How Much Does It Cost To Laminate And Bind

Blessing Mexico.

"Anyone still awake at the end of a night of stories, certainly will become the wisest person in the world. So for us, "

Happy New Year.

Vandertramp Verbs Illustrations

You yourself a massage like that? Text

Cubefield2 Coffy Table

"Once upon a Santa Claus"

The post that follows is the revival, in part magazine, a note I wrote last year on Christmas day to remember my father for the first time I'm on earth, could not be with us for a mystery that concerns us all, but he has already experienced: The end of life. He always said that "since no one has ever come back, then you will be so bad." Without knowing Vasco Rossi "How many people believe there is afterlife, something, who knows how many people will still, be content that my father showed ....", with these words, his spirit Rock.

I was strange reading. It 'a kind of overexposure. Too personal, no doubt. So much so that if the theme was another, any more, I deleted the note, and certainly would not have posted here, but they are on my blog, within my "rooms", and we want to see my father too, because it is my belief that ' only life possible for those who died, resides in the memory of those who live, and he lives with me because I think about it every day, even alive, but I want around me, because my father, and do not need to say the least.

À chacun son père noël.

do not know why I say it in French. Indeed yes, but I will not explain it. This is my first Christmas without a "father" as they say in Senigallia. By me in Abruzzo is called "Daddy" and in any case there will be. His absence brings back old memories. One such example, when he returned from Germany at Christmas and brought me chocolate gift in the shape of a Christmas tree or a giant rabbit. It was like a ritual, and I was happy, not the chocolate itself, but for the idea that this gift had to do to get me this far. I always had the traveler syncope even when I did not. Today I know that this "disease" has sent me my father, in a kind of "all inclusive" genetic ... difficult character orsaggine-proof patent, ultra thin hair and liscissimi in spite of my last name (which to me seems a hoax), a sharp irony, sarcasm almost, and also the ability to laugh and entertain others. Finally, this thing, the syndrome of the wandering shepherd Asia, as the poetry of Leopardi (who literally saved me from impending rejection in high school). My father, my father's father, his three brothers and her only sister were all female travelers, emigrants, to be exact, of those who bring their homeland in the heart, but leave it for ever, without chance to come back. His brothers ended up in America (Central / Latin America) and there are dead. My father, after trying them as the streets of Colombo, has opted for Germany, but he eventually went back home and you are no longer moved in recent years, perhaps he could recover the long absence. His return has not been rosy. Too much alike to not clash. They started as large distances, the Cold War, open hostility.

The distances between us have always existed, but without the excuse that they were the miles between my house and Germany, I weighed a lot more. The chocolate is no longer arrived at Christmas, though he was there and perhaps the hope of remedy, sooner or later. Maybe, "then" to remedy really happened, but it was he who exceed certain limits and meet me. It was the time of my trip to London. Perhaps it is recognized that gesture, and appreciated that the ripercorressi its paths as geographically distant, and I believe him to be sorry to see me back so quickly. He knew better than I that make sense only if the trip will last a lifetime. I think more and more. My journey then gave me back a father who almost overnight became interested aloud to my life and my projects, a father "normal" that eventually helped me.

My Christmas this year will be sad, hard to bear, boring to celebrate. I would disappear from the world of good for as long binges and travel in space if only we could, because my dad this Christmas is not here. I wonder where all the time is over, if it really is everything finished. According to the laws of God at this time is in heaven and it's all a pleasure. According to the world of marketing, take a coffee with Bonolis and Clooney in a state of heavenly serenity. Then there would be "to me" that goes beyond any doctrinal teaching and business. My instinct, in addition to the data collected here and there all my life, I suggest another solution, much less attractive, more "natural" I'm afraid.

When I look up I see blue, gray or yellow, depending on the weather ... when I look at the ground I see green, gray or otherwise, depends on them ... in general I have left the earth as a concept difficult to manage. I prefer the sea or the sky, but it is I walk on earth, this is where I live, and as far as I know, this is where I die. My father then? My mind imagines kept in an airless space, in a game of Chinese boxes made of iron, wood, concrete, marble and flowers - in order of coercion - and above, that is where he can not access, there is sky, which I still have the privilege to see. Perhaps no coincidence that now more than ever, spend more time with his head in the air and on land, among my fellow men.

