ULTRAMARINE

My ultramarine
Color of the horizon unknown,
insane boldness blue,
My rapt consent,
Coveted.
Electric blue.
My visual enjoyment.
Ultramarine.
On fingers stained with torment.
We are on different wings that go far.
The victory of the waves over the wind.
A yellow cedar among the blues.
Hanging like a thread on the net.
I draw looks that have no eyes.
Do not look at me.
I see a thousand different things.
Each has its own meaning.
Everything that happens has its reason.

BECOME

Project something. 
Become. 
Cling to the world
With all the people on
Trying to forget them. 
Lock them up inside the cave of the unconscious.
Sigh heavy on my chest I should sleep instead. 
Living in dreams what I can't live in my days.
Talking about what is so far away.
Reach out and take a cloudless blue.
I renew my gaze.
I aspire.
We are different in veins.
I am boat and you are ship.
Set sail and become the horizon.
I do not night and not even day.
I fish in the port of your memories.
The world asked for a part of me but I didn't give it to them.
I'm here and I paint fish on plants and hearts on trains.
Keep your star on your head so that I can shine looking at you in the sky.

UP AND BENEATH

What is in the sky is within the earth.
Perhaps blue, infinite water, a life in reverse.
Maybe I say, I try, I preach.
Dug the earth,
a primordial cave, from where man comes out as a newborn and knows nothing and wants to discover something,
but what he finds is explosive, it damages the earth.
A vivid wound lies within the human being, a reminder of what he lost by falling from his universe.
And he remembers the pleasure of being alone with Nature but never rediscovering that pleasure and he sinks into the atavistic pain of being alone.
I see sincere tears, lights of various colors, screens full of numbers and hopes, hopes.
Come out of the nest, lonely wanderer, come out of the wolves' den, out of the mud pond, come out of the buried sky.
Be blue too.

THE EXISTENTIAL LOOP

The Cobalt Blue color symbolizes the ability to change when we feel that our life has taken a direction that has led us - or is leading us - away from the vision and spiritual approach of existence.In life, huge turns are made, and each path is an experience, a test, a tangible experimentation of the soul's will to touch the many possibilities presented to it by "wearing a human body". The soul, according to our vision of life, chooses where, how and when to incarnate. For this reason, everything that happens in the course of your existence is, to some extent, experiential food for your soul.

But of course there are parameters and "limits". One of these is our sleep and our blindness. In fact, we often do not see what there is to see and we do not grasp the teaching brought to us by the experience we are doing.When this happens, we enter a loop, a vicious circle, in which we continually repeat actions, experiences and circumstances that we cannot compensate or digest. We have all experienced this painful stalemate. It is as if you are in a spiral that is whirling around but leading you nowhere.

It is like getting lost in a maze and never finding the exit despite the thousands of steps we take to free ourselves. And here, when you are that in this loop, the situations persist or are repeated all the same: the places, the characters of the play, the names and the times change ... but the situations seem to be an "eternal return".
The Cobalt Blue color symbolizes the ability to change when we feel that our life has taken a direction that has led us - or is leading us - away from the vision and spiritual approach of existence.

In life, huge turns are made, and each path is an experience, a test, a tangible experimentation of the soul's will to touch the many possibilities presented to it by "wearing a human body". The soul, according to our vision of life, chooses where, how and when to incarnate. For this reason, everything that happens in the course of your existence is, to some extent, experiential food for your soul. But of course there are parameters and "limits". One of these is our sleep and our blindness. In fact, we often do not see what there is to see and we do not grasp the teaching brought to us by the experience we are doing.

When this happens, we enter a loop, a vicious circle, in which we continually repeat actions, experiences and circumstances that we cannot compensate or digest. We have all experienced this painful stalemate. It is as if you are in a spiral that is whirling around but leading you nowhere. It is like getting lost in a maze and never finding the exit despite the thousands of steps we take to free ourselves. And here, when you are that in this loop, the situations persist or are repeated all the same: the places, the characters of the play, the names and the times change ... but the situations seem to be an "eternal return".

