Desperate Homehunter

She turned her head back, from the inside of museum where she was working and she saw him crossing the winter garden. Since that day she started to look back everyday towards the winter garden to see him passing by again, exactly at the same time. Indeed, he did pass by everyday at the same time, waiting to be seen by her eyes inside the museum. 

Once she decided to talk to him:  “Don’t use words without knowing their meaning. Don’t, if you mispronounce them. It could hurt someone, and communication could break down. Please, never cross this border.”

But not a single sign of attention came from him. That border was the big window she was looking through, from the inside of the museum. Her breath only drew a foggy circle on the glass that disappeared within 5 seconds. He could have never heard her speaking. 

The Shouting Matches - I had a real good lover

About that day

We looked at that sun, that day. Exactly at that water, that day. It was exactly that point of view from that specific position on this planet.

After silence and snow, finally the sun and the ocean. Sitting there, that day, one next to each other, we were facing the water instead, moving and shining, like five months before.

That place, which didn’t belong to us in any of its part, tells now about us. Those waves had the pleasure to watch our two hands holding and our eyes crying in front of its horizon.

That day we locked the door of our home, I didn’t mean to give all our furniture away, I didn’t mean to paint its walls in white, I didn’t mean to overwrite our pictures of our holidays, I didn’t mean to throw away our boxes full with old shoes, I didn’t mean to forget you. 

But it happened, and those kilometers we walked are now gone together with those old shoes. 

I forgot the smell of your hair, and the sound of your steps coming closer, the color of your coffee in the morning and the sound of us laughing.

I remember our voices saying goodbye for ever, the color of two glasses of wine and my trip back home without you.

Home started to be something else, after that day. That day changed our perception of home, home now it’s without that sun and that ocean. I can’t really watch it from my window, I simply swim in it.

Somebody special once said: “You are gonna think about it one day, and it’s gonna sound like an old song. You are just gonna feel a bit melancholic but you are not gonna have clear and sharp memories about it.”

It’s true, memories are gone with you.

Dotan - Home 

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What if home is not a place?

What if home is not there to be found? 

I’d rather go blind - Etta James (Beyonce Version from Cadillac records)

Lego bricks

Ta-ku

I felt like I’ve lost my memories for years and I am now walking back, blind and barefoot, begging for answers and tales. Begging for smiles and sparkling green eyes. 

And then an old friend appeared who gave me a small piece of his life. At the point, I had unexpected feelings of home in looking through that friend’s eyes while they put back those missing bricks in the right sequence. 

I found part of my foundations again in those memories, and slowly built up again that corner full of colored bricks. 

He told me about a cake, about a strong friendship, about a secret love, while me, on the other side, me, I could only remember a date. 

I felt home when he told me I’ve never left their lives, but me, on the other side, I’ve been running farther and farther holding a bunch of numbers. 

That process of refurbishment has started and I want to keep on being part of those people’s lives, those people I left back on my way but never let them go.

I thought home could also be a friend fulfilling that gap in that story you made up in your head to make yourself feeling everything is in the right place, brick by brick. 

I'm a mess, I'm a mess, so let me confess

Italian Version

Every time somebody new crosses our paths, he leaves something on the way, or it’s maybe us stealing that “something” from their lives. What I try to steal most of the times, is their idea of home, their concept of belonging. And it happened again in a club in Munich, when a complete stranger surprised me with a very brief answer.

He was American, from Ohio. He moved to Munich to work on a research project about Neuroscience and some other complicated subject connected to Biology. The very first questions that come up in a conversation between expats in Munich are always : “How do you like Munich so far?” - and - “Why did you move here?” - usually using a bit of sarcasm. And every time it sounds like people just slowly fall in love with this city, silently; they know why but they don’t want to describe it in detail because they want to keep this personal relationship with the city, only for themselves, as a little sweet secret. People use every sort of superficial answer in order to keep it hidden, like - “There’s more money and a lot of nature here“ - when comparing with Berlin for example.

