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41: Then I realized one thing: you're just a boy

If you ask me about art probably citeresti all art books ever written ... Michelangelo.

know many things about him: his work, political aspirations, he and the pope, sexual orientation, all of it true?

But I bet you can not tell me that smell is in the Sistine Chapel.

You've never been there with the head turned toward that beautiful ceiling ... ever seen.

If I asked you about women, I probably would a vision on your preferences, you can even have fucked a few times ... but can not tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel really happy.

you one soon.

And if I asked you about the war probably S hakespeare threw me in the face eh?

"Once more into the breach dear friends?" ...

But you've never touched one.

You've never held his head in the lap of your best friend saw him with his last breath while looking for help.

If I asked you about love I'd say probably a sonnet.

But looking at a woman you've never been totally vulnerable ... do not know one that you lifted his eyes, feeling that God sent an angel on earth just for you, to save you from the depths of hell.

do not know what it feels like to be her angel, to have so much love for her, beside her forever, in every circumstance, including cancer.

do not know how it feels to sleep on a chair in the hospital for two months holding her hand, because the doctors see in your eyes that the term "visiting hours" not apply to you.

do not know what the real loss, because this only occurs when you love something more than you love yourself, I doubt you have ever dared to love someone so much.

I look at you and I see an intelligent, confident, I see a bully that shit in fear.

But, you're a genius Will, who denies this.

Nobody can understand what you deeply.

But you claim to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine and you made my life pieces of shit?

're an orphan right?

Do you think that I can frame how difficult it was your life, how you feel, who you are, because I read Oliver Twist? This is enough to capturing them?

Personally, I strafrego of all this, because you know what, there's nothing I can learn from you not read in some fucking book.

Unless you do not want to talk to you.

who you are.

Then it fascinates me.

I'm .

But you do not want a true champion?

're terrified by what you say.

It's your move again.

ones I mentioned are exactly the words that Sean McGuire (Robin Williams) tells Will Hunting (Matt Damon) in what some may consider one of the scenes more crucial for the film Rebel Genius.

is the movie poster, which shows us just the psychologist and her patient hard side by side:

Actually Genius Rebel is a film that, like all great films should be seen (and appreciated) in full, to be understood seriously.

However, I wanted to, for once, give only a short dialogue (though I think this is something to be avoided, because only remember something through his hand, rather than the whole, is a bit 'kill what you want to talk) because this is the passage on which I focus my analysis today in this beautiful film.

A film that I have on video (that lovely, the old days, when it was still a DVD that you have to have to watch a movie!) At home for many years.

I had already seen years ago, but a few days ago, taken from the passenger wants (which could be followed over the next few days) to review at least the ones that impressed me most (what, then, in engineer that is made when you do not have the chance to rent a good movie different every night or so, and then, instead of into something never seen, even though they are old and familiar to everyone others, their neurons are wasted in the recovery of what is already known for some time).

Review Rebel Genius is useful because it allowed me to overcome the idea that I was partial and not complete in the memory of this film, based on my past view years ago.

I was convinced it was nothing but a movie about math, then belonging to that current scientific and technical (which I hate) that would stubbornly (and pretentiously) demonstrate that the only true knowledge is that which derives from mathematics and the fine and precise scope.

In fact, Rebel genius is much more.

It 's a movie that wants to embrace the culture at large.

And he wants us to reflect seriously on the need to live, in fact, life, to really understand it.

Why read about (and) life through a book is not enough.

offers just a bunch of information, certainly extraordinary, but designed to melt at the first contact with what's out there in the world.

is why it is so important to the piece, the psychologist-patient dialogue about which I quoted from the movie paro paro beginning (think I wrote all the jokes on paper stopped the VCR, to discover, after , who were present on the network, and that I would have been enough to show them a copy and paste, and in fact I used the latter option to bring them here, otherwise I would have to rewrite everything on the PC).

E 'important because it shows us exactly who are the parties involved.