I’M VERY UPSET

Last night, I had a dream. I dreamed of a man. He wasn’t really a man, he was rather a young man. Yes, he was a young man. I don’t remember his face. I only remember his eyes, large, clear, I don’t remember the nuance of the iris. Maybe they were green, or maybe blue … who knows what color those bright irises were painted? Certainly, I repeat, they were clear. I remember his hair. They were beautiful. They were wavy, brown, a dark brown, almost black. They painted the gray background of a winter’s day with those tongues of charred wood. I remember touching them. They were soft, softer than I thought. I had imagined them bristly, almost stringy. And instead, what was my surprise in knowing that they are soft and silky, almost water rubbed between my fingers. I remember caressing them, from root to tip, which barely touched his shoulders. They were long and neatly messy. They were so beautiful. I remember them very well. He wasn’t handsome, my young man. But he was attractive, as no Adonis can be. He had a voice… oh, what a voice! He modulated his words gracefully and muttered softly when I was close to him. I touched his hands. He had nice hands. The fingers were long, tapered, pianist’s fingers, as they say. The skin of those hands … You touch it. Oh, if I touched them… they were soft, like hair. They weren’t hot, but they weren’t cold either. They were warm, that sweet, subtle warmth that warms your soul and barely touches your heart. Sweet sound his words close to my ear, as he murmurs …

TRIBUTE TO BLUE ELVIS

ELISHA

The human being is divided into two parts: one he knows and the other he has to meet. And when the latter arrives, it is easier than you think to understand that in those eyes, in those lips, in that smile, there is the other half. You feel it on your skin, in your veins. You feel your heart beating, you feel a strange interest in that person you just met, but so attracting attention that you don’t understand why. And when you begin to create a real relationship, made no longer of looks, but of constant dialogue, you understand that you cannot separate from your person. Because once they are reunited it is as if each fabric is glued back together, found again. Every muscle, every organ, inextricably linked.

Once in a lifetime, something happens. The meeting of two souls who, despite having been apart for a long time, have never really been separated. In fact, only once in my life, I found Love, and it happened at the exact moment I met your eyes. I understood that distances are not real, because all that is most real is our being, very distant from what we see only with the eyes, or that we perceive only with the senses and interpret with our mind. There is something beyond any kind of rationality, and love is the only way to understand it. Once in my life, I met you. But for how many lifetimes we will still meet, always in the same place, that place without time or space. Where our eyes will still recognize each other and the doors to infinity will open.

You never let go of your hands, you hold tight, with eyes cast down to others, and it’s an ocean, girl, that silence of yours, and it’s beautiful blue waves, messages of love in a bottle of precious crystal. They are in the courtyard. You are a boat in the middle of the sea. And they laugh, rumor new loves, and they are enough, and they talk to each other, lowering their voices, getting closer, when they look at you, in that corner only yours, while you smile at the ants, without ever being able to see you. Your pain is the ocean, fragile girl, and they would drown, believe me, in your great sea, in your glaring depths, in the wonderful invisible world that you are. Let them believe, therefore, that you are left out, that you are the excluded, that they are together, that you are alone, desperately alone. Let them believe, twin flame! I feel like hugging you, even if I don’t know you, even if I’ve never seen you; hug you and tell you that everything is fine, that we are the ones together, even if together, due to time and space, we have never been there. Yet, that corner was mine, once upon a time, and no one, besides us, has ever noticed all that sea, all that deep, this boundless ocean of ours!

LIFE IS LIFE

In spite of everything…. Life deserves to be lived. In moments of calm and in those of storm. When the night is dark and starless, but also when it brightens and you can see the dawn. When ageless anguish rises from the stomach and suffocates you, like when you watch a sunset sitting on a bench. Timewill pass, and the dolphins will continue to swim and jump next to me, and a magical world of pink and blue clouds on which I lightly learn to walk will always await me. Beauty, hope, play have no time and time does not exist in friendship. The soul meets other souls and together we simply travel through an indelible space, be it long or short. And this space becomes shorter and the climb less tiring if you have friends next to you to share with. This space is also here, where I met and meet special souls. Life deserves to be lived, despite everything ….

