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my moleskine. The Rose Ele


For six years, I have a moleskine filling with thoughts of others.

I built a small sort of collage of words written by others, some from film, most from books, some from comic books, poems, essays, cartoons, and even quotes from my friends.

few days ago I thought I had lost this moleskine and I am desperate lot, because I knew that I would never be able to collect it all again and that something would be lost.

So I got the idea to do something similar to the "Book of Rosa Ele," leaving a thought on these virtual pages a week.

I chose Monday because it is a day that no one likes it and because I thought that especially on a Monday, any distraction is good not to go to work immediately.

I'd like to be able to write something appropriate from week to week, but I realize that is not always possible to find the proper citation with what happens around us.

What I will report in this column, will vary each week for author, source, topic and length.

will find sentences in a row, but even half a page. You can decide if and when it will be worth it to the end.

I leave you with that now that I've talked enough.

" If the times do not ask your best part, invented past. "

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Stefano Benni.

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Category: Image CUL Friday.

This gentleman here is Rupert Everett in the movie: "The scandalous adventures of Lord Byron."

This week, specially chosen for us by my friend Roberta.

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drawings? No, I do comics.

Making comics is a necessity.

It is not drawing.

Having had a pencil in his hand since the age of two years, it is not difficult to make a design to please. The

is instead to make a table, even if some of you could let me note that the difference lies in placing a square around a drawing.

A picture freezes for a moment. One in which action takes place or feel a particular emotion.

Comics speaks of a time.

How the hell do you close the time in a two-dimensional space with the help of a pencil?

Boh! But it happens and it's like magic.

is the magic that I chose to tell my space.

perfect space that makes me feel in a desert, or in a crowded subway during a rainy day in rush hour.

is my size.

The cartoon is my space, the strip is my time and my story page.

This is what I can manage.

no longer are capable and less is not enough for me.

is the place to control and decide when I say my and when to shut up, so that they give me the rope, not to see nor to read, but to feel.

'm not good at responding to the request: "I do a drawing?"

A drawing of what? A drawing by whom?

I'm not a writer of stories, but even I draw something from nothing.

mean, I do, but I was wrong.

probably why the designs that I put here, I'm always inspired by songs or novels.

Because they have a size that is not the picture, but to me it is easy to recognize as something similar.

expression without context I find just a beautiful thing, but that does not remain. Not that

I am convinced to do or have done things timeless, but if questioned about it, I know I know how to give an explanation.

I know why a light falls that way, because I know the character's eyes are closed and not open, and I know why he is not saying anything at that time.

"Comfortable" is the right word.

When I go back to drawing board after a period in which I have only pictures, it's a bit like going back in his own bed after sleeping for a few days in the seaside home of a friend.

Maybe the bed was too soft, large cushion, perfumed sheets, but it's in your bed at home that is your template.

right one, the one where joints when you turn out the light.

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Beware of spies! The Rose Ele



My grandmother had a friend who called Gegna.
not know if it was the name, last name, a nickname, the diminutive of something, I have no idea.
I know that this lady was really bad and had a husband named Serafino with the look of an undertaker (from you, what we imagine all!).
She had cheeks and shooting a head scarf that was tied under the chin.
was a phenomenon, because it was putting in my grandmother's house and would not go away anymore.
I remember once seeing her get out of the window, my grandmother asked me to keep quiet.
turned off the TV and we were both waiting for him to leave for not fuck the whole afternoon to listen to his menate.
Yes, because she always had interesting stories to tell, just remember telling her indefinitely without avercene already spoken like a million times!

One of the best was this, claimed that his neighbors, pushing walls, rempicciolissero the house.
It was very safe because every day you put them to count the tiles, and each count will also find some less.

Then he said that banks will steal the money, so always rode with a huge bag, brown, filled with cash and jewelry.
Sure, why could not even leave them at home since thieves always came when she was not there! Then

near my house there is a deposit ATM.
Under the tracks, she claimed that there were spies sent specifically to control the people who lived in his palace.
including you, of course.
One of these spies, was that she went to her house posing as service technician to repair washing machines. She
washing machine engineers called them once a week because he was convinced that some kind of corporation would send the secret house in dirty water, which obviously could not wash clothes.

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Category: Image CUL Friday.



For this Friday I chose David Duchovny in Californication.

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"The best thing is a picture that never changes, even when people do it."

(Andy Warhol)

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Studies.

As I wrote below, the character has no name.
I think Ryan has the face, but I would not influence anyone, why I'm asking for help.
What name we give it?
His face from what?
... do not give me obvious answer to that question eh!

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A little Billy Elliot ...... hopefully!

your little nipotone My friend decided to take the road of shoes, sweat and iron discipline, I do not know where it comes, for now there is great enthusiasm and huge smiles!
I am sure that if it should ever take to the stage of a theater you will be there in the front row and you hear the applause from inside the heart ... Accompany you on this journey you have always been a great artist ...

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GERSON: The bottom of the barrel


Gerson You know?

