I found my bones in the Desert

I fell in love with the Desert while driving through the South West, most likely when we had the honor to perform at Paolo Soleri's magnificent Arcosanti.
It was a Sunday, and I remember lady C. and I trying hard not to blink in order not to miss anything, not even an istant of Light. We decided to perform exactly 30 minutes before the Sunset on the open air Colly Soleri Amphitheater, and we decided to go for no lights, nor on stage, nor for the audience.
Being our performance about 33 minutes long, we let our eyes adapt to the Light turning into Darkness.
Anyway, few months ago we had the luck to spend several days in the South West, and we went back to the Desert several times.
While we were driving through the Joshua Tree National Park, we decided to stop at the Cholla Garden, where the two pics up here were taken. We were miles away from Arcosanti, but yet our eyes did stop blinking as they recognized the same Light.
And right there the same Light showed me how the scars in the Cactus structure, in their bones look exactly like mine.
I am sometimes afraid my bones are getting dry, but there in the West the Desert showed me how you have to take care of yourself and build and strenghten yourself around your weak parts.
In a way, it's the same lessons I learned from the Red Woods: when they're hit by a lightning, they stay put and they keep the sick part inside, asking the bark around to grow stronger, and to protect the whole structure.
Willing to get close to an end for this post, here below some Straight guardians that looked after us while we were in Arcosanti.
Thanks to all these trees and the Cactus and thanks to the Desert, I got my bones back.

Happy new Year!

These two photos look like these Trees could be wings for my words.
We wish you and ourselves to grow wings where your and our weak parts are.
Anyhow, as I already wrote some time ago, I can't help but thinking of Pines' branches as arms holding Crosses. Blessing or cursing.
We beg for their blessing, we follow them cursing.

The Deserts are full of Death*

Are the Deserts full of Death?
This photo was taken in Joshua Tree, few weeks ago.
C. Lee and I woke up early that morning. The night before we played in Chiara Giovando's porch with our dear Ezra Buchla, facing the desert and a fire we lit to keep the warm inside.
We woke up very early and we waited to have enough Light so to watch our steps, then we started walking toward the horizon.
We were looking for the Sun.
Indeed we could feel that Desert being full of Death.
We walked together to deal with our personal Void as a whole thing.
The Desert and the Death looked after us while we were dealing with our personal Void.
The Death around us helped us filling our personal Void.

*Not back then, but right now I'm listening to Ascend's V.O.G.

[We will all] Fall

 

My dear C.Lee and I

 just got back home after spending the last 6 months in Northern America. I took plenty of pictures of majestic Trees on our journey that it shouldn't be a problem for me picking up the right one(s) for this post.

Anyhow, I decided instead to go for two pictures I took this morning of the Trees surrounding our Treehouse, the same old Trees that watched over us in all these months, standing here waiting for us to make it back.

Somehow I thought of a Giuseppe Ungaretti poem, maybe my favourite one when I was doing the 8th or 9th grade.

Si sta, come d'autunno, sugli alberi, le foglie.
(Standing, like leaves on the trees, in Fall)

But I didn't have a feeling of uncertainty, not at all. It was more something like a warm feeling of consciousness, as if I was feeling glad I could understand and explore more Ourselves through our journey, through our Path.

Thanks old friends, we made it back another time, and here you are, still looking after us.

PS: Giuseppe Ungaretti is often depicted as an old grumpy man, rooted on the "Old times" way of thinking, sometimes even as a fascist symphatizer.

When I was 17 I learned that Allen Ginsberg and the whole Beat Generation were big fans of his work, and Ginsberg was even able to meet the man once, in New York, during a charity sale for supporting young poets in needs. When asked to donate something, Giuseppe Ungaretti (I picture him with a smile on his face) with a hint of irony decided to give his younger colleague one of his white pubic hair.  

Learning from Silence

People say that if you feel scared it helps to shout louder than anybody else.
In front of these Trees lady C, our dear Ezra and I kept silent.
We won't be sharing the same eternity with these trees, we know.
Old Guardians, please remember us.
And protect us. Now, You.







To my dearest Lella, on her 60th birthday.

Reds

Today I lost it. My dear C. Lee told me she broke a mirror, and I lost it.
Am I stupid? Yes indeed.
Somehow I felt so bad in my stomach and wanted to comfort her but I couldn't.
Superstition? Yes, but it felt closer to a panic attack, and I confess I wasn't expecting such a reaction from myself.
So we decided to go for external help. We went to the Woods. We went to the Red Woods. We crossed the Red Bridge and we went straight to the beginning of the Red Woods region.

There Gigantic arrows are keeping the Sky and the land together as they are the last of a long lost species.

I Will get rid of my superstition eventually.
But I feel like those red barks gave us some kind of hope for redemption. 

Those Giant survivors from a time of Giants.

The Sinner's Prayer

My life affrights me. 

For when carefully reviewed, its whole course shows in my sight like one great sin; or atleast it is well-nigh nothing but barrenness. Or, if any fruit is seen in it, that fruit is so false, or so imperfect, or in some way or other so tainted with decay and corruption, that it must needs either fail to satisfy God, or else utterly offend Him.

St. Anselm