The fact that he will be there at Christmas, Easter or mid-August as then, is like one of those features drawn on maps, and a natural boundary between before and after. Before I was, and now I am. Nothing is changed, yet everything has changed. I think the things I've always thought, but with an 'honesty that first disguised, sometimes repressed not to feel too much weight on him. Wanting to find a logic at all costs, could mean that sooner or later, like it or not, I'll resume the journey, not only in spatial terms. Will I go back crashing down to people, I'll have to take dozens of dialogues buried or abandoned, I have to leave the nest of paper that I stitched on ...

My nature, if not impossible with busts had forced the Chinese was to a more concrete, I gladly craft dream: Crete, oils, chalks, pencils, paint thinner, impossible smells and matter, this was my natural inclination. A life of thought sometimes I just lifts off and takes me too far from what I can move the veins. These years of violent and altogether useless autocostrizione, I drew him a 'yet another geographic line, one of my limits. I am comforted to know that everyone, really everyone has one, it amuses me that some do not even suspect, and when I think I'm wrong every single important choice, then I realize that is not true, that all makes sense, if only because Makes no sense really, if the ultimate meaning is to finish as canned sardines.

attempted by speeches immense and immensely banal as "life" I conclude that I understood the essence (or rather, my essence) only when I saw the fading breath of those who started in with my world. My father without a soul on that bed was the heaviest and most serious minutes of my entire existence. I've fixed all the time, sometimes with a morbid curiosity and final. I thought for a moment in "21 Grams" in the film more topic I could think of and I found it amazing that I could think of a movie, things everyday. I touched his skin still warm, I shook his hand, perhaps for the first time in thirty years, and I kept close, very close to mine for more than an hour, almost atrophy, wondering fucking reason for that something so simple and obvious it had not ever happened, not once before this moment that is the equivalent of any "too late" because he's gone. It does not matter how hard I thought before, the theory is nothing compared to that second that alone is enough to light in all its banal things that seemed to show up who knows how complex. You live and you die, you can breathe and then you stop breathing, you see and then you stop to see. In light of this obvious fact, many social myths / trade I have even more unbearable, especially when you've got to understand him a bit 'like everyone else.

At each of the What have I ever, but I lost the 'absolute, that was my biggest temptation. Today they are on and maybe, "relatively" better, with less than playacting in the head, and a principle of disenchantment that turns a little 'time my high expectations after years of "vain beating" and "vain hopes" as the poet who wrote I read up to ride the lines.

The mind thinks things never thought of before, and has the courage, perhaps a bit 'naive to tell someone to go and sometimes to other illusion that it is clear that new path that separates me head in two, and that but my thing is, nothing but my own. Back on the no man's land. It's always me, and I'll never be me. Now I know I am mortal.

All I knew at the first rationale, now runs through my veins and I runs through the body from head to foot all day, without rest. If there is a side effect is that my life is now filled with urgency. All that could wait until yesterday hours pulling my hair, tormenting me as an obsession, so I am surprised it had not yet exploded, Hiroshima style. I do not think about the future. It stopped being a priority several years ago, and now even less, now I have this, and hence the perception of everything changes so immense. I reacted in an atypical final journey of my father.

Di I left too soon, but I did as he liked, with a suitcase in his hand. I went to Paris because I would have only been able to go, and if ever a decision was the right one, this was it, not once but twice, always a choice between more just for me. I love this city where every corner has been crossed this opportunity to give their life to years of study at times Atrophy, returning to lives lived out of nowhere and kept me company. I said goodbye to friends in the most unexpected places (cemeteries, for example) between Truffaut, Baudelaire and many others in search of a thought where rests the body of those with the word or the image has been able to talk about things that many feel even as their own, but few would know to express in those terms. I am a bit ashamed 'for this, but Paris has served me to return to earth, to find any trace of bonheur which is the essence of the grand villas . I was almost correct. I had the terrible indelicacy of being selfish. Maybe that's why I'm a little 'sick to balance everything. Then once he returned to the usual purgatory (Ligabue says well, that's a place which one you choose) I had a naive extravagance and like every person I like to think that my father has sent me not to drown me. Some kind of angel, without a real body, not a life of its own. I can summarize in like a wonderful idea, to save me from the precipice at least once a day without having a clue as appropriate, are good at acting. As I said, I think things have to kill in the bud and do not know where all this will take me. Will surely be a different wander.

After much talk freely, I do not have much to add. There is no morality, there is no message, just floating along in distant places, may be inappropriate, too personal. But I've always been so. I can not be jealous of my thoughts, but only because I do not think that share will diminish.