STORY OF UNDERWATER

At the bottom of the sea the sun never sets. The sun, which seems to go out in the waves, has no place in the ocean depths. LAYA swam fearlessly among the corals and sponges of the seabed, of a dense, blackish blue; a viscous darkness for human eyes, but not for her, who possessed it, controlled it. It wasn't like that on dry land where darkness possessed her, controlled her. It infiltrated her body more and more every day: a tarry poison that penetrated her eyes, nose, mouth and filled her head, polluting her ideas; then he went down to force her breath, to numb her limbs. Although LAYA felt that something was wrong, that it wasn't right, that she had to rebel, she never did. The darkness comforted her, cradled her, clutching her organs, her muscles, her bones that she could no longer move. And she didn't want to move. When the darkness was thicker, his heart, so impregnated, slowed down so much, stuck, that LAYA watched him concentrated, wondering how faintly he could beat before stopping.

In his world it was not like that. In his world, even darkness was his subject.

He swam to the surface; hidden among the rocks she looked at the city where she had no place she could call her own, where all affection was a stranger. He watched the sunset color the horizon pink and lilac. He watched the sea sparkle with gold and wondered what could be so precious there, in the dry, for which it was worth facing so many humiliations, so many failures, so many losses. He watched his tail flicker under the surface of the water which gradually became an increasingly intense crimson: the princess, the symbol of a proud people, the leader of a valiant army, swam in those red, violent waters. There she was not placid, meek or compliant, there she was not herself, there she was free from herself.

She plunged back into the inflamed waters, swimming energetically towards the bottom, where she was alive and light and strong, where she didn't need or want to hide. He spotted a scorpionfish camouflaged among the rocks: he pounced on it and scrubbed it unceremoniously with his sharp teeth. The flesh tearing deliciously, the brittle bone shattering under her jaws gave her a thrill of satisfaction. She felt no pity for that fish, as she was sure no one felt for her.

ASK THE BLUE BIRDS

Sometimes I can’t sleep well and wake up in the middle of the night. It is initially frustrating to open your eyes in a dark room, but it doesn’t take much to make that moment magical. The birds chirp, hidden among the branches of the gnarled trees, while an incredible quiet reigns outside. The streets are deserted, the lights of the houses still extinguished, while a pale moon peeps through the clouds, whitening the landscape with its white light. A wonderful mantle of stars covers the sky, small but bright they shine majestically, giving, to the observer, an inexplicable serenity. This mystical moment, suspended between the nocturnal darkness and the multicolored lights of dawn, is known by few, which makes it even more special.

Rough sea, The sky invokes a storm …
Black, hurl lightning on us …
The animals run for cover, They are afraid…
Two little birds embraced, They tremble in their nest …
Too fragile to withstand the elements.
Chilling the wickedness of this nature, Cruel laughter,
The ground trembles, This little house falls.
Desperate song …
The little birds run away, They force each other … I was left alone.
Raindrops slide down my face, I look at the sky … It is covered with furious clouds …
I laugh. I am still here!
What else do you want to do?

It was three in the morning. I couldn’t sleep, so I got up and headed outside. It was cold, very cold, but I didn’t care, the air was fresh, only birds and crickets could be heard, no cars, no boys / girls, and not even screaming parents. I took deep breaths, for a moment I admit I felt free. Free from everything and everyone, from my problems, from thoughts. I went back inside, took a large blanket and made myself some tea. I went into the garden and sat on a chair, looking at nature in all its beauty, listening carefully to the sounds of the animals, the birds sing even at night, and for once, relax without any problems.

Sometimes it seems like everything hurts us,
we should also be afraid of the sea.
With what eyes should we look at ourselves, if our eyes are full of dross.
Multiple satellites destroy the sky, a veil of blue feathers would be better.
Run fast above the clouds,
run blue birds,
take the treasure of light and give it to everyone.

https://youtu.be/sixvkgjsoU4