In casa, mi guardo attorno. La libreria, libri nuovi e vecchi, alcuni erano dei miei genitori, altri sposano le mie passioni, disegno, fotografia, musica. Sulla parete vicina tanti quadri, la maggior parte sono acquarelli di mio papà: è un modo per sentirlo vicino. Anche nel mio studio le mie passioni sono presenti. E le sorprese, luci, riflessi, ombre…casa è dove sta la nostra anima.
At home, I look around. The bookcase, new and old books, some were my parents’, others marry my passions, drawing, fotography, music. On the nearby wall many paintings, most of them are my father’s watercolors: it’s a way to feel him close. My passions are in my studio as well. And than surprises, lights, reflections, shadows…home is where our soul is.
E come mi sentirei se fossi costretto a mettere velocemente, forse in pochi minuti alcune cose necessarie, oppure le più care in una borsa e andare via, con il dubbio di non poter tornarci più?
And how would I feel if I were forced to quickly, perhaps in a few minutes put a few necessary things, or the most dear things in a bag and leave, with the doubt of never being able to return?
Ci penso, e penso anche a mio papà che giovane ragazzo ha dovuto lasciare la sua città. la sua scuola, i suoi amici, per sfuggire insieme alla sua famiglia ai tempi bui che sarebbero arrivati in Germania.
I think about it, and I also think about my dad who as a young boy had to leave his town. his school, his friends, to escape together with his family the dark times that would have arrived in Germany.
Come sempre suggerisco di cliccare sulle foto per una visione migliore e sempre come sempre i vostri commenti sono benvenuti. E intanto c’è Bruce con la sua chitarra…
I suggest as always to click the pictures for a better viewing experience and again as always your comments are welcome. And meantime there is Bruce with his guitar…
Ah, Bruce at his best.
Thanks for sharing the inside of your home/heart with us. Your photos focus on what is important to each of us, our families, our loved ones, our memories–memories that need need some tangible reminder to bring us closer.
I just read a fascinating book called Three Minutes in Poland. It is about a grandson’s discovery of his grandfather’s film footage of a vacation to his home country of Poland practically on the eve of Kristallnacht. The film had been forgotten and the people it captured, mostly dead within the next 3 years, forgotten. It was very moving. Not sure if this video will play for you, but I figured I’d try. http://glennkurtz.com/cgi-bin/iowa/three-minutes-in-poland/index.html?video=1
War is a cancer.
Sono rimasto affascinato dalle foto… incantato da tanti libri, potrei viverci dentro… ahah
Grazie! I libri sono un piacere ma anche una dipendenza. Però è una buona dipendenza…
I like these glimpses of your home. It’s like mine, in the sense that it’s filled with personal items: family history, souvenirs of travels, indications of my interests, and so on. No interior decorators for us, dictating that this season pink florals are “in.” That’s why the thought of leaving is so hard, I think. If a new home could be purchased at a store, it would be easier, but so many of our possessions are irreplaceable.
Ukraine tears at me every day. It doesn’t help that I am basically a news hound and feel obligated to keep up with the latest bad news atrocities. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to lose everything, including my country. When I try to think about it my brain shuts off and won’t let me 💔