The image above is of Talani. It is bad law, so rewrite the contents:

"Travelling at night is always better, especially if it's a night you are wearing a blue coat and blue, but of those hot and heavy, good ones. If even then your eyes shine you can be confused with the sky and the stars. "

The right song for the occasion, "Send us a postcard" by Carmen Consoli, for the many similarities of the case. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nt6Q066C-Qc

Mount Blade Wedding Dance First Version

"The rich" Mona Achache. It has

"the Hérisson" (The Hedgehog in Italian) [2009] is the title of the first film Mona Achache. This is an adaptation of the novel by Muriel Barbery "the elegance of the hedgehog," a true literary event, not just French. The writer, however, has distanced himself from the film, which in its opinion, is too far removed from the book.

I liked the film immensely. Sober, "elegant", just like the word deducted from the title ("Why is it so that its practitioners call it," says the director). Elegant and beautiful is the soundtrack. The environment is Paris it almost always is in movies French, but do not see it hardly ever, or at least, there are no places or symbols which leads through the capital would be recognizable. Much of the movie in fact, takes place indoors, which help tell the interiority of the characters. A film full of rooms, like my blog. Middle-class rooms (the house of Paloma) "East" (the home of Kakuro), proletarian (the reception) and rooms "Literature" (from which my particular affinity with Renee).

Paloma is the pivot around which the story. Renée is for her an important point of reference, a true beacon. I find the description of these two beautiful women, one young, the other couple, and disillusioned. Both fragile, but for different reasons. Their union, which is that of friendship, a sense to both.

I also think that the French have a way around them to tell the relationship between children and adults. (Vigo, Truffaut and many others ...)

But back to the "hedgehog" There are three key characters in the film:

Renee (played by Josiane Balasko wonderful ) is an "old" concierge: surly, scruffy, the opposite of the canonical "Beautiful". Lout pretends to avoid relationships with the world that she sees only a humble craft and related clichés [" do not leave your cat, do not let the door " Paloma says when her mother closes the door behind him, pushing out with Renée].

René has a secret room full of books, a "cache." Reads a lot, and in those moments he loves munching dark chocolate. In the book we are told that the woman is self-taught and like all self-taught (I think more in Truffaut) passes from delusion to the sense of impotence [I added the quotation of the passage in the bottom of this note]

[ in this scene: Renee has just turned down an invitation to dinner Kakuro, but then confused cries and embraces the Paloma, a the most tender scenes of the film because his tears seem to melt the wall that for years has kept out of life. ]

Paloma, ( de Garance Guillermic ) that is read with the accent on the "A" because it is French and teenager wake up, well above the average inteligente, who lives in a high-bourgeois family. His fate is wealth, but she sees in adults projection of what will become of his life, he sees them like fish in a bowl, and as such they will not fall, decides that completed the twelfth year of age commit suicide. Girl over the top, love the Japanese culture and language. And 'skilful in design and thought, and delights in the direction of the last month of his life in a film that wants to show that life is absurd . We see it often, especially at the beginning, while he adjusts his glasses, which continuous between the tangle of curly hair. (I ricordaTruffaut and constant with which the women in his films are arranged glasses, as the symbol of the difficulty of seeing things as they really are. Kate, the scene of the chalet for example, but the trick appears in many films)

[The wall is broken. René ride as it had never happened during the movie. And 'live for the first time in years. But are his last hours, and she can not know]

Kakuro Ozu (Togo Igawa) is to me a figure of irresistible charm. Embodies a far east and culturally intriguing. A type of humanity which today seems to have vanished. He is a gentle man, educated, friendly but not flashy. Its sweet and singularly expressive eyes ever see people hiding behind all the rest. E 'only, with Paloma to understand that behind the hedgehog (Renée) hides an elegant figure and fine. E 'to him and his little friend, Renee owes its revival after years of significant apathy, hidden past to live without ever exposing himself and trying emotions were not those of the books, then someone else. Renée, again before the mirror, once again ready to get involved, but at this point the game ends. And his date of death matches with the happiest of days, when, as he says Paloma "was ready to love ".