A psychologist, who among other things is the first that is able to establish a fruitful dialogue with the difficult genius Will (previous colleagues had all been fooled by the patient brilliant, surrendering the idea of \u200b\u200bhaving more in do with him).

Professor Sean McGuire is actually the only one who attempts a direct contact with Will.

Trying to understand it.

Sure, the psychologist he had a troubled past (from the illness of his wife, then died), just as the genius of Will, who is an orphan, and passed through various families in foster care, being taken away from all the violence .

So there is this empathy, the psychologist and bonds well soon (not without some difficulties and frequent bickering) with his patient, because it captures the deeply troubled.

Will is a genius, but most importantly it is a genius that no one wants to understand.

fact is it was over to do the janitor in a university, but may, with his skills and knowledge, afford much more.

In fact, there is someone who will understand.

Professor Gerald Lambeau University of mathematics in which he works.

professor who will soon discover that Will is the only one in the right to know how to solve complicated mathematical problems that are impossible for all students, and even the professor.

But the genius Will not want to disclose what he does, it solves the problems of hidden, remain anonymous until it is caught writing on the blackboard by Professor Lambeau.

E 'comes from there that the whole story.

In this, if you will, there is also some optimism.

Why the genius Will it went well: he has found someone who has grasped the enormous talents, and wanted to do something for him, helping him to shed light on its problems, taking him into custody and saving it from a conviction that some genius would suffered yet another brawl in which he found himself involved.

But he could not go so well.

The film throws the hook, but then withdraws it, without waiting for us if we have the bait.

Like all best things.

So Genie Rebel the film winks at a problem that is primarily social.

Because if Will has been basically good, and has found someone who has taken care of him, trying to figure it out, so it is for many others like him missing genes, which most likely end up doing the janitors or construction workers (work respectable and utilities, with a their dignity, as is also explained in the film within a scene), but maybe you would like to say many more things in the world, face a different life, if only someone would allow him, and listen to them for that.

Instead remain abandoned to their humble (and honorable) destiny, without being able to take off.

I therefore believe that, ultimately, Rebel Genius is a film dedicated to all those people.

People with wings clipped by a company that does not want understand, which is an end in itself, and wishes to be, regardless of the rest.

Waiting for the first move of the other.

Expecting something in some form by those who would like to go further, but can not make it because he sees around him only indifference and careerism.

to people like these, one can not simply wish to have a good luck and happy as those that, in the end, while in the throes of the course, it's up to Will.

A life of love that we can fully grasp, away with not only a defense mechanism to prevent then to turn into love something worse, getting nothing but neglect.

But, above all, a life that, at some point, allowing the big jump.

Lets get away, far away from the world that does not understand, looking for better luck elsewhere.

It will be your best friend to look for your home to give you the usual step of every day.

Do not you find it.

And understand that you're finally gone, without even saying goodbye, but you did because it was the right thing for you.

And maybe you know it went well with a new car that your friends thugs, of which around you to give the illusion of a life of small things extraordinary and adventurous, you have got by putting the pieces together.

And, now, who knows where you are.

wonder if you read these lines without need them anymore.

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40: Space, power and human frailty ...

Not long ago, I was talking about on this blog, my intention to get me on superhero comics, because I wanted to rediscover this way of making comics, in many ways away from the characters, in large part human, made in Italy.

Well, I mentioned that I did indeed, and the comic book I chose was Captain America.

However, before you get to make that choice, I wanted to, like other times in the past, obtaining other comics of the same genus but belonging to the past.

One way, in short, to prepare the ground, to take over the latest issue of Captain America.

One thing, in fact, I had already done in the past, for example during my discovery of Brendon (character of Sergio Bonelli Editore): Before the last roll, then buy on sale, I took a collection containing two merged back issues together, and a volume of Panorama with cardboard cover dedicated to the Knight of Ventura (and containing a couple of stories about his beloved, Anja).

