02:00A night at the beach
Bonfires, I love them so much. In the beginning is circumspection, sitting in a corner, sipping from the bottle and studying the situation around: who is there, who's with who, what they're doing. Getting slowly into the mood. It's not like being at a party, no queues at the bar (or at the toilets); no urgency to talk with people; no need to speak loud over the music or to build inconsistent, Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-84542205317074749742013-08-07T16:51:00.000+02:002013-08-07T16:51:32.303+02:00Religion kicks your ass
I've been studying Photoshop lately.
Now it's time to play:
Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-25175991109491878782013-07-22T15:04:00.001+02:002013-07-27T15:55:37.234+02:00AriditàÈ un momento secco. Il blog si prosciuga, pochi post levano il loro magro profilo all'orizzonte. Stessa cosa per quaderni e blocchi vari, dove è l'arsura d'inchiostro a regnar sovrana. Distese di pagine bianche come sabbia al sole. Ma di preoccuparsi non c'è motivo: così - mi è parso di realizzare con gli anni - funziona il moto creativo. Quantomeno il mio. Niente quattro stagioni, di cicli Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-40532792092107574382013-07-12T01:02:00.003+02:002013-07-12T18:30:26.495+02:00Un incipit appassionatoCi si bacia per strada, marciapiedi e panchine, per terra ombre di labbra incollate dalle luci dei lampioni. Storie che non pensano a domani: sguardi rimasti avvinghiati sotto insegne di pub; odore di gas di scarico e troppe paglie. Dita aggressive, feromoni e istinto, non c'è spazio per il cervello qui, la testa arriverà domani, neppur richiesta, a valutar numeri salvati sotto nomi poco noti, a Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-54884032088486736592013-07-09T15:43:00.001+02:002013-07-11T17:53:09.594+02:00The concept of fuffa
"Fuffa" is a very Italian term that, losing part of its meaning, may be translated into "crap". It indicates something whose content seems to be meaningful at a first look, though it reveals to be completely senseless after a deeper analysis.
E.g.: the bulk of mainstream contents are fuffa; lots of medias spread fuffa and of fuffa is full the mouth of people talking about nearly anything they Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-15986479217772143272013-07-05T16:18:00.003+02:002013-07-05T21:18:50.284+02:00The right door
Happiness is a little thing, quite easy to get. No need to struggle all the time for it. Yeah, big life changes don't usually come by themselves, but the pure happiness, the one that raise your mood for a bunch of minutes and makes your steps lighter, it comes however - unexpected - in lots of ways.
It's the happiness of small things.
Music often makes this effect on me: listening and Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-31054747656588676972013-07-03T22:35:00.000+02:002013-07-04T01:27:53.232+02:00Just a summer day
The alarm rings.
I cross the road and start to work.
Within half an hour something unexpected messes up the daily plan, forcing me to be in a hurry for the whole morning. This fucks up straight away my patience, serenity and love for the human race. I'm so misanthropic in summertime. Life sucks.
Break.
Riding my green bike without holding the handlebars makes me feel cool. The blood rushes Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-21895680066224870902013-07-02T14:55:00.000+02:002013-07-02T15:04:07.620+02:00A short reply to a silly comment that pretends to be a postOf course she's one of that kind, though she pretends not to know that (I don't dare to think she really doesn't know). "And why?" she asks. But the proof is right here: why would I write these posts otherwise?Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-22584734912306882512013-07-02T01:56:00.000+02:002013-07-02T01:56:49.788+02:00A very meaningful but short dialogue whose title is almost longer than the text- So, if it's not a matter of appearance, what's your kind of girl like? - - The one you can't avoid to be a gentleman with - Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-44263465533622807572013-06-28T01:28:00.002+02:002013-07-02T16:46:49.336+02:00Random thoughts pretending to be deep - 2Stories are everywhere.
They're one of the commonest materials in the world: they're blended in with the asphalt of the roads; they walk along with cats and stand beside signposts. Old tales sneak through the circles of the trees and heaps of stories are simply stacked behind the eyes of any person walking on a crowded street. The hard job is to get hold of the right glasses to identify them, to Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-21563187417052749222013-06-25T15:46:00.001+02:002013-06-25T15:57:08.426+02:00A callGimme sentences.
Or words, letters, just commas if you prefer. Significant or not, it doesn't matter that much. I love them. That's the fuel of some engine hidden somewhere, they're the crumbs that help in tracking the way. Don't let that string come loose, its faint pull contributes in keeping this man standing. And in mining words out, in order to pile them up here. Carry on whispering on that Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-22733089499127173082013-06-22T16:34:00.000+02:002013-06-23T16:21:19.545+02:00The waking upOn certain days the road calls stronger.
It's the travel bug that wakes up and starts digging tunnels deep inside the head.
The wanderlust grows more strong and maps increase their power of attraction, while memories of old trips and almost forgotten travel mates come to the surface of the mind. New invisible strings start stretching across oceans and continents, pulling you towards countries toFujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-66213873535531465432013-06-16T02:26:00.000+02:002013-06-16T02:48:58.900+02:00
Her place is red.
I wandered a lot before getting back there.
Few ornaments, just a bare tree.
It looks like a new challenge.
(the place, not the tree)
We are both communicators.
Different ways. Kind of known feelings.
Reading like interpreting a treasure map.Writing like throwing bottles into the sea.
Often thinking about her.
And, by the way, "work out" are two words.
(smile)Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-82145773584603845872013-06-13T01:18:00.001+02:002013-06-13T21:52:34.581+02:00Random thoughts pretending to be deep - 1Being considered a leader, without ever having asked for that, it's kind of annoying. Power is power, they say. A shepherd's never alone and free, I reply. Leadership is not a jewel which can be worn every day. It gets stupid. It becomes tiring. And worn out.Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4005719722066533013.post-82585134030847992242013-06-09T22:40:00.000+02:002013-06-10T21:20:55.567+02:00On writing
The tide rises. A wave crashes behind the eyes; hidden streams flow down from the synapses, along the arms, crossing the narrow passage of the wrists and eventually ending up in the hands, finding a way out through the fingertips.
That's my experience of writing, an ebb and flow, a primitive energy triggered somewhere, in a undefined point between the stomach and the brain that immediately Fujihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12722224972969735221noreply@blogger.com0