mercoledì, settembre 20, 2006

There are other worlds than this

There is an push inside me towards fantastic, hidden worlds, those who are told and those who have never been explored. I feel absolutely enthralled, entranced by reading, or living, in alternative, fantastic worlds.

Jake Chambers, a boy living in one of these worlds, a world created by the writer Stephen King, a literary creation, a little more than scraps of ink on paper, once told to his friend Roland Deschain, the gunslinger the words in the title.

The quality of the writing of Stephen King has its ups and downs, and except for the first book, the prose is often poor. It took little, though, to capture me into this world, whom i explored for 6 of the 7 books it's made of.

I found myself often imprisoned in the amazing worlds movies offer, thousands of scenarios, characters, situations. Some of them so real I wouldn't disbelieve them. I just saw one called Serenity. Apart from missing some dialogue because of the bad audio track it totally had me for 2 hours.

As well, other worlds capture(d) me.
Years ago were called in turn PCCalcio, Warcraft or Starcraft, Medieval, Ogame, Hattrick,
and others, many of which lost in the mists of times where computers ran magnetic tapes where they stored incredibly little quantities of data (for today's standards).
The latest craze is called ryl2 ... a world in 3D, with characters defined by their strenght, agility, magic power. A common MMORPG (Massively Multiplayer Online Role PLaying Game), not the most brilliant, not the most original.
Still it has me for some time.

Some people would argue i am running from something, but I know it's not like that, i am running INTO something.

Maybe it is the wish to belong to something in a complete way, in a way I can't pull back from, and still be safe.
Maybe it's a
way to FALL IN, to be released from one's fears, to leave all behind to start over in a place where rules are set and can't be broken.
It's not running AWAY.
Most definitely not.
It's like closing the eyes and opening the mouth.

But safe.

I shouldn't want to be safe, though.

I should want to risk. But that's maybe what i was not taught to.

domenica, settembre 10, 2006

Flowers and massages

It has been a few days since I started thinking about writing this.
I thought about it through the wintery flowering of plums and freezing air.
I thought about it when the twiggy trees in front of the science towers bloomed suddenly, in that one day of the year, altogether with the conspiratory attitude that makes them do it at once and with no notice.
This morning, while i drove thru the Victoria esplanade, watching the plum flowers giving wa
y to larger, more aggressively coloured ones.
Crocus of white and red. Others (oh i wish i could name plants) with pinkish and orange splendor. Spring breaks out and smells invade the place, and colours too.
I found myself humming Charles Mingus in the car (Mingus Moves, Polygram) and changing a few moments later, as someone found guilty and pretending to be doing else, to Take Five, which was supposedly happier and more suitable.

It wasn't. Mingus was perfect. Was a chant subdued to the beauty of spring. Not a loud voice, but a hum underneath the colour. A rythm to the flowering speed. Invisible and powerful.

Friday I had a massage to celebrate spring. Mhhh it feels good. I am waiting for my baby, to celebrate her. I have been longing for this. Spring is breaking into me too, reminding how meiosis has a purpose... :-)

lunedì, settembre 04, 2006

Lost in translation

It's sad, but inevitable at the same time, when something is written in a language and translate in another one, something is always missing.
I think is a really sophisticate process I'll not talk in detail about, specially because I don't have the proper knowledge.
I was looking on Wikipedia the name of my home town, Catania, and in the Italian version I found lots of intersting details about the history, the real life, music, artists...I mean of course not everything, but a nice big piece of what it is.
In the English version there is a missing part of information about the city. Actually an "American version" of it.
I'm bit upset about it, because in the Italian pages you can find a real description of what mafia is and means here.
Who were and who are the main characters.
Is good because tells you something people most of the times ignore.
Mafia is not what you see on tv. It can possibly be a little part of what mafia is now (or was in the '50) in the US, but is not what we have here.
Here Mafia is something that moves the economy. Most of the times on a level you can't immagine.
Is not only "bang bang" in the streets. Is much more than that.
Is politicians, is having the power to undertake the job for a public building, is having the power of giving jobs to people who desperatly need it, is having control of the ignorant mass.
Is what everywhere else is just called politics and corruption.
I am sick and tired of people asking me where I am from and as soon as they hear Sicily they say: "oh oh mamma mia...mafioso".
Is one of the things I hate most.
Is not funny.
Specially when they have no idea what they're talking about. They have no idea how the life is here, no idea of how great is this country (of course with all the good and bad things).
Is a big big place with lots of people and lots of history. And yes lots of contradictions.....but not lot of places in the world can have the fortune to be perfect (and boring my opinion).
They have no idea about my family, about my mum and/or my dad. No idea about what my grandparents were doing here. We live in Catania since generations. Most of them travel a lot around the world, when travelling around the world was really something special and use to take months!
Maybe today I'm just too angry. But was something I kept inside for so long...

sabato, settembre 02, 2006

Oh Island in the Sun

There is a world whose beauty reached for me in the past years of my life, through the cathodic brilliance of television shows and coumentaries. The pacific Island have been a name whithout much meaning for a long time.

Until not more than two weeks ago I left the wintery land of the Kiwis for a leap into the largest of the Fijian islands. I stayed in Viti Levu in a coastal zone known as the Coral Coast. looking at the map just east of Sigatoka.
The place was a resort on the beach with nice
palms hanging tilted towards the waterfront, which in turn withdrew and rose a lot with the tide, leaving an uncovered multitude of shells and "thingies" on the bared sand.
Unfortunately having a coral barrier means that You can't really swim, as the highest depth of the water is about 1 meter, and the only chance to get deeper water is to walk a couple of hundred meters knee-deep in water and getting the feel slashed by the corals. Which I don't recommend.

On the other side if You like snorkeling there are beautiful places and plenty of "fishies". the place is so naturally beautiful that You really don't need much else. I wouldn't have minded going around a bit or hiring a car for a tour of the island, but I couldn't find company and put up with staying idle (I actually managed to find someone willing to come with me in Singatoka once, so i could escape from the resort).

I stayed a lot on the side of the small pool (which I used as a shower to remove salt after snorkeling) and drank quite a lot of "slushies" (cocktails were pretty expensive) and local beer (Fiji Bitter - the cheap one!). I probably understood what I already knew about holidays. I am not made to laze and get bored on the pool side ... I need to rumble out and just drive to exhaustion, looking for more places, more views, more. More.

Nevertheless I have to admit that this 5 days of paradise recharged a lot my batteries. They also eventually made me think about my life ad the future that awaits me. I knew many interesting people. I learnt that there's a man whose roots lie in Sicily who does cruise travels for a living (and doing quite well apparently) and is repairing the Tongan Royal canoe.

There was a scuba diving man loving Brazilian who managed to drag his Malaysian seemingly not to willing girl down a few meters underwater in some beautiful coral reef paradise. And a pretty Canadian girl who couldn't get a visa to stay permanently in Oz, so she had to take a week overseas every three months (poor thing!), and threw a raw egg at me (splattering it despite my diving effort to keep it whole).

There's a lot more to say, but for the moment I offer You my few words and some pics borrowed from the internet. They are taken at the Mango Bay resort, for what's worth.