Now, the comic, in this case, was my return to the genre of American superheroes, was at least unusual.

unusual because, as I understand it, is not widely known.

that day, going on sale, I began to look at these American comics, when my eye was drawn to a small volume (thin publications are comics made in USA), cellophane, moreover, since there it was not even a register only, but as I quickly realized if you look carefully, together with up to 3 numbers.

Of the three numbers in question, however, viewed from outside, only 2 were clearly visible (I speak of the covers), it was enough for me to turn the volume on the other side to see the second cover, but the third, standing in the middle, was covered by the other two books, so do not viibile without opening the cellophane.

was obvious that it was comics some time ago, back together, as proved by the fact that the price was on offer.

So, I go to the cashier and pay the curious box, waiting to open it, leaving newsstand. Many of you may

shivered in my words: a real purchase almost sight unseen!

But it does not matter to me, I was willing to accept all, since, my purchase, nothing more than a preparatory move, which I would follow, on other occasions, the purchase of American comics (and superhero) more current, just as I did with Captain America.

The package I purchased contained the same series of books called January 13.

A series in which, as I understand it, the characters are victims of a laboratory experiment that has given them special powers.

The numbers in this series were just 2, but not consecutive: there was a register of detachment, not included in the package, between the two numbers of Gen 13.

I've read them anyway, although some things I have remained in abeyance, because there were many tales that would continue in subsequent issues, leaving who knows how long ago.

of this series I was struck by a scene in a particular way in which we see one of the heroines that are part of the group of Gen 13, which is dead, and appears in the comic as a ghost, and so he can spy on those who, in life, were his companions, and observing does the idea that none of his friends think more now that he's dead, but on the contrary, everyone seems to have quickly forgotten about her, taking care of their affairs.

It really is not so, his friends continue to think again, because they have not resigned his death, it's just that she, for a variety of circumstances, he stops to spy on them in those moments when they just do not seem to care about and for her.

But if there is one thing that she, though dead, and has now become ghost, can not do, is to read the thoughts of his friends who still think otherwise now understand so much to you, regretting his death.

But the book that caught my attention more, including three in the pack I bought was, curiously, the one that was in the midst of the other two, thus making it not visible when its cover the cellophane package was still on newsstands.

This is an album dedicated to Ultraverse , a series of superhero with special powers created in the '90s by the publisher Malibu Comics, which later went bankrupt and was absorbed by the much better known Marvel.

The cover of the register of which I speak is this:

My version is actually slightly different, because this is a reissue that collects together a short episode (episode) by Ben 3 different sets of Ultraverse: The Strangers (who are the types which is dedicated the cover that I posted), Prototype, and finally Hardcase.

I will not elaborate here at each of these three series, because now I must speak only the first that I have mentioned, exactly the Strangers, as cover.

The episode that I read in the collection is the second-reissue, which allowed me to understand quite well the origins of this group, thanks to an efficient summary of the previous episode (the first) to ' internal as well as references to the first episode traced the second reading.

The Strangers (it's right in the second episode I've read that in a very choral scene, communicating with each other to give yourself that name) are the guys that, every morning, they find themselves involved in the accident and road a streetcar down the street.

struck by a strange energy, the boys soon discover that they have acquired the special powers.

The second episode seems mostly dedicated to one of these guys (besides the few pages available, only 27, and the impression one gets, and that the authors have decided to take advantage of the later episodes also to deepen the powers of the other team).

In this second episode, then, we know better Dave Castiglione, an Italian-born baker who has the power to ignite the entire body with flames of different colors, and each flame is associated with a different skills (for example, flame Yellow gives you control the air).

team is also part of the student Hugh Fox, who has the power to blow up dangerous shrapnel from his body.

student as he is also Bob Hardin, whose power is to turn things (for example, can transform the incomprehensible language of a people held captive the whole team, making it clear to all the words of the enemy) .

The team also found the little black boy Balford Leon, who has the power to run fast, like a little Flash.

