Category: CORNERS

City

CORNERS, JOURNAL, TRAVEL September 7, 2018

After 10 weeks,

Max and me decided to leave the tropics and move back to the city.

 

The rhythm is faster,

the noises louder,

the people different.

 

 

We found a place in Surry Hills

– little residential corner just below where the skyscrapers and the bus lanes collide.

 

 

There’s a supermarket down the road where I stop by in the morning

                                                                                     to get almond croissants,

 

a park with a rugby pitch in the middle

and a bottle shop a few steps away.

 

 

There’s no heating, the fridge is often empty and the stairs are steep,

      but it feels good to have a place to call home.

 

 

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10 Days In

CORNERS, JOURNAL, TRAVEL May 16, 2018

Moving to Australia is definitely one of the most bat-shit crazy ideas

I’ve ever had the guts to follow.

10 days in,

I’m still living in a hostel,

picking the combination of clothes out of the suitcase sitting in the corner of this room,

while the girl sleeping on the bottom bed is still in her dress from yesterday’s night

and the 40-year-old man is half drunk from his unplanned pub crawl.

And despite the air chilling my bones,

the $12 for a drink and still getting lost around these streets,

the thought of being on the other side of the world doesn’t feel so scary

if you find your bunch of people to talk to on a balcony,

all things light like how you like your tea or if it’s okay to wear slippers to go out, tv series and learning to find your balance.

So here I find myself,

leaving the thought that flying halfway across the world wasn’t a matter of stubbornness,

but the evolution of me turning into me,

scratches

and bad habits

and tattoos

and questionable taste in late night music altogether.

10 days in and I can’t say I feel at home,

but a step closer to how I’ve always liked to things to be.

It’s mad how comfortable you can feel around people you’ve only shared

a handful of days with.

 

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36 hours in Rome with Ma’

CORNERS, JOURNAL, TRAVEL March 28, 2018

The first day of Spring is my mother’s birthday.

 

I’m no good at birthday gifts

– she must have a pile of pattern socks and teas in metallic boxes by now.

 

 

So I bought two train tickets.

 

We woke up at 4.30am

and with no clues, she followed me to the station when it still was night outside. She found out few minutes before the departure I was taking her to Rome.

 

 

Time to leave our bag to the apartment in the centre (Maison Romana)

and we left wandering around its cobbled streets.

We’d only stop when the stomach complained or when our feet were hurting or when the view got too pretty.

 

And what we realized is that you don’t need the whole world in your pocket

to find yourself happy.

 

 

Sometimes, a sunrise and two days of long walks and a plate of pasta and mugs of coffee and the sun warming your bones can turn into the softest birthday gift.

 

And it’s nice to wet your lips with wine after cheering to yourself, to early mornings on a train, to Rome and to things to come.

 

 

Whatever works.

As simple as that.

 

 

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  • Maison Romana, apartment
  • Pasticceria Regoli, breakfast
  • Trastevere, afternoon stroll
  • Papa Re, lunch // carciofi alla romana + puntarelle

Hard edges and Bad coffee but with laughter

CORNERS, JOURNAL, TRAVEL March 26, 2018

I should be leaving the city in a handful of minutes

– fractions of the life I’ve tried on for a few days.

 

I’m at the bar down the road,

keeping my fingers crossed to meet some of those people you only meet in your travels,

bare enough to tone down the tangles messing around with my sleep,

good enough to smooth these hard edges of mine.

 

Keeping my fingers crossed to finally find a place to make home

– even if just for a handful of months,

even if just for a slice of time.

 

 

But I sit here,

playing darts with my days trying to hit the mark,

ignoring this bad sight of mine and my perpetual fear of not being enough,

of making a false step,

 

hoping to hit that fucking mark.

 

 

There are two bartenders making my coffee on a random early spring day

and I almost asked them if maybe,

by any chance,

they needed another pair of spare hands to dry all those chipped ceramic plates.

If maybe,

by any chance,

they were looking for another laughter to join theirs when dropping things

behind the counter, not taking things too seriously.

 

Because I came to realize that the infinite thirst I’ve been trying to swab for all this time with clothes I don’t have the occasions to wear and black ink,

kicking in my sleep and begging me to listen,

was nothing but a cry for lightheartedness,

fresh air

and coffees from whichever bar down the road of an ordinary city.

 

 

Lightness isn’t superficiality,

it is daring to be yourself,

trying lives on until you find the one that fits snugly.

 

I’m surely no expert when it comes to matters of the heart,

nor am I fortune-teller interpreting stars and signs,

but I’ve learnt that  the best gift you can give yourself is to let go of

the buoy of taking yourself too seriously

and get lost.

 

And when the soles of your shoes are paper-thin

and you run out of breath,

sit on a bench,

enjoy the view

and then go back to getting lost until you stumble on what you’ve been looking for.

And call it by its name

– little does it matter if we’re talking about heart,

balance

or god.

 

 

And what you may find is a bar down the road of whichever ordinary city,

where the coffee may be bad

– but it’s served by people with a smile drawn on their cheeks who laugh when they stumble behind the counter.

 

A tiny memo saying that it’s okay if you stumble,

that it’s fine to not be too hard on yourself.

 

 

 

A hot coffee, two bartenders behind the counter and all that’s within.

As simple as that.

