I realized that I have more pictures. For too long, I stopped to photograph, and so I am not material to illustrate my thoughts. It 'a shame, I like to photograph, and then try to start over. And it's an excuse to go for a stroll, day or night, without a goal, following geometric patterns, lights, pictures, looking for the right perspective to represent a part of the city. Or life.
's post tonight I have grown. I found a number of ideas I've collected and kept by the children as they do with the colored pebbles in the sea, and I thought they were really good together, I could arrange for the readers (and me) a nice trip, almost dream. I would talk about spring, the desire to do and the desire to be idle. I would talk about rain and sun, cold, snow and sand. The mountains and the sea. Instead, today I got a surprise. Of the real ones. Of those stop you in your thoughts.
I'm full of happiness, feeling great and intimate. That's good. So it all makes sense. Our suffering, despair, the cold dark months and now they have a reason: the point of view goes away and all this becomes just a detail of a painting big and colorful. Of life going on, challenging and surprising.
I can not write more, I could not have the discretion and sensitivity to tell my feelings without making sense of what it is. And I'm crying.
I'll be there forever.
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