It was the first time I had a chat with David, so he didn’t know about Desperate Homehunter, but whenever I mentioned Berlin, he defended Munich saying exactly these words: - “Berlin is a very cool city, but it doesn’t feel like Home”.

When I heard that, during a party, I felt he was affected by the same “issue of belonging”. So I explained my constant research of “home-feelings”, and he got astonished and interested at the same time. His parents were “probably” still somewhere in Middle East, where he is originally coming from, and where they are supposed to be working. This is the way he talked about them, he was not sure about what they were actually doing and that sounded for me like the origin of his astonishment: the topic touched him deeply.

When I asked him where does it feel home for him, he couldn’t answer straight away, but he lifted his eyes up and took a pause, then talked again. I red on that pause a long way till this answer, a journey that he already took time ago getting to a clear point of view. What he answered left me completely speechless.

He took his index finger to his temple and pointing it, he said :- “Home is in here, home is inside your head, it’s inside you, you take it with you wherever you go. Your friends, your family, your food, your passions, your songs”.  Is he right? 

Many many feelings and memories started to bounce into my head. Perfumes, tastes, melodies, voices, noises of crowded cities, touches of beloved hands, recipes of local food, and memories of past habits, people, hidden corners of cities full of love. Suddenly I thought about an article i recently red on lagalassiadigutenberg, where Petra Fantozzi described her idea of Home, giving me the same inspiring words. The Italian photographer moved to Berlin years ago where she started a long process of research on herself and her relationship with this complex city producing works of art talk about it. She said: “I always thought that the concept of Home was unrelated to its location; home for me is an intimate interaction with myself and with my surrounding. (...) This is the direction of my work, researching on a place/non-place that becomes strictly essential whenever a material house doesn’t exist. This topic is nowadays very up-to-date, when multimedia realities, globalization and big migrations risk to ruin “strongly” our contact with our self-identity, that it’s instead fundamental for a good quality common-living.” -

Waiting around to die

You said you would have been always here for me. You promised that, without even talking...oh maybe you didn’t mean it when you looked at me that way at the airport.

Maybe you didn’t mean it when you asked me for some help and waited for me to be always ready to fight for you. 

I probably misunderstood and I stayed here, waiting for you to be back to me, whenever you would have finally found your way. 

I thought was our deal. 

In the meanwhile I also got married. 

Sitting on a wide green meadow at sunset,

 in Berlin,

with a stranger,

a promise made out of a blade of grass.

I said - I love you - to him and many more after him.

 In viaggio - Fiorella Mannoia 

 Adviceses to your doughter 

Tomorrow you will leave, I can't accompany you. You'll be alone in your journey, I can not come. Time will be long and your path will be uncertain, the warmth of my love will be your blanket.

 I feard this day, it came so fast and now you need to go, life doesn't wait. I look at my heands now, that it's just me and you, I have nothing else to offer, only my words. 

 Claim your right to be happy. Don't heed to people, they don't know what they say. And don't be scared but don't trust them, if the game is too easy you will have something to pay.

 And I will think about you in silence, in the summer nights, at the sunset time, when the world gets dark, during the fairy's mute hour.

 This is our deal, before you leave...before you leave, tomorrow, don't look back. 

 Love your land, don't betray it. Don't mind any offenses, let them talk. Remember that umility open every door and that knowledge will make you stronger. You know that honesty is not an old idea. Don't ever be ashamed when looking at yourself in the mirror.

 Don't cry for help during a thunderstorm night and don't be submissive, keep your head up. Don't restrain your glee, don't keep it through your fingers. Remember that irony will save your life. But in a summer night, 

Frazey Ford - September Fields 

Fink - Yesterday was hard on all of us

Reaching happiness in the sweet water is unexpected. My brain got finally the information that water is not always salty...sweet...

Salty water belongs to me, like sun and wind. And you as well. 

I didn’t expected to swim at night in a lake with a big warm red moon watching us, and feeling my self happy. 

...Happiness is then only a moment, a frame in your life, that you have to experience in its total weight and than let it go. Taking the memory of it with you store it, for the bad times to come...

 It’s just I couldn’t find you.