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

Now this is permanent

Sometimes it happens that I find myself staring at Trees, using their shadow to protect me from the Light.
So that I can try to reach their beauty as a whole.
And I can't help but feeling that they act as a filter, a barrier, protecting and yes, sometimes even limiting us from something else that is hidden behind.
I usually see gigantic Waves behind the Trees.
Here I picture a Wave of Light.
That day it was warm, Lady C. and I were driving up North through the Red Woods, where California and Oregon collides, following our dear friends White Manna (check'em out!) directions.
We were a bit sad, as it happens every time we leave the Ocean.
But we surely knew we were going back to them, to the Trees.
A tip: stop where you are, look around yourself, look for some trees, and then try to picture the Wave that i mentioned before. I believe they're there for each one of us. It doesn't mean they're always a threat, but I do like to feel the pressure for knowing they're there.

All you people yelling fire!

Yesterday night I dreamt that C.Lee and I were going up North, toward the Big Hills that always served as protection for those places.
We were standing next to what I recall being a mix of temple columns and Sequoia trees when a stream of people came from down the hill, waving torches in their hands. They wanted to burn down the Trees as if it was part of a rite. We stood there not even being able to say a word, our bodies unable to make a move. The trees were silent, they were watching all those bodies getting around them.
Suddenly something hit us hard from behind, I believe it was a gigantic wave of water, coming from where, I have no idea. I recall seeing all those people being simply washed out, while somehow C.Lee and I were protected by the biggest of the wooden giants we had watching our backs.
We lift our heads and turned to that Tree as to show our gratitude, when I woke up.

 

Here are the last photos I took of trees before leaving Italy for the US tour.
As if they were waving goodbye, these Trees shape the end of their branches to something that remind me of a Cross.
A "God speed you" to us and to the rituals they know we were going to bring around North America.
And so yesterday, while driving through Northern California and Oregon we passed through the Redwoods, and I felt like We were there representing the same Trees that said goodbye when we left.
So C.Lee and I did stop the car, and went standing next to the biggest of the Trees, and we thanked him for protecting us and for not having us washed out by that  enormous wave of water that happened in my dream.

So I missed March

 Lent is here again, tender age in bloom?

A quote to remind to myself  I missed all the special celebration for the 20 years since I went to see Nirvana I had in mind, for the 20 years since the guy decided to leave this world as we know it,  for going to work in a gas station in Maui, together with J. Morrison [I still have that hope often, after all these years], ...). 
Lady C. and I have spent the last weeks touring all over Europe.
We stop every once in a while, and we take pictures of Trees. When it is possible, we get closer to Trees, and we try to feel them, even if just by touching them.
Last time we had the chance to spend few days home, we brought our granny to see the place where she was born, and on our way we found a procession. It was a sunny day as you can see, and all that gold shone to the Sun.
The Circles surrounding the Cross are called in Italian "canti", that means something like choirs (?not sure about it...), for the sound they make while someone is carrying the Cross around.
So now, as I already told you, C.Lee and I are working on a new  album to be titled Croce (cross in Italian), right?
I took some pics then, and while looking through my camera, especially for the photos here, I couldn't stop thinking that we were witnessing Jesus turning into a Tree, him and the cross literally becoming Trees.
I decided it was a signal, I'm paranoid, so I always need to look for some kind of sure protection. Am I safe then? Is the "protect me now you" anyway always coming from my beloved Trees?
I looked at Jesus while he was turning into one, and I had my answer.

 

Do we know who our enemies are?

 I often find myself looking for enemies. I close my eyes, and I know that I'm surrounded by them. I picture myself among some trees, asking for protection, asking them how to bounce back, how to stand.
Then I try to focus, and I remind to myself that the same trees will be standing there even if I won't be needing any protection, even if I won't have any enemy to be protected from. Even if I won't be there.
So I try to focus on them, on the Trees, knowing that if I'll be needing them, they'll be standing there. Not only for me, but because that is what they do.



I often find myself being paranoid. Me myself looking to be paranoid.
I close my eyes, and I know that I easily can get there. I picture myself among enemies, even if I don't see them, knowing that the fact that I'm paranoid doesn't mean they won't be after me.
Then I try to focus, and I remind to myself that I've been quoting this last phrase since I first heard Nirvana's Territorial Pissing. Only few years ago I then read that John Lydon wrote the same exact phrase on his London flat during the early P.I.L. years.
So I decide to flip this pic upside down, where I won't see an heavy sky weighing on a dark, wavy Sea (nearby Barcelona). I will see a maximized pic of my fingertip almost touching a glossy bark. Knowing I will love that feeling, knowing it'll make that moment feeling real.
I don't know if this makes too much sense.
Anyway, 20 years today I saw Nirvana in Milan, while now I'm about to play in London.
That explains the thoughts about Cobain and Lydon.
While as for the trees, well, you know where my heart beats.
And I won't be thinking of any enemy for today, I promise.

PAIN IS ON OUR SIDE NOW

Here I am with the first post of 2014.
And the new post comes with a photo by my dear C.Lee, taken while touring south of Italy last week (in Sermoneta, at San Nicola's Church).

Through one eye of this Church we can see you, standing there, You protecting us (you the Trees). 

And this post comes also on the exact release date for Father Murphy's new EP, Pain is on our side Now.
A concept EP on Failure.

Through the one eye of this Church we can see You (You the Shame), hiding behind the Trees. The same shame that the memory of this day brings along.
Pain is on our side now as the Pain of the ones persecuted, as the Pain that will always look for the persecutors. There will never be peace for them, there's no need, there's no willing to forgive.
Failure is there to give us another chance, to try doing things in a different way.
But it ain't Failure what did happen back then. There's no chance to start over.
There will only be Shame. And no Peace, because you cannot have any Peace when you have someone else's Pain looking after you.