Another team member is Candy, who, although having the appearance a woman is not really human, but it is un'androide with the power to control electricity.

Completing the group are Helen, who, on the successful designer finds himself involved in a superhero adventure, also in the second episode I read, takes control of the team, but I do not know if it will do so again later.

I liked The Strangers.

now is a series of past, and I'm not going to get me other numbers (although the curiosity push), but I'm glad to have known it, would certainly be nice to follow it at the time of its release in the 90s in fact.

Indeed Talks are quick and direct, designed for a young player who wants, above all, distracted.

My next step was, as I said, Captain America.

I bought a roll of the saga Reborn, who sees action in as many as 3 Captain America, what was dead, and that it was discovered not at all, then what had been his pupil, and who had took place during his absence and, finally, third Captain America, however, is acting with evil purpose, the wrong way: in short, nothing but an impostor.

But I did not like Captain America.

I found it too politicized.

A blatant glorification of American liberalism, accompanied by a clear attack on communism.

not because I am a communist (not saying that I am, nor that they are not, this is not the topic at the time), but the point is that politics should be kept well away from the comics.

As I always keep far away from my blog.

For those who like, no time (nor desire) to talk about it.

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39: In memory of the tea bag

little lacking.

Soon everything will be dark.

Must take advantage now, find an idea. Understanding how

can have fun in the few moments of light that still has available, before the darkness fall, and in him also erase the memory.

The memory of all, everything he has done, even the most beautiful.

must live, at least try, because he knows that something will remain, what will you do now, on his next revival.

Even if he does not remember anything, what will you do now will inevitably affect what will be next, and can not remain indifferent to this.

Sure, you may not care.

After all, what is the need to prepare something, if you do not have any recollection of having made it, nor do they perceive the "after" as a continuation?

Would be transported to the last rays of light onto the courtyard, but something distracts him from his thoughts.

A nursery rhyme.

faint, far away.

is time to understand where it comes from.

And she sees it.

The dreamer.

The beautiful orange-haired woman who has dreamed many times in the past.

And he knows that you wanted to see him, because his dreams are even more profound and dramatic.

With a sense of indefinite, because dreams never end well, but are intended to continue in life.

Even if you do not remember any more we retain.

Just as in his life.

Destined to fade with the arrival of the first signs of the evening, as soon as the sun begins to gradually give way to darkness, to forget everything and, despite everything, still exist, in another life.

Yes, there is no doubt: he must be the prince of dreams.

And the woman who now looks at him, singing the nursery rhyme, is the Princess.

The nursery rhyme goes, it seems endless, as long as those words (which he never paid attention, simply felt that created a discourse in rhyme, just as with the rhymes, but was not able to distinguish anything specific) acquire a definite shape, unexpected.

and you find yourself in a garden surrounded by greenery, and a maze of roads and alternating colors, which penetrate each other, embracing each other, excited to be able to complete the touch.

The garden is large, but it is unclear how much, could even be on the roof of the world, might even be as big as the world, but no one, taken from the new view, you may notice. There is only

size, without any measures.

And there's him, and there is a woman, the dreamer, the one that he called Princess.

He continues to look at it, but it is not the same.

E 'hidden behind a hedge, in that huge garden.

And there are many children around him.

Children dressed as in eighteen hundred, it seems to have made a giant leap backward.

Children look at him, know he is there, and he sees the dreamer who moves uncertain between the lanes of the garden to find him.

now has understood: they are playing hide and seek.

Would you cry, shouting his name to the sky to reveal the exact location is at the dreamer who is looking for.

would like, but can not. More

try to say something, the more you feel defeated, trapped in a crazy and invisible force.

But soon becomes clear that this situation can not last long, because the dreamer sees move in an increasingly casual, and very slowly moves towards its own direction, it is going to find.

But he also understands that there is something wrong in that game.

Children.

Yes, they are the problem.

They all look at him, and many will laugh, loudly.

