Saturday, December 18, 2010



A drop water of you were if
what you do would?
Cliff the to cling?
Go let?
The waterfall enjoy?

For some unknown reason these words were following me one day and I played with them and tumbled them and imagined them like the drops of water...
I don"t know maybe you"ll find it inspiring...
Inspiration , like water is unstoppable...

Monday, May 24, 2010

The Passage and a Meeting

story by Rosa Anna Nastro in which we learn more about Madame Butterfly...

(For the previous section, see: this post.

It lasted just a second. After jumping into the pond, Cahetel felt like he was fluctuating in an indefinite space, dragged by a force like fog dispersed by a strong wind through a valley. His body had no weight, his mind was completely free. Suddenly, his body was painful and heavy again, the air flowed through his lungs. He was reborned. When he opened his eyes, he saw a pale light surrounding him. This light passed from yellow, to orange and, finally to red. At last, a dazzling blue lightning, then the darkness. After few seconds, Cahetel’s eyes adapted to the dark atmosphere and he realized he was in a round room made by a dark stone. There were just two windows, high in the wall. A pale light enlightened part of the wall and of the floor, where he was seated. He explored the floor itself by his hands and he realized he was in a circle, with some water flowing through it. But, after few minutes the water disappeared, revealing the opalescent stones that formed the circle itself. He looked at the room intently, and even if it was night, he was almost sure it was empty with the exception of some mirrors hanging from the walls. Even the high ceiling seemed brilliant, but he wasn’t able to recognize the nature of the matter it was made by. Paying more attention, he noticed the mirrors were able to reflect the light entering through the windows, giving some kind of lightening to the room. Like a dream, the pale light of a candle appeared at the side of a beautiful mirror, whose frame was accurately carved. Then, Cahetel realized he wasn’t alone in the room. A woman was seated in front of the mirror, brushing her long hair with grace and care. The candle floating in the air. “Finally a pilgrim from Nowhere” said a voice, calmly. The young man noticed the image reflected by the mirror: it was a charming woman, with an indefinable age. “Lately, some fleeting ghosts came from the same place. I let them pass, but they annoy me now…”. She stopped brushing, looking at the pilgrim through the mirror. His eyes were deep, dark with a light inside, a sort of flame. “Dear Madame, my name is Cahetel. The Red Spirits sent me to the Fifth Colony” he said standing up and making a bow. She stood up. “Very interesting. So, they opened the passage. You must be very important”. When she started moving, the young man noticed her face changing appearance: in a moment she was young, but suddenly she looked like an old woman. Moreover, when she started walking it seemed she had two different images, following and, at the same time, overlapping each other. Cahetel wasn’t able to move or to speak. “Give me your hand, so I can see who you are…”. When she saw the circle in the palm of his hands, she looked with her penetrating, mysterious gaze into his eyes.”I can’t stop you, Blue Pilgrim”. Then, Cahetel felt like a heavy force had released him. He breathed deeply. “Do you have any message from Him?”she said while turning back and going to sit at the mirror. “No, Milady” he answered without knowing the reason. “Oh! I’ll wait for Him. I know. He’ll come back”. So, she started brushing her hair again. Calmly. With

grace. In that moment a pale blue light spread from the surface of the ceiling to the mirrors. Madame Butterfly set him free… A disk of blue light extended till the circle on the floor, wrapping the voyager who felt his body dissolving like fog. Again.

The strange tall man took Laura’s hand. The little girl looked at him puzzled. “Who are you? What is your name?”. He smiled “I’ll tell you when you’ll be older”. The man opened her hand and, rapidly, placed something in it. A short lightning spread from her closed fingers but, when she opened them, there was nothing. A wind moved her long, black hair. The man smiled again. “We will meet again, when you are ready Laura”. The girl was completely confused, but at the same time, she felt comfortable. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He pointed to something behind the girl. A bird was waiting on a roof. She turned on her side and when she looked again to him, he wasn’t there. He had disappeared.

Friday, April 30, 2010

Rose The One, Happy Birthday Rosa

It is so nice to have another day for celebration:)
Have a wonderful Birthday dear Rosa,
Thank you for sharing with us your creativity and Inspiration:)
Lots of hugs and kisses

Monday, April 26, 2010

Happy Birthday Zoe!

Color of Mind

"I have dreamed in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind."

Emily Brontë

Created for Zoe...additional artwork (inserted card) by Aaron Goland.

Zoe Blue

I love YOU
Zoe Blue

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

The Sandcastle...Let's play

The Sandcastle, it never lasts long.
To build it: is it right or is it wrong?
Nobody ever lives in it.
Why does anybody even bother making it?

The first rain or tide will wash the walls away.
Will children even remember their play?
The splenid Sandcastle will become again
nothing more then a sand, dull and plain.

But what can we ask for more?
We live for new ideas to explore.
Time is not only measured by sand,
We measure it any way we can comprehend.


Please feel free to add to the post...

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

The Best Thing In The World

From the Villa: The Romantic

The Best Thing In The World
"What's the best thing in the world?
June-rose, by May-dew impearled;
Sweet south-wind, that means no rain;
Truth, not cruel to a friend;
Pleasure, not in haste to end;
Beauty, not self-decked and curled
Till its pride is over-plain;
Light, that never makes you wink;
Memory, that gives no pain;
Love, when, so, you're loved again.
What's the best thing in the world?
—Something out of it, I think."
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Happy Birthday Vesna!

Sunday, April 11, 2010

An Ignorant Witch and A Tall Scared Man

I HAD to run. His shadow covered mine. The Moon became his partner and Moon followed me too.

Then she appeared. She looked up and I realized I AM a tall man.
“Can you help me little witch?” I asked,  “I am a monster, a man afraid of himself”.
She couldn’t be less interested. “There is full World of those”, she said and flew away on her broom towards the full Moon.

Friday, April 9, 2010


“I have never seen something like this”

John stares the long white bared body on the red floor, unable to move.
“And he is not dead, that’s what the doctor says, he is not dead”.
“No he is not. His heart is still beating slowly but steady, the drug is keeping the body alive in the throes of death”.

He looks around… the shoes on a puddle of blood, a table, two cups, the knife, the wooden rosary and the cassock, …

“John, come here! Look at this!” In one of the shoes he finds a syringe, on a written paper:
“Suffer the long dying, as you made me suffer last two years, father – Emma”

(For Prompt 2).

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

The Incarnated Fear of Forgetting - Prompt #2

photography by Diane Powers

Victor was an ill mannered man of staggering genius. A lean shadowy giant with long wiry fingers dressed in elegant rags. He lived in a dark neglected manor, avoiding all. Shoes creaked the floor boards as he walked the halls. Remnants of a painful beautiful past. Doll creations from a conveyor belt that he fashion from the steel of an abandoned factory. No matter what her face forever appearing in the porcelain.