I left my city because the limits of the world are sometimes tight for me, and I tend to idealize it and dream about it to paint it more saturated than it is, and maybe I'm wrong but it makes me feel good because I know that reality is what it is based on our perspective, based on our way of seeing things, the world, life itself. I like to think about the world with its flaws and its strengths, and follow my dreams.
Sometimes they scare me, it scares me to go away and chase them, but then I promptly return with a wealth of happiness and magical experiences. It's never enough for me. But I always miss my home, it's not a perfect place but I always miss it. I wouldn't be able to live there only for its limits imposed by the world, how would I do? It's not my choice. But it's my choice to go back when I can, to hug and talk to those I love for that time I stay there.
I don't want to escape, I want to leave to smell my perfume, my air.
What's your favorite perfume? Surely that of my city, the sea in autumn and the food prepared by my father.
They are perfumes that fill your heart, and there are infinitely many good perfumes in the world, but if the one from my country can be your favorite, it is right not to waste its essence, however eternal it may be. But each of us has our own perfume, somewhere in the world.
My perfume is jasmine because it reminds me of summer evenings when I was a little girl and I had so many plans for my future.
My mother was a fashion designer and always wanted to work but she lived in a country where men didn't want her to work. Men thought her fantasy was evil.
he wanted to dress black women in a country where they always wore dark colors and black. She fought to bring color to a sad country full of people who always judged her.
But she continued to create, she was always there for all those women who wanted to be not only dressed but also listened to. But men judged her badly because she put strange ideas of freedom to those women who were often treated badly by their husbands. I'm talking about a small town that wasn't as modern as it is today.
Those were bad times for women, and men expected women to all stay home and have children.
My mother had received the gift of creativity and she would design her own dress patterns in order to bring some happiness into the lives of those sad people.
But everyone made war on her and so when she met my father she was forced to leave her country because she understood that it was very difficult to destroy a tradition that had been going on for many years.
She was sad about her choice, which my father had requested, but she always went back to her country and took an interest in those women. She was a kind of fairy who wore beautiful things, who listened, who did magic with clothes and everyone loved her.
She passed on this creativity to me but I live in a country now where women only think about money, where they never smile and where they only think about buying dark and black clothes and I can't do anything because I'm judged and criticized and I feel very uncomfortable because i don't do the same things they do and i don't have any friends and i only listen to my cats.
What is the use of so much imagination if you can't give it to anyone? What is the use of creating so many things if I then have to keep them locked up in the attic?
Young people with an ancient soul are an asset that must be held in high regard because they have received as a gift the extraordinary bridges that unite ages and generations. The price they will have to pay will be that of never feeling totally part of the past, part of the peers around them. But if they exploit their gift in an intelligent way, they will have the opportunity to have a broader vision than many others and not to live in one time, but to experience, with full awareness of the most minute dynamics, the transition from one era to another. another one. They will not be inhabitants of the past, they will be inhabitants of history. Children of the past with an eye to the future. I looked up and saw the plants whose foliage swayed slowly in the wind. I allowed myself to feel that warm breeze on the skin of my face. It wasn’t true that the world was going very fast: it was I who was running wildly. The world was still, no, it danced happily with an age-old calm. My rest lay in the wind. The most beautiful time in the world the magic hour is to be in the countryside. you don’t meet anyone. The air is cheerful bright and fresh the larks challenge the sun sewing in the blue while finches get wet in the rare puddles that the north wind does not have still drunk. It is then that I I feel myself I feel my body dismembered in infinite lightness. This tacit acknowledgment it is a precious solitude which cannot be purchased. Men look like hallucinations to me bad fairy tales delusional utopias now that in their lairs they eat for a long time long wishing to live. Poor deluded! they do not know that I’m thinking of them here.