In this way, are revealing (and wondering if they do so consciously or not) its position in the dreamer.

What kind of joke?

Those children are perhaps allied to the woman, the Princess of your dreams?

few more steps, and you find it, and that game still change the shape and nature.

Now he is running, in despair, but also happy to not be running catch by the dreamer, he runs to go away, but runs less than what he sees around him, which moves in the garden seems to have no well-defined edges , everything is a mass of green material that accumulates, a piece of nature in more being added, which drawing will be following his path as he runs.

runs, but does not understand why it is also sad and scared.

Must you always have that fear that when you run away from someone.

Although it is a game, you always fear for themselves.

And for her life.

As in a return to origins.

Eventually, she reaches and grabs him.

grabs him with one of her delicate hands, using only two fingers.

Two fingers tight around his cloak.

a mantle.

He did not even have it made.

did not even know what the state was, in that huge garden.

could have done back in time hundreds of years, but none had the slightest consciousness.

Meanwhile, the game is over.

Gone are the children.

There is only a garden, narrow, still, between the meshes of a row of large trees squashed together as thrown in an old broom closet.

A garden flat in the middle of a city.

Destined to stifle their enthusiasm for life.

A garden that, with the emotional force of all its small, sensitive component would expand indefinitely along the sides of the earth. Instead it

just a place, put there on purpose, to write around a story.

Without, as always, men.

and their lives.

Wakes. Watch

beside him.

The orange-haired woman is there, beside him, sleeping peacefully.

would like to enter into his mind, take part in his dreams, while they are still in progress.

would like to give them a final track, save and record them in the film as a film.

But he has other things to do at the moment.

has a thousand and one dreams to be reviewed and corrected.

To give a touch of fantasy any more.

For the benefit of posterity.

And of all those who, before and after him, dreaming.

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38: The fireflies continue to shine

Yesterday, October 18, 2010, was a very important event.

My mother, in fact, has made the beauty of 50 years!

To mark the occasion, I wanted to give her a symbolic gift.

This is because I feel exactly the gift in question can not be regarded as nothing more than a symbol.

One way to give her confidence, to give the idea I was there, still alive and constant.

To give you the knowledge that I for her are still there, as she continues to be there for me.

To be honest, I would like for my mother so much more.

I wish such an important event (a goal I would say as few) as the age of 50, was accompanied in his life, even from a deep inner peace.

We would like to do more much more than what you do.

To begin, I want to publicly thank Forum Skill that I attend every day, for providing the information that helped me find the right idea for the gift to my mother.

In fact, I wanted to do much more if only we had thought before, my gift would have been even more elaborate, however, in the few days when I'm busy, I was forced to limit clear , focusing only on the essentials.

My real gift should be a very different thing, but sometimes I think it's something so great to be able to doubt it can actually achieve.

fact remains that I can one day find the right way for that too.

For now, I can only be very pleased that the gift I have for my mother, that gift material, and purely symbolic, about which I have spoken thus far, and the like.

I still very clear in mind (but, moreover, has spent only one day) his expression when, yesterday morning, I approached her, and I handed in my hands what I had prepared for her.

was moved, and I was moved too, to see her.

Today, I want to make a gift to you, showing you what I gave to my mother.

I mention this because I feel obliged by my writing this blog in a post dedicated to an important event in the life of my mother.

Notwithstanding that, for me, the greatest gift for her would be a very different thing than what I have done.

But this, here, I can not, and I will not, talk about it.

What was, in short, the present material, symbolic, for my mother?

Nothing but an album to open and browse, to see us inside the various phases of their lives.

Not being able to dwell on issues over time (but I would gladly), I had to just focus on the decades of the life of my mother.

I wanted to write and draw a longer history of his life. Instead, I've only spoken

several decades.

The first is 1960, year of birth of my mother.

Following this, the following decades, up to 2010 which is the current decade.

