Tag: island life

australia

CORNERS, JOURNAL, TRAVEL March 1, 2019

Months of marble and silk

Warm bread and instant coffee

Nights in dorms sharing your sleep with strangers and tangling dreams

Ideas like ash on the balcony, talking about nothing and about it all

And long sunsets

The money running low and the wine at the end of the day

The planes we almost missed

The skin almost sunburnt

Tired feet and eyes filled

But most of all

These months have been a full heart.

Mesi di marmo e di seta

Pane caldo e caffe istantaneo

Notti in camerate a dividere il sonno con sconosciuti e sogni intrecciati

Idee come cenere sulla terrazza dove si parlava del niente,

dove si parlava un po’ del tutto

E lunghi tramonti

I soldi contati e il vino a fine giornata

Gli aerei quasi persi

La pelle quasi bruciata

I piedi stanchi e gli occhi pieni

Ma soprattutto

Questi mesi

Sono stati cuore che si riempiva.

ZADAR

CORNERS, TRAVEL April 4, 2017

Little does it matter where you’re headed as long as you go at it.

So give yourself some time,

sit in front of a blank page and doodle your thoughts,

what you like, what keeps you rolling and things will start taking a shape on their own.

All you need is to pause for a while and listen to your guts.

I spent the past few days on and off trains

and car rides and napping in between concerts and improvised meals,

but nothing makes me happier than experimenting.

So i traveled half the country for a concert of a group discovered the week before.

I ended up having a croissant in the middle of the night with strangers

and then driving through borders and staring at the landscape move out of the window.

I spent halves of hours looking at the sun setting the sky on fire when everything around was left still,

as if the whole world was holding its breath.

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I’ve studied abandoned houses as works of art,

climbed hundreds of stairs and talked a bunch of different languages and dreamt projects and let people around listen and shape and teach me how the world goes from their perspective.

I let the salty air tangle my hair and as my gran used to say, breathed out all poison and breathed in freshness.

 

So let your hair dance in the wind,

you’ll find someone who’ll be happy to help you

untie those knots.

Little does it matter where you come from and at what pace you’re going as long as you keep on trying.

And your feet may hurt

and your eyes feel tired

but the best thing you can give yourself is to keep on rolling.