For a finale the spectator is unbearable. We are used to hundreds of happy ending in every shape and sauce that scene and so real, plausible, it is almost unacceptable. The world is how it goes , and "insecure" is the adjective that will remind us in the history books one day. We therefore need at least at the cinema, a final positive, otherwise the banality. Renée dies hit by half. He still has the dress that gave her Kakuro, still has the flavor of that phrase in the mouth of Anna Karenina: "All happy families are alike, but unhappy ones are each in its own way"
These were the last Renee's words: "How do you decide the value of a life? Paloma that your live up to what you promise"
Paloma These last words: "So is this? suddenly everything stops? is this die? never again see those you love, never again see those who love you? If you die this is precisely the tragedy they say .... What matters is not to die, but what you do when you die. René, what she did at the time of death? She was ready to love "

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EPFwZ5468rg [Movie Trailer]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=edYkWx5QDsM ; [Trailer of the film in French. Much better in the original language]



Two excerpts from the book:
(Paloma)
Deep Thought # 1

Dreams

the stars in the mouths of fish

Red finish.

Apparently, every now and then adults take time to sit and contemplate the disaster of their lives. Then they complain without understanding and, as always flies banging against the same glass, stir, suffer, deteriorate, get depressed and wonder what mechanism brought them where they did not want to go. For the more intelligent it becomes even a religion: Ah! Abject vacuity of the 'bourgeois existence! Some cynics of this type, dine at the table of my father: "What has happened to our dreams of youth?" Wonder disenchanted with air and satisfied. "Flew away, and life is their bastard" I hate this false clarity of maturity. The truth is that they are like everyone else, kids who do not understand what happened and who play at being tough and they want to cry. Yet it is not so difficult to understand. The problem is that children believe in the great speeches, and a great time, she takes it in turn deceiving children. "Life has a meaning and adults to keep it" is the universal lie that everyone is forced to believe . As adults, when we realize that is not true, it is too late. The mystery remains, but all energy is gone by time wasted in stupid activities. You just have to try to anesthetize, hiding the fact that we can not give meaning to our lives and deceiving our children to try to convince ourselves better. My family attends all of whom have followed the same pattern: a youth spent trying to capitalize on their intelligence, like a lemon and squeeze their studies and to secure a position at the top, and then an entire life asking stunned because these hopes have resulted in a life so useless. People think of chasing the stars and ends as a goldfish in a bowl. I wonder if it would be easier to teach children right from the start that life is absurd . This would take away some happy moments to childhood, but would gain a lot 'of time without adult- count that would prevent at least one trauma, one of the ball.

(René)
Rejecting the clash.

I have read many books ...

Yet, like all self-taught, never sure of what I understand. One day I seem to embrace at one glance all knowledge, as if suddenly invisible branches were born, and weave together all my scattered readings - then immediately the meaning slips away, the essential thing escapes me, and as re-read the same rows each time I appear to be more elusive, and I see myself as an old fool who thinks he has a full belly just because he read the menu. It seems that the presence of talent and blindness is the hallmark dell'autodidatta. While depriving the subject of safe driving every providing good training, however, gives him freedom and capacity for synthesis of thought, where the official speeches and prohibit the barriers hindering adventure.

Paloma

Last profound thought

But what to do before a

never

if not continuously seek

in furtive notes?

Madame Michelle died this morning. E 'pickup truck was hit by a dry cleaner ... I can not believe I'm writing these words. ...

Kakuro has played with us about eleven o'clock. He asked me, then took my hand and said: "There is no way to avoid this pain, Paloma, then I'll tell you as it happened: just now about nine Renée had an accident . A very serious accident. E 'dead. ...

For the first time in my life have I experienced the meaning of the words never . Well is a terrible thing. ...

not worry Renee I do not commit suicide and I will not focus precisely nothing. Because from now on, for you, always go in search of ever. The beauty here in this world.

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Pillars of Hercules thought. Maria Luisa of street sweepers.

HAS NOT THOUGHT Pillars of Hercules. (2004)

Your soul baby,
devilish laziness if it creates. Neither Columbus nor suspected
Ulysses
the thousands and thousands of islands on hold. You expect
entire continents.
sleep inside your brain: Osa!
The world is being created.



Maria Luisa street sweepers.

Easton Vs. Bauer Equipment

"November 1963" by Angela Caponigro.

It happens to everyone at least once in their life, to be born. Everyone knows it, just think about it, and very few remember it. Angelo instead went further, he remembers also the source of origin. I enjoyed reading his thoughts, and since has given me permission to share it, the public rooms on my page and thank him.

