Me
A blonde-ish version of me. Or better yet, a manifestation of my desire to look like Piuca.
13th Floor - My Favorite Spot in Downtown Baltimore
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Writing
Unresolved pain. Nostalgia. Fire. Vivid dreams at night. Immense love. I read the other day something an old friend once told me. Go back to what you were good at when you were a child. That's where your natural talent is. I go back, and so many things come up. So many interests. Infinite curiosity. I loved words when I was a child. But I also loved animals and nature. I also loved music and poetry. The beach made me go without sleep. I also loved to dance. I remember attracting people's comments while dancing at parties. Not because I was good but because I did my own thing. I also liked cooking and baking from an early age. Books were also my private world. But who am I now, forty years later? I listen to Riccardo Cocciante, and my heart fills with raw emotion. How can someone be so good and write the most beautiful songs? I need to understand Italian better, but what I know and feel with his songs is beyond anything material. The power of art has to move us. That streng
Lost Phone
I lost my fancy red phone. It's new and I don't have many contacts stored in it. Just the most important ones. I will pay ramson if found and returned. I suspect Dear R., that you know where my phone is. If that's the case, you only have to return it. No questions asked.
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