I feel exactly like … a black rose in a field of daisies. A black, withered, neglected rose, but with the thorns still ready to protect it, even when someone would like to pick it up like this, worn out as it is. I feel like a dead rose, but still with the strength to defend myself from others. And I know that I could spoil the beauty of the other flowers, because in comparison to me they look more alive and colorful. I also know that I spoil the landscape, but I feel this way and I can’t help it.
For a long time I have wondered what it takes to be truly happy: maybe a perfect family? Maybe, a person you love? Perhaps, a house in the most beautiful city that exists? Here, these things could not exist if our happiness were not the fruit of something more, if there were not something that elevates us so high as to lead us to love something we do not have. Happiness lies in what we do not see only with our own eyes: it is seeing the lawn greener than usual and being able to photograph the only flowering tree in a square; dancing on cut trunks and hugging trees; wait for the train to pass before taking a picture and greet those who smile at you from the wagons as if you were crazy; feel your hands burn because they have been rubbed on a bark and try to attract the attention of two dogs that will never listen to you anyway; adjust your camera settings to make this photo the best and feel your eyes water from the sun; playing with (pseudo) pine cones and falling off a bench trying to do something artistic. Well, I didn’t think I could enjoy all this, to have that little bubble of energy to feel that around me there is still so much to observe and analyze. And above all, I didn’t think I had someone with a bubble so big that I could get bigger. And never break out.
I’m like a daisy. They are of an almost banal simplicity, taken for granted, nothing special. But thus being born everywhere, thus resisting the cold and the wind, those who trample me, those who do not appreciate me. So astonish only those who still have a pure heart, like that of children who, after tearing a daisy from the lawn, give it to their mother. They are purity and sweetness at the same time. Sure, sometimes I wither, but I never die.
Today I dress in the daisies of the sky.
Those who laugh more than the stars.
With the same anxiety that keeps the seed alive.
Inside the black clod.
As long as he sees the unknown desired light,
and accompany the river on its long journey.
Between monotonous shores towards a glorious sea,
where together he recognizes and reaches his goal.
I was waiting for you without knowing it,
And waiting was also love.
I remember this and nothing else,
and I can tell you nothing else,
now that the time of love is revealed.
I create dances of little balls on the wind and a rush of gladness takes my heart back.
The eyes sink into the eyes,
sweet lips come together and all the petals
fall from the sky like snow.


Ah! Do you remember the first time I went to London?
I immediately felt at home. What an incredible feeling.
As soon as I breathed that air I felt my body vibrate. I understood that this was the place of the revolutionary dreamers, the tormented poets and the different, the place for me. I'll never be able to forget my expression, my life there, the people I kewn there...
That city had kidnapped me and perhaps even I understood words in English language I've never understood perfectly.
I walked driven by curiosity, by love! I knew exactly where I was going, the fog didn't confuse me, the cold didn't stop me, I didn't even fear fatigue, for that city I challenged it. My eyes entranced by everything I saw, I had found peace in her. My soul is there, but the city now is not that one I knew when I was an Artist. 


Once upon a time there was an old sage sitting on the edge of an oasis at the entrance to a city in the Middle East.
A young man came up and asked him:
“I've never come this way. What are the inhabitants of this city like? "
The man replied in turn with a question:
"What were the inhabitants of the city you came from?"
“Selfish and bad. This is why I was happy to leave there ”.
“So are the inhabitants of this city!”, Replied the old sage.
Soon after, another young man approached the man and asked him the same question:
“I just arrived in this country. What are the inhabitants of this city like? "
The man replied again with the same question:
"What were the inhabitants of the city you come from?".
“They were good, generous, hospitable, honest”.
“Even the inhabitants of this city are like that!”, Replied the old sage.
A merchant who had brought his camels to water had overheard the conversations and when the second young man left he addressed the old man in a reproachful tone:
“How can you give two completely different answers to the same question asked by two people?
“My son”, replied the wise man, “each one carries in his heart what is within himself.
Anyone who has not found anything good in the past will not find anything good here either.
On the contrary, he who had loyal friends in the other city will also find loyal and faithful friends here.
Because, you see, every human being is led to see in others what is in his heart.

In life you always find what you expect to find .. because everyone projects outside what resides within himself.


Guerrilla Gardening is a group open to all, a group of green enthusiasts who have decided to positively interact with the urban space through small demonstrative acts, what we call green "attacks". Guerrilla Gardening actively opposes urban decay by acting against the neglect of green areas. The main activity of the group is to remodel and embellish, with plants and flowers, the flower beds and the abandoned or forgotten areas of the city. The movement was born in Italy in 2006 thanks to a group of young Milanese, founders of the group, who still follow and advise independent groups all over the world.
The city population responds well, some gardening companies help us with advice and giving us pro-cause plants and materials, others just applaud and appreciate our actions. Every day new "guerrillas" are added to our cause, to transform and re-appropriate the sterile and impersonal common spaces of the citizens. New groups are springing up in all the big cities. You too can become a Guerrilla-Gardener: document an attack and send us photos, you will be reported on our website!
Redevelop, beautify and bring color and plant life through plants and flowers in abandoned corners of the city with an unauthorized gardening activity. This is what is meant by guerrilla gardening. Unauthorized gardening attacks that, on publicly owned and privately owned but abandoned land, bring beauty and improvement to the environment.
In practice, the green guerrillas "appropriate" in the name of the community of abandoned public spaces, mortified by concrete and neglect to bring color, embellishment and decoration where it is missing. A phenomenon different from that of urban gardens that is practiced by people and for very different reasons, especially by environmental groups that refer to permaculture theories or to problems concerning land rights. Generally, groups of environmentalists take care of it and select the areas to be cultivated, also reflecting on the right to occupy and exploit the land.
In any case, it is a question, from the individual to the organized group, of non-violent protests that aim to recover the abandoned areas of the cities by planting and sowing shrubs, plants and flowers as in a real war complete with bombs - of seeds, however. And in fact, the various movements on their sites and social profiles explain how to make seed bombs or how to make sure that the chosen place is not risky both for the cultivation and for the "legality" of the action.
Guerrilla gardening persists whenever groups or individuals "secretly" plant fruit trees, or other perennial edible plants, or even simple flowers in parks, along cycle paths.
This form of gardening warfare carries behind the experience of Liz Christy, a young American citizen who in 1973, between the Bowery and Houston Street neighborhoods in New York, gave birth to a garden on an urban plot of land in state of abandonment. Today, that garden is still there: it is called Liz's Christy Community Garden and it is a lush and public space.
One of the best-known books is the book entitled Guerrilla Gardening published in 1983 by John F. Adams, which aimed to encourage gardeners to grow naturally occurring plant varieties instead of hybrid ones resulting from the artificial selection of companies. of seeds. Another book is that of Barbare Pallenberg, also entitled “Guerrilla Gardening”, who taught how to build a garden on a small budget.


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