ho comprato un quaderno ricoperto in pelle morbida invecchiata, con un laccetto che richiude il tutto, tutta quella bella carta nuova che profuma di carta e che ti fa venire voglia di scrivere cose semplici, cosa che si e' dimostrata facile nel momento in cui, ritrovandomi in un angolo della citta' inesplorato, seduta su una panchina al sole dietro una chiesa, mi sorprese la semplicita' di un lungo momento dove una vecchietta si impegnava a tagliare un pezzo di formaggio su un tovagliolo posato sulle ginocchia, pezzi che poi getava ai piccioni sottostanti... troppo bella! troppo! circondata da un silenzio assoluto tra i rumori del traffico della citta'.... un momento, e' stato, che racchiudeva un secolo...

basically what happened was.... 12.05 pm and the air warm in the blue expanse and a lovely setting really, to smoke a cigarette before i enclose myself once again into that claustrophobic place of non-living... but anyway. on a green bench in a new and unexplored corner i see the city from a different angle, like a new city, a first time encounter with a new space... when suddenly i am surprised by an amazing sight, something which in total must have taken 4 or 5 minutes, the time span of a cigarette or maybe longer... on the green bench across from me, under the patchy filtered light of trees there is an old woman, an ancient woman, from what the network of complex lines on her skin reveals; she has a red felt hat and is absorbed in the feeding of pidgeons like the woman from mary poppins at the steps of the cathedral. her hands fumble awkwardly in a plastic sac to retrieve a butter knife and a napkin which she places on her lap as she begins to cut pieces of cheese and bread for herself and the pidgeons also, perhaps. so in the time span of this slow ritual of cutting and feeding and chewing slowly and plastic bag fumbling and little feet resting on the floor with shiny black old woman's shoes, so lovely.... i melt into pure observer i am amzed at this other-wordly scene so far removed from what i have just exited. so anyway she then takes out a red pocket mirror and lipstick and applies it on a wide open mouth, and then looks up against the sun so that her large glasses become an opaque glare of sunlight. she walks away now, wobbling slowly with her large flowerprint handbag in her left hand and a crumpled napkin in the other, surrounded by her own silence as she enters once again the noisy street.