 

 

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The first day of Spring

CORNERS, JOURNAL, TRAVEL March 24, 2018

I took a plane to Berlin, to breathe for a while.

Not that I have a lot to complain about – life flowing smoothly between

home-made dinners and ideas to put together in a life I get to choose.

 

 

But for some reason,

in this impeccable shoving of days like pearls in a thread,

I can’t seem to find balance and all those other phrasings to stay afloat.

 

So I get on trains and spend long nights in Nordic hostels of bunk beds and cheap drinks.

I look for what I want to hear in the words of those I happen to find along the way,

those things I don’t find the courage to trust – eternal promises I make with myself to plunge right into what I want and do it for real, this time.

 

Because this life I get to choose is waiting for me right there

on the seabed I don’t know the shape of,

under those layers of blue I keep having second thoughts about.

And I kick

and I shake

and I wiggle on this surface that now feels so tight.

 

And I wish I could just take a deep breath and row with who it is that I am and see what colour the seabed I dream about really is.

But for some reason, I hold tight to all trivial excuses and lighthearted talks,

stupid water wings I insist to wear not to go deep.

 

 

And I’m now drinking mint tea in an ordinary city,

yet another shot to find a place to call home, a space to fit in

– knowing for sure that all I want is to disappear in a line of bubbles flowing above my head, see the water get blue, black, and down, down a bit more,

touch the ocean floor

and grab a handful of sand.

And in that place so far from all ideas I’d ever painted in my mind until then

– in the furthest corner from what I’d ever known –

find home.

 

 

So here I find myself,

with miles under the soles of my shoes,

with the sketch of a butterfly given to me as a gift on the first day of spring.

Reminding me that spending too long anchored to the ground, you forget how to breathe.

 

 

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COPENHAGEN

CORNERS, TRAVEL February 7, 2018

 

On a weekday,

Giorgia and I decided to head to windy Denmark.

A bit for the fun of it, a bit because staying still truly isn’t our thing.

 

 

We arrived at Steel House Copenhagen, left our luggage and wandered the city.

 

We got lost few times while she was trying to vlog and me reading the maps,

had long breakfasts at Kompa 9 Cafe and pastries at Sankt Peders Bageri,

visited the Design Museum

and stopped at Flottenhimer for a hot soup while it was snowing outside

and Belgian hot chocolate at The Living Room.

Also had the best cheesecake at Bertels Salon and took a walk in muddy Christiania.

 

 

Everywhere you lay your eyes on seems to be at the right place,

people balancing the colours of their clothes in a beautifully essential way,

buildings not exceeding with geometries and quietly nesting there for a precise sum of reasons.

 

Copenhagen treated us just right.

 

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         Kompa 9 Cafe

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Bertels Salon

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The Living Room

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sankt Peders Bageri

 

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Design Museum

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Milano Fashion Week 2018

CORNERS, TRAVEL January 15, 2018

January 2018

On our usual sushi night, my friend Giorgia and I decided we’d go to Milano Fashion Week the following day.

 

7.30am, alarm, get in her red Fiat 500, sing karaoke and drink coffee from a thermos. Drive to Navigli.

We walked to the White Show and dived into Miao Ran‘s design, wore our pretentious attitude and kept hydrated with white wine.

We attended a catwalk, walked Via Tortona and had an aperitif on Navigli.

 

 

We went there for the fashion shows, ended up bargaining silver earrings

and snake-shaped rings with a wildcat peddler.

 

It was a nice Saturday.

 

WHITE Show @ SuperStudioPiu

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Giorgia

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Miao Ran Studio

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Via Tortona, Sudan Bar

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IMG_9266   Navigli

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LONDON

CORNERS, TRAVEL December 12, 2017

December

 

On the way back from a trip,

I ponder small revolutions – little does it matter if the time off was as little as a day or a whole year, little does it matter if we’re talking a new haircut, a drawing to get secretly inked on your skin or how to spend my next span of time.

 

On the way back from an interval of days, trivial weight of time taken off from early mornings and duty calls, I realized i’m too stubbornly ambitious to be taking myself so seriously, to spend my months chained to a cracked vynil playing the same day over and over and over. Alarm off at 7.27am, yoghurt, coffee, bike ride, tap in at the reception, kill time, more coffee, small talks in the elevator, tap out, bike ride, sleep.

 

Same tastes, same rhythm.

Word for word.

 

On the way back from this trip, bracket of days I let myself marvel at a city I’ve never loved. And there’s little as striking as washing all expectations away in the morning and enjoy the little things.  

 

So let impulse take over and show you how a pinch of self-confidence can start a fire in your eyes, in your chest, in your veins.

 

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Petersham Nurseries

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House of Vans

 

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                                                                                        Look mum no hands !

 

 

 

@paulinerocchia

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AVEIRO

CORNERS, TRAVEL November 15, 2017

Maybe because it’s autumn, And I let my bare feet walk on cold sand,

 

Maybe because I’ve been looking for an idea of life for so long, And drew it on sheets without lines confining the words,

Maybe because the salty air makes my eyes look greener, keener.

but on this endless beach, time marked by the waves, ruffling, breaking, readjusting,

Here I found what makes me feel mild, soft,

 

And it took so many steps and bets with luck and reading horoscopes to find this secret I’ve always been carrying in the pocket of my jacket,

 

To find home.

 

 

 

Praia da Barra

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