giovedì 12 dicembre 2013

Picking Flowers #1

When I was little I wanted to play guitar.

When I learned to play the guitar I wondered how was it possible to write a song .

So it happened that , having coffee at the bar, I met a person who, with his football bag on his shoulder, changed my life forever , giving me the input I needed to transform the shapeless mass of information contained in my mind in chords, words and melodies.

When I learned how to write a song , I wondered how it was possible to convey emotions . And the answer is : you have to live them , they must be strong, but more importantly, SINCERITY  .

Growing up with my dad always active in the kitchen of the house, despite the enormous amount of work hanging on his shoulders outside the home , I discovered that cooking  is first and foremost love, then sincerity , then sacrifice , sociability , and finally taste .

So I decided to become a chef . I wanted to do good to people, and I did , but the energy is not created , moved . And so , for good , I ended up hurting me . I’ll never be a chef, I’ll always be just a good cook.

Then one day  people began to ask me a question : "But you , why do you want to be a chef ? " . So they asked me in Trieste, in New Zealand , in Australia , in Parma , Barolo and, finally, in Trieste again . Whenever I had to answer this question, the answer was complicating and became more and more confusing and abstract. The last time a good friend asked me this question the answer was: " I ​​don’t have a clue! But meanwhile, pass me the fuckin’  sauce or else all hell’ll breaks loose and we’ll end up ruining the reputation of the restaurant , they’ll eat us alive ! " .

I Love talking to people . I Love to look people in the eyes. I Love to feel the energy that brings people together in a single core , made of pure emotions ( not necessarily happy and carefree ) , vibrations and sincerity. I Love to play guitar , sing, talk , transmit and receive.

So it was that one day, thanks to the sudden news about the availability of a room in Berlin for 2 months, me and my sister , aka Galeb and the Seagull , we started the conquest of the unknown, the streets of Berlin ,the Seagull with her magnetism that sets it apart , her sweet voice , and her elegant poise of course , me with my creations, my red small guitar and a small battery powered  amplifier. It’s been 6 months of strong emotions, great discoveries , great friendships , great failures and great successes , as indeed were the 27 previous years.

But this time it was louder, or maybe I just grew up , but keeping the dream of flying .

I've spent the last 4 years changing life , continent, friendsand habits  every 6 months.

You do the math .

Now I'm tired. I'm tired of change , I'm tired of farewells ( hugs you receive from friends when you leave , with tears hidden in pride, hurt as the close of a python , I guess .. ) , I'm tired of starting again, reinventing myself and being misunderstood .

I plowed the ground , I fertilized with what I had , I never kept anything for me , because I believe that generosity is the thing that distinguishes man from machine , good from evil .

I have sown , where the soil was fertile , and where it was not. Now I know it is too soon to reap the benefits of this work, because as  teaches me as an old song , "to get the fruit we need a flower." And the flowers are beautiful, they are colorful , fragrant , tasty !

So I decided to record " Picking Flowers " . I sat in front of the microphone , Deko pressed REC , it was my time to pull off in an afternoon , all I knew about flowers , friendship , imagination , disappointment , love , hope and nostalgy .

" Picking Flowers " sounds like the streets of Berlin , the bars of Trieste, the hills of Piemonte , the Po Valley , some kitchens across the world, the New Zealand countryside , the Croatian sea, the streets of Melbourne etc. .. etc. ...

At that point, for me it’s been the beginning a new life. And who knows, maybe not just  for me .

That day I started to pick up flowers and I decided not to stop until I see the fruits .

Maybe one day I'll have enough fruits to eat well and be able to gain weight a few pounds ... that would be good for me!  Maybe I'll find the fruit in music. Maybe somewhere else .

" Picking Flowers " is the result of the work of many people , I did the smallest part, I took the emotions and stories, I filtered them  through my fingers and my vocal cords , and that's it .

 I’ll write about all those who have given life to tell this little chore ,

with the necessary calm , in the future posts .



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