Yesterday was the day of my 46th birthday. Strange that almost makes me feel to write that number, but I do not make any say or think sopra.Vuol say that more than 16,000 days of that moment in November of '63, when a blinding light of the delivery room 'forced me to the hospital in Varese first curse of my life as if it had not been enough effort that I had done up to that momento.Ho very beautiful memories of my life pre-birth: I was a sperm a bit' atypical spent his days wandering through those two quiet stations that were suspended at the very base from which to launch the huge barrel on alternate days, but more rarely, were shot out all the sperm that can be booked for great race, so they called it. I, however, I was sitting in the lounge area, leaving me dangling from the movement of the station, peering into the tail of some spermatozoina X, chatting with new arrivals in the waiting room. There were those who had tired of waiting and could not wait to throw themselves, who was fearful of what he would find out who asked me what should be done once launched. Not having any desire to launch and therefore having spent time at the station, I knew exactly what there was to know. I knew that when they began to swing dramatically and the walls above us began to turn red meant that the great gun was arming and there was little the speaker warned who was booked to travel to current positions, where it is increasing pressure would break the gate and they would be thrown up in a violent and flow disordinato.Sapevo duvuto what you would do once outside, I had said the bartender of the restaurant area with whom I spent the whole day, she was too frail to launch and then had accepted that employment that also lets you listen from time to time voices from outside noise. He had heard the cries of those who had been catapulted into the void, who lay dying on the ground or somewhere, told me that you had to have luck and a lot of strength to run and get the first "big egg". I was chatting with her boredom of those days (perhaps that is why as adults then uses the expression "that sucks", is an unconscious legacy of waiting at the station told me about the world outside of ...), and as it should be according to the information captured. And it was her with his stories to convince me that it was time to gradually groped for the great race. He said that outside there was a great excitement, they began to feel really good, came from the years when they duvuto get up a war and that he did not know what this war, but it must be something terrible. There was a person that everyone loved and who called Pope John, it seems she cared for children, and another in which the world had high expectations that living in a very away, spoke of a new frontier and rights for all, the Kennedy name. Then I finally had to be told how beautiful to be young, until then the young people dressed like their fathers and fathers were thinking like, but now they were a separate category, they had their own way of thinking, dress, communicate, and it was All joyful and full of good intentions. I was beginning to excite the idea, but it was the music that I listened to the case, which blew the cap. I asked the bartender where it comes from the wonder and she said that it was songs, coming from outside and were sung and played by four guys from England with the fringe on the forehead, all dressed the same way and did all the crazy girls: screaming and did not speak on the other, and that's how she knew all those things. I decided: I would have booked for the next race! I wanted to be there at the time, live the excitement, hear those guys play. I prepared myself for well: instead of hanging out, gym and running, until the time of the call. Came the big day, the speaker crackled the usual formuletta, position us and I immediately tried to gain the center seats in the front row, someone complained, but there I noticed, I could see the parade along the inside of the cannon to upright in front of me. Everything shuddered, up to an incredible force that pushed us from behind and began to ascend at a supersonic speed, everything was uncontrollable and suddenly we came out jumping into the void. The bartender warned me: "if you will not see the light when you jump, you lucky! From then on everything depends on you." I was lucky, no light, but still dark and twisted tunnels where elbowing and I clung to all the tails of sperm in front of me, shock and even banned some impropriety in the way, but I had to go. I realized to be in good position, I tried to keep the path clear for not slow down, I began to see me before the end of the tunnel that had to be "the big egg," inarcai shoulders and lowered his head to prepare for all ' impact, I look fierce and violent gave a knob. Poi persi i sensi e non ricordo nulla di quello che accadde dopo, mi risvegliai diversi mesi dopo mentre sotto altre sembianze ripercorrevo a senso inverso il tunnel da cui ero arrivato, era strettissimo, sentivo urla e frasi concitate, le orecchie mi si erano appiccicate e stortate tutte, avevo il naso pressato alla parete ed un espressione sofferente e stordita. Poi due mani mi presero e vidi quella luce della sala parto, mi tornarono in mente le parole della barista e pensai che ero stato sfigato così mi usci quell'imprecazione che invece fu accolta con gioia e sorrisi da tutti lì dentro, era evidente che non parlavamo la stessa lingua.E così fu per i giorni seguenti: chiedevo dei Beatles e mi cacciavano una tetta in bocca da ciucciare, domandavo della Swinging London and no one in my arm for me to sleep. So I gave up and left her clinging to some rocking shoulder looking out the window. There was the world, Kennedy had been assassinated by 5 days, John XXIII had been dead for a few months and the Beatles had just started a relentless climb. Across the sill instead of dead leaves covered the streets while the trees tinged with poetry that as each fall, cold as hell not worried about the persimmons were alone on the bare branches and even the few passers-by rushed to that in November of '63.