To complete each drawing, an image (created inspiration from family photos, or when you do not find any that I liked, with images from the Web) acconmpagnata by a brief caption.

The album in question (with a cover), I also associated with a greeting card, with a short maximum.

Below, I show you the complete picture of the gift, in its various components.

start with the greeting card, decorated with a flower that I made with the technique of quilling :

course, a greeting card is made to be opened.

Here's how you show the inside (you can also read a little rough, but I would say just a little thought):

It 's the turn of the album.

starts from the cover, which shows an image of a fairy-butterfly:

looks like the album once opened (note the papers related to Cover with a thin wire, so it is easier to browse):

Then there are the individual pages to browse.

The first four shows of the writing to read, here they are:

After the last written, start the parade of images.

Each is accompanied, as I said, with a caption below.

Above, instead, it reads the date of the decade referred to the image.

In this first image, we see my grandparents (Maternal, of course) posing during their marriage (it seemed the best choice to represent the idea behind the birth of my mother in 1960):

This is a child who I designed to represent the childhood of my mother, during the decade 1970:

In the 1980s, my mother is already a girl. This image shows the

in his condition at that time, wearing a strange uniform male:

The decade 1990 made me think of my mother's condition had recently become a mother for the first time.

I was born in 1988, so earlier this decade I was 2 years.

Here I am, in the arms of my mother

years pass, and we arrived in 2000.

Start a new millennium. This required an image

Explanatory

The last image is one that refers to the present.

We are in 2010, and we're celebrating an important birthday, with a careful eye to the future ...:

The first thing I thought of my mother reflecting sull'importantissimo milestone reached yesterday, was the fact that by making 50 years, she has achieved in its own right, the half a century.

However, as I have pointed out, this is not necessarily the best way, or at least not the only one to see things.

Also because, on reflection, maybe I should think of this great achievement as something whole, more than half the something.

And, finally, will remain only a picture, to grasp the whole.

An image of a moon that dips into the blue sky, looking timidly to be seen in the eyes of those who, far from her, on earth, with an eye carefree peers and admired.

A moon that would be even closer.

A few steps away, just like you see in the image with which I wanted to open this post.

A moon that knows how to show all its beauty and its profound love, if only we can discover all over herself.

And, even in the darkest of streets, she will, anyway, our guide.

Christmas, Mother .

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37: I can not tell me if one day I'll stop

A young.

who abandons his father, his family.

To undertake a path of knowledge.

In search of supreme knowledge.

Along with him, his dearest friend.

away together, and loads of enthusiasm for their adventure.

Soon, however, the two friends separate.

Why are very different.

One can, in short, to identify with a teacher, and stands by him, to follow the teaching.

The other, however, is never satisfied.

It's not enough that lil master can tell you, it may be.

He wants to go on, groped new ways, make new experiences. So

continues its path.

It's all going to happen.

The more will rise from the ground (in ideal conditions) to reach a whole contemplative knowledge, the more he will realize that he had strayed too far, Desiring, therefore, to be able to go back, to lower the common life, daily life and material, which he accused the first time, to regain control over things, to relive the pleasures of life.

So experience the beauty of love, desire (also flesh) to a woman.

but even this will be enough for him.

Speculative and attentive to the need to form a knowledge that goes beyond the shortcomings of life (often while still immersed, constantly alternating between real and ideal), our boy, now an adult, he realizes that he, in fact, has never loved anyone.

corn was not capable of love, because love can not learn to love another person who has raised the tone of the art.

Who did that love is an aesthetic law.

And his fate will be, therefore, to try and try, endlessly, for love made aesthetic is not a common thing, can not result in any embrace, in a temporary pleasure.

E 'something higher.

Here is the hero of our history also leaves his wife, to continue his journey of discovery.

But can not help but feel more and more one of many.

him, that he so wanted to rise above the world, is forced to descend, because that is what the life.

It will be a ferryman his friend, to make them understand this new way of looking at life.