Today is the day of turning point, of change, of scientific progress, of revolutionary discoveries in the medical, technical, social fields…. But today is also the day where useless vaccines are made only for a pure purpose of profit, of gain, today is the day in which we treat the land that welcomes us like a doormat and that presents wonders everywhere but that we, with the our selfishness, indifference, with our dull mentality, we are turning into a huge dustbin. Today is the day we prefer to ignore, rather than act, thinking “But yes, if I’m not promoting a change someone else will do, we are still 7 billion.” Today is the day of fake smiles and not laughter, it is the day when if you see a person in difficulty, who is sick, you prefer to go straight and mind your dicks, “anyway I don’t get anything out of it.” Today is the day when a like is worth more than a “hey, are you okay?” It is the day when being yourself is seen as a taboo, as a wrong choice…. It is the day in which homosexuals and transsexuals still feel uncomfortable even just walking around the square, because “how disgusting, but they did so at home”. It is the day when you are not free to be able to love a person, it is the day when children cannot dress up barbies and girls cannot compete with toy cars. It is the day when abortion is still seen not as a right, but as a heresy towards the Catholic Church. It is the day when a single mother cannot be seen as a brave girl, who has decided to dedicate body and soul to the dedication of her son, making major sacrifices, but is seen as a whore. Today is the day when animals are treated as if they do not have a life, a soul, and are mistreated only for the purely playful purpose. Today is the day when it is harder to find work than a needle in a haystack. Today is the day when those who differ are seen in a bad way, it is the day when those who have their own personality can only be insulted mistreated, laughed at. Today is the day when we should use our hands to embrace, and not to hurt, it is the day when love is transmitted almost and exclusively through social media, and is no longer demonstrated with gestures. Today is the day whenif we see a person from a country that is not ours, it is immediately “let’s move away, it can be dangerous”, today is the day we live to appear and not to be, it is the day when the main goals of one’s life are to be full of money and ride a Lamborghini and only then (perhaps) to find a person who truly loves us and build a family with him. Today is the day when we could do, but we don’t, the day when love is more an abstract conception than a concrete pillar at the foundation of our truly being ourselves happy. Today is the day when we are almost in 2020, but more than people I only see beautiful empty frames turning, without a soul, without their own thoughts and without ideals. Today is the day we should say “finally”, and isn’t there still a long way to go?
Every time I find myself in a new place or even if I just wander around I start to scan the places and imagine what it would be like to live there as a bum. So I look for corners to shelter, where I could escape the elements, ways to get food, money or clothes, possible companies and I analyze, weighing how hard it can be, I study the movements of those who already lead this life. I have lived in Palermo for most of my life, it is a city full of people, sunny for most of the year, one of the most trampled by tourists in the world, perfect for life as a stray. And vagrants (it’s not a sarcastic joke) is full of them. I have lived for quite some time near the BALLARÒ market district so I have really seen many, many, everyone has their own style, everyone has their habits, each their dignity and even the pet can vary, too in Milan, in the Cenisio area, a vagabond had a beautiful rooster as a pet, enviably kept, well fed, beautiful shiny, proud, you went shopping and found him in front of the supermarket wandering with his head held high. Seeing some of them made your heart cry, while others, it seems ugly to say, made you hate the life of a privileged student. There were days that I met one under the house, he was always on the bench and sometimes I stopped to exchange a few words and he spoke in dialect and I gave him my best drawings because they were more precious to me than money. Then sometimes I would bring him some hot food cooked by me, typical things of my country. He was fine, calm, serene, he talked about math and plants and he knew about it and I went to the Ethiopian shop on the corner and bought him some colorful blankets, some sweaters and some flowers because I wanted to cheer him up. He didn’t want to live in the dorm. A wandering woman, on the other hand, was sad, she was always sleeping at the station, alone, downcast, I think she was actually a woman who had lost her job and always carried a suitcase with her, with everything she owned inside I suppose. I saw her every morning and I very much hoped she would get away from there, I was afraid they would beat her. When I saw her sleeping, I left her a plastic container with hot food. I had a house, or rather a room, tiny but for me it was a lot. I led a life where the only time I expected was the night to study in silence. I didn’t know who ate and dressed in style and I wondered what it would be like to take courage in both hands and stop the life that I had never wanted, not even imagined and give up everything, be left with nothing.
Daughter of the "Father of the Fatherland", General Aung San, killed when she was only two years old, Aung San Suu Kyi was born in Yangon on June 19, 1945. At the age of 15 she left Burma to follow her mother, who became ambassador in India. Much of her life, the Asian leader spends abroad, especially in Great Britain. But in 1988, thanks to her mother's illness, Aung San Suu Kyi returned to her homeland. And it was precisely towards the end of the 1980s that his political career and in favor of human rights began, when the country, governed by the military since 1962, was shaken by massive demonstrations in favor of democracy, then repressed in blood. Suu Kyi starts giving speeches in front of hundreds of thousands of demonstrators and quickly becomes an opposition leader. In this capacity, he then decides not to leave Burma and begins to travel across the country preaching democratic change.
The regime, bewildered by the speed of events and in an attempt to stem the protests, concedes the elections, but first, in 1989, forced the opposition leader to house arrest. The new National League of Democracy (NLD), led by a Suu Kyi prisoner in her own house, triumphs at the polls in 1990, but the vote is not recognized by the generals and the opposition leader continues to be under house arrest, where she will remain for many more years. And it is during this period that she was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1991, then withdrawn only in 2012. An international recognition that, however, does not bend the regime, which continues to maintain Suu Kyi's life amid restrictions and deprivation of freedom.
In 1999, the generals offered her the opportunity to visit her sick husband, on condition, however, that she no longer returned to Burma, but Suu Kyi refused. With no Internet access and severe mail restrictions, Suu Kyi has no contact with her children. But if his opposition to the military dictatorship is viewed with admiration abroad, not everyone at home shares his unwillingness to any kind of compromise with the regime. The wall against the wall, according to some, has kept Burma steady for twenty years.
