Dialogue with myself…

At some point I do not care, but after many observations on a site that I post photos, so I’m a blogger so, and from time to time I write some more, more about me trying to put in value, my desires, my aspirations, my aspirations, or what I believe God has endowed me with.

Sometimes reading I realize what I do, whether I try to be fashionable as a blogger, or I try to make myself known. Even if what I write could be considered naive literature, I try to expose the exposed photographs to offset the naivety of what I write and to capture as much as the interest of one or the other on the blog.

Unfortunately, but unnecessary, because only a certain segment of bloggers are interested in what I post. I do not want to like it because I do not use it for anything, except it can leave a footprint of ephemeral passes through which someone looks at them, and only so.

Very few comment, even I use this principle because of the lack of available time. Is today’s technology limited to just that?

Art, art, art often lost illusions, desperate dreams, or perhaps some kind of time. Each of us has something to say, to show to others, and when there are many exciting things, really interesting, they are not noticed, sometimes avoided by many, and even commented in a negative way.

I’m not the one able to express myself, but let’s just say a little review of what we have done so far and maybe what I did not, but I would like to do.

But if you are good to think everything, but absolutely everything is reduced to money, which is rightly said (that money is the eye of the Devil), they do not smell, that’s it. Life is a poetry for many, but if you do not have a full stomach, you cannot think, you cannot write, you cannot create, paraphrasing a famous quote in this way.

That gives us today’s society, this alternative as being a spam coming into your life and you cannot get rid of you and stem indifferent security you are using, once again proving the cruel reality of our everyday life.

Too few remain among those who “consume art” or “devour art”, generally it is that when the entrance to the museum is free to stand in, I know very well that because I have seen with my own eyes, either because they have nothing to do that night, whether they have nothing to watch on television or simply bored with the internet.

The education of many young people today is brief, precarious, the simple date of some parents who have been accustomed to themselves as well as their parents. And so on. If you go for example on ordinary days when it is not crowded and you want to relax, either to look closer to the paintings of some great masters is also complicated because the ticket prices are rather stiff for ordinary people with low incomes and if you want to take pictures are aberrantly big if you are seen at the entrance with a professional device, as if you do not know what profits from that photo, even if you do it for your soul.

Go to libraries and libraries to search for books, whether to buy or borrow, see fewer and fewer people. I wonder, why?

Art is not yet a way of relaxing the brain? Each of us is a little bit artist our way of being, to create something to do, later not to be ashamed of when the time of the truth comes, and the time at which you will take stock of what did you do, asking yourself a question, what am I doing nice and useful in this life?

It’s great for yourself to see, visualize what you have created, and enjoy yourself as if future generations can read or watch them as you always wanted, and so in this way you are soaking your merits. But most people do not have such a vision , they are not interested, they enjoy the moment, they live the moment without ever thinking about the future or what will follow.

No longer than yesterday, for example, I have seen on TV a story about two obscure actors of our contemporary life, second hand actors who although artists have not done much, either in life or on stage. I for one do not remember that they be excelled with some devices than that when I saw them I do not like indifferent of his roles, but later said they have found serenity and peace of mind in other countries like England or Spain, in other words, they have moved permanently there. And at some point you ask yourself the question why did they do that?

By this approach I have understood that they have found their purpose, purpose, and I believe that even though life is not easy for them, even if the language barrier is quite large, it can still be passed over time and with a lot of work.

That’s why I admire them and I cherish them because they had the power and the courage to take their lives away from absolutely nothing, but I do not admire others who, in various forms, talk about nationalism but having a domicile in another country.

At one point, I could do the same thing they did, I would do the same, not to talk about nationalism, but to move me elsewhere. And why?  In order to be respected for what I do and for what I want to do from now on.

The opening to a new life was given to me at a certain moment by a bank director who, among other things, had the courage to tell me:

“What do you do with the specializations and licenses you have in various fields and for which you have worked hard to get them if you cannot benefit from them to achieve what you want?” I said he was supported to get where I wanted … and is not he right?, well, yes, even a lot of justice.

I know someone who, at one point, has done with the help and support of a benevolent one, who probably liked it.

But I have no one and I have to work a lot, so I can do something, but I often fail, and that’s what makes me psychic. I did not want to cry or attract the mercy of one or the other, but only to show “the tragic fate,” if I am allowed to express myself like that, of one who is trying hard to promote his own art.

It is quite difficult and difficult and as I am, it is also younger than me. Those who are right are not interested in others, but at a certain moment I cannot see with sadness “what price do you have to pay for it,” thus putting my lid on top of me and pulling away from reality.

And yet I do not give up, because I do not want the dough from which I’m build I do not allow it, but I will go further as my karma and my conscience dictate, even if I would turn the world backwards.

It will take into account the criticism but the people really feel something for me and love me wholeheartedly and believe in my creative potential, and I hope what I do to gain true artistic value.

That’s why I’m going forward, and I keep going even though sometimes I’m taking a few steps back like a crab.

And as a natural compensation of what I have done so far are the photos that I have posted, which express life, continuous movement, but which mostly hide other stories that I still have no courage to tell or tell them, and which often even hide, and alternative feelings or frustrations in my rebellious soul, which can only be deciphered in parallel mirrors. Is the key hidden there? But whoever has the courage to look for it, she certainly could find her … But who?

May 6^th / 2018