A boatman who, for years and years, doing his job, he was always listening to the river, and noticed that the river was talking to him.

The river has taught him many things: as the ability of listening.

But a curious way of looking at the time. Why

what are the past and the future, before a huge river that everything he sees and touches everything, and, simultaneously, is in many locations, at the mouth, the cascade into the sea, etc. ...?

face of this magnitude, what are the past and the future, if not illusions?

are only shadows that give the appearance of something, making us believe that we were something in the past, and we might become something else in the future.

but it is just that, an illusion.

There is no path to reach. We are already

All.

Parts of a vast collection, we have in us, every part of something.

The wise fool is at the same time, and vice versa.

But why could become one day or another.

say this, would reaffirm that chronological time that you just eliminated, recognizing that it is only an illusion.

No, everybody and everything, whatever it is now immersed in an eternal present.

This is also a call right away, groped our way, to take the risk.

If time does not exist, as it is just an illusion, then there is one thing that I am now and that I can not be later, neither one thing I do to force in a given time in the future but not now.

Aware of this, the man who has reached this view of life must be able to do anything at any time, because he has it all, he is already now that if you look at the world in a superficial way, the idea of \u200b\u200bbeing a dupe of time, I have to do tomorrow, who knows when.

All these things will find our friend, by ferry.

Just when you learned to have a child, right from the woman who had once abandoned, to continue his research.

And now he has nothing left to try, simply because there is nothing to find.

He is already the Whole.

But his son is not like him.

It 's a spoiled child, accustomed to the comforts.

flee one day to go in search of a better world for him.

And our friend will understand soon that serves no purpose to go in search of her son escaped.

because his son has to live his life, and if he had held back too long, he would only have to do something he did not want to live a life not suitable to him.

Furthermore, our friend had left his father, the story begins.

So, after crossing the world immersed in it, our friend will return to rebound, and look at things from above, but with a new awareness that he had not before: that there is nothing really to look, he's already the All, and everything that surrounds it is the All, and he loves to everything that surrounds it, appreciate it, look with new eyes.

Old and met, our friend will die, after reviewing his friend with whom he began his research, and revealed him, in short, everything he has learned.

one I described (by looking to be brief) is, as you've no doubt already guessed, the story of Siddhartha , the famous novel by Hermann Hesse.

Siddhartha is really the protagonist of the work, always looking for something.

Govinda, his friend, with whom he will have an opportunity to speak one last time before he died.

Hermann Hesse had already read two works, but I had always heard good things about Siddhartha, so I wanted to try it.

And the result was magnificent.

It is a very good book, focused on the need (in which Hermann always believed) for man to deal with life by below, and then buy a perfect tone, and live in constant balance between these two extremes, that is human, everyday, normal, and what is for one who is dedicated to the contemplative life.

Reflecting this, which was led by Hermann the attitude of family: parents, very religious, had a love for art, but it was a love content.

a love destined to crash, once it was understood that art is nothing more than appearance, nothing more.

Unable, therefore, understand the elements that really matter in life, such as honor, morality, courage.

The attempt to

Hermann is therefore to save, through his work, what is still salvageable art, living it fully (because this is the aspiration of man), but then away from it now, because real life is elsewhere , only to return again in a continuous conflict, perhaps never really resolved.

But in the meantime, here's the cover of Siddhartha :

What you see is exactly the same cover of Siddhartha I've just finished read.

edition found in the library.

Driven by the enthusiasm to this author, I decided that in the coming days the other 2 reread Hesse's works in my home, because I read several years ago, so do not remember so well.

And who knows, maybe in future I will be able to read more and more of Hermann Hesse.

But this is not a problem.

Why we should not worry of the future, which is only an illusion.

I am already now, the All.

And, who knows? Maybe inside of me, surrounded by all this, there is already quite the complete works of Hermann Hesse.

you need to do to dig, to discover it.

Do you too.

Topless And Bottomless Party

Speaking of industrial heating ..

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