Aung San Suu Kyi's house arrest was lifted in 1995. But this does not mean freedom for the Asian leader. In fact, at the behest of the regime, women cannot leave the country and are constantly monitored. Over the years, many world leaders have been interested in her, such as the then UN Secretary General, Kofi Annan, and Pope John Paul II, as well as the United States and the European Union. In 2002, following strong pressure from the United Nations, Aung San Suu Kyi was granted greater freedom of action in the country. But on May 30, 2003, while on board a convoy with numerous supporters, a group of soldiers opened fire and massacred many people, and only thanks to the quick reflexes of her driver did she manage to escape. After this episode she was once again placed under house arrest, with the relative deterioration of her health.
In 2020 Aung San Suu Kyi's party, the National League for Democracy, again wins the political elections in Myanmar. General Min Aung Hlaing, head of the armed forces, disputes the results of the ballot and asks for it to be re-examined, but the electoral commission rejects the accusations. On February 1, 2021, the Burmese armed forces carry out a coup d'état and arrest Aung San Suu Kyi and other leaders of the ruling party, sparking mass protests in the country that are violently repressed. On December 6, 2021, Aung San Suu Kyi was sentenced to 4 years in prison on charges of inciting dissent against the military and violating anti Covid measures.
On Monday, December 6, 2021, a court in Naypyidaw, the capital of Myanmar, sentenced Aung San Suu Kyi, the Burmese political leader to house arrest since the military coup last February, to four years in prison. Aung San Suu Kyi was sentenced to two years for sedition and two years for violating coronavirus restrictions during the election campaign. Along with her, former Burmese president Win Myint was also sentenced.
The sentence was widely expected: after the February coup, the Burmese army established a military dictatorship in which freedoms were restricted and the judicial system brought under control. Monday's sentence also concerns only part of the trial in which Suu Kyi is accused and a part of the accusations that have been made against her: the judges have yet to rule on the crimes of corruption, violation of state secrets and the law on telecommunications.
The charges are more than ten, and Suu Kyi faces a sentence of over 100 years in prison.
The February coup was organized by the head of the Burmese armed forces, General Min Aung Hlaing, who later assumed the role of head of government, while former General Myint Swe, who had been one of the two vice presidents since 2016, was was appointed interim president. Until then, Aung San Suu Kyi, winner of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1991, was de facto head of the government. The coup took place on the day when the new Parliament was due to meet for the first time after the elections last November, clearly won by the National League for Democracy (NLD), the party of Aung San Suu Kyi, and lost by the Party for Solidarity and Development of the Union (USDP), supported by the military.
For months after the coup, thousands of people had protested in various cities of the country against the military junta and for the restoration of the elected government: the protests, especially this spring, had involved hundreds of thousands of people. The military junta has responded with a harsh repression: according to the non-governmental Assistance Association for Political Prisoners, 10,600 people have been arrested for political crimes since February, and 1,303 have been killed in the clashes and repression that followed.
However, the Burmese regime is far from stable: Myanmar's economy has collapsed and according to various analyzes the population is on the verge of a very serious famine. The military junta is also diplomatically isolated. In addition, in recent months, part of the opposition has begun to organize itself as a military force, with acts of guerrilla warfare, so much so that it is feared that a civil war could break out in the country.
It is not clear where and under what conditions Suu Kyi, who is 76, will have to serve her sentence. The Burmese leader has been in detention since February, she is not allowed to communicate with the outside world and there is very little news about her. News about the trial was also very limited: the military junta among other things banned Suu Kyi's lawyers from speaking to the media.
Certain words reminded me of what I wrote today on some protests videos in Italy. Unfortunately I no longer recognize this Italian state as my country because Italy has changed, the situation has worsened and there is no longer any freedom here and I would like to leave. I have fought since I was a young girl for many causes but until now it had never happened to find such a “Nazi” situation in the Italian government. And so I am very disappointed, angry and really sad and maybe soon I will have to look for another place where I can be without being forced to do something I don’t want and can’t do. I don’t feel at home in this country anymore. I no longer feel free and my rights are trampled on and canceled out every day. I honestly believe that only a revolution could change the world situation. But now people are all manipulated and enslaved by social media and do not understand what the truth is. So I have no hope that the world will get better. Italy has disappointed me and I don’t think I’ll be able to stay here again. And the fault lies with a Nazi government that is persecuting us. The news does not say what is really happening, no mass media tells the truth, and they are all sold by now and I am tired tired tired ..
I am an Italian artist and also an art therapist. In my country, Italy, so full of art, we artists are seen as useless people. However, we have some nice things. But our economic value is zero. We are a nullity to this company. I had an art blog and I deleted it. I had a poetry blog and I deleted it. Poetry and art are considered useless things in my country. If you produce you exist but if you don’t produce you don’t exist. It is really sad but now this is the situation.
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 