FRANCESCO NESI 1/3 – Francesco Nesi is born in a September day in San Casciano Val di Pesa, Tuscany. At present, he lives and works in Tavarnelle Val di Pesa. He is a self-taught artist, and his love for art allowed him to transform a passion in a full-time work. Dreams are the main feature of his compositions, and all …

DARK MOTHER I brought you up with soil and water, a young swallow to be and yet a wild creature, to have you as my alphabet-book in the times, and as my unfading nightlight in memory. But you, looking for the source of dreams, near the Virgin Mary, developed wings, refused the land our dark, our first mother. (Nikos Gkatsos)

http://www.visitgreece.gr/en/greek_islands/crete In the heart of the Mediterranean he was born “I Strata tis Kritis”, a new path that is added to the great Europeans Paths. If your holiday destination is Greece, not to forget the “Cretan way”, a journey of 500 km in the island of Crete. If you love to walk in contact with nature, listening to you, certainly …

AS MUCH AS YOU CAN And if you can’t shape your life the way you want, at least try as much as you can not to degrade it, by too much contact with the world, by too much activity and talk. Try not to degrade it by dragging it along, taking it around and exposing it so often, to the …

Three sisters are living – over three summers – the transition from adolescence to maturity, a journey filled with love and expectations, disappointments and illusions. Protagonists of their stories, the characters are made of sky, land and sea: the brightness of the landscape and the red earth of Greece, together with the Athens shops and what birds draw in that …

The art based on the value, functionality, and the concatenation of sounds, is called music. With reference to the technical means which they earned (and the forms in which it is expressed during the times), it envelops our planet, with shades that can be Greek or Eastern, Byzantine or romantic. The music, like painting, knows many shades of expression, what …

DENIAL On the secret seashore, white like a pigeon, we thirsted at noon; but the water was brackish. On the golden sand, we wrote her name; but the sea-breeze blew and the writing vanished. With what spirit, what heart, what desire and passion, we lived our life: a mistake! So we changed our life. (Yiorgos Seferis)

THE WAKE We saw the wake, but nothing of the boat, because it was happiness that had passed by. They gazed at each other, deep in their eyes a perception at last of the promised clearing, where great stags were running in all their freedom. No hunter entered that country without tears. It was the next day, after a night …

LIVE, FLESH Rise up corpse and walk, nothing new under the yellow sun. The last of the last of the coins of gold, the light that flakes away under the layers of time. The lock on the breaking heart, a thread of silk, a thread of lead, a thread of blood. After these waves of silence, signs of love’s black …