If you do not know them, very bad!

can fix peering HERE.

I tell you why the March 8 will be released on their new album.

And the ass? The donkey I have designed for them, and soon will end on shirts and T-shirts!

If you want to know why just a donkey, and counts the days and then go buy the album!

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Sergio Bambaren: Remember your dream ...

dreams are made of hard work.
Maybe if we try to take shortcuts,
lose sight of the reason
so we started dreaming
and eventually discover
that the dream is not ours anymore.
If we listen to the wisdom of the heart
time there will be foolproof
meet our destiny.
Remember: When you're
to give up,
when you feel that life was
too hard on yourself,
remember who you are.
Remember your dream ...

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event of 13 February 2011



"
event for women of 13 febbraio.SE NOT NOW WHEN? The struggles of '68 and those of today. And a daughter to accompany the streets."

I make my own the words of a mother who manifested 'to defend the rights proclaimed in '68, in his name and his daughter, on behalf of all the daughters who are studying and working honestly in this society' so stingy While working with those who and does not appear.
I think of you I'd be next and I'd say that we could not miss, we could not scream our outrage, I think of you, your courage in many difficult situations and to your dignity. Tomorrow will also be in the midst of noice an angel.

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Giorgio Morandi - Painting the silence

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The Rose Ele Category: Image CUL Friday.

Okay, okay, it's blue, right?

But today we are generous and we have both the A side to side B! Ole!

course, it's Dr. Manhattan in Watchmen.

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Myths

Being both a false a false shy extrovert, the relationship I have with others, often take strange folds.

One thing I've always been very clear, is that I have low tolerance towards the authorities.

No, not the cops, with them is too easy.

reduces the concept to my world and the experiences I've had in the past, particularly on the issue of student-teacher.

I know you are no longer a student of any school, but the teachers have them anyway. Less and less, but there are.

Whether it is right or wrong, has never been a problem (for me, anyway ...), the fact is that I can not, nor have never been able to assume that the person who is the other side of a chair, is necessarily worthy of consideration.

I know I look like a bad person and snooty saying.

Maybe I really am, I do not know, but I was clearly not a question of: "I have nothing to learn."

Please, God forbid, is that I never went down the idea of \u200b\u200bnot being able to choose who to have as a teacher. There.

is that if I as a student I have to show not to be stupid to have more than a good grade, a good consideration by those seeking to teach something, because he has to take it for granted that I'm an open book waiting to be written?

from him eh! And no one has called me a dick!

Heck, the book is me! If you start to scribble I would also have the right to ask: "Excuse me, fuck you doing?" These

menate I think come from the high school period.

trauma.

I attended Caravaggio (also known as Prinetti), and in those years I got to know of human cases that instead of explaining what they should (including the outset I do not give a fuck), they cried because they downloaded from boyfriends, touching objects in the case arguing that "draw energy from things "(I swear on my right hand that is true!), or who came to class half an hour late because they went to the grocery store.

The fact is that then when someone does not like me, I can not do not ever understand.

When your mom comes to tell you that you face as his ass, probably some truth must be there.

That, perhaps, has always been a problem for those around me, that for me.

Especially when you're a middle-aged who feels annoyed by a little girl.

Only later is something that took me to accept my place.

And I would say that it was not guilt, nor of me.

I was the constant, the teachers who were changed by someone and when I think I can learn something, then I become docile.

The fact is that people who I like very idealized, and when someone enters the "circle of good," I become very protective and also tending to justify the bullshit and low blows. This

in general.

Imagine if someone can convince me that does not want to scribble in my book!

is an unhealthy behavior does not lead to anything good.

To give you an example, it's like when you speak well of a movie, tirandoti idiot for weeks telling you what is cool and directed, as are good actors and the music hit, then you look and it happens that more than low enough you can not give.

why did not shit, just ... you imagined you were better.

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very sad story of people very unhappy. We


The son of a carpenter I know has a father of eighty.

This old man had prostate problems, and after discovering the need to spend the rest of her life on dialysis, he decided to call it quits and gets a gun.

Shoot.

The bullet entered through his temple and out the other.

You fuck the optic nerve but does not die.

So now has prostate problems, is on dialysis and no longer sees.

After this, I promise to stop complaining about my bad luck for a week.

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Always working for you! The Rose Ele

Collaboration proceeds liiiiscia!

One thing that I did not say is that the tables will also be colored Bloodymilla.

Who is curious to see what will come of it?

I have been in the morbidly until I saw the first completed.

If you already have trawled the past here and some of my work, you've seen boards that there are not completely stained.

is experienced and we are pleased with the results, hoping that you can pleasure when you have the chance to see them.

For the moment, I show you some other cartoon in black and white.

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Susanna Tamaro from "Dear Mathilda"

Friendship is one of the most beautiful feeling to live because it gives wealth, emotional, complicated and therefore it is absolutely free. Suddenly you can see, we choose, we build a kind of intimacy you can walk next door and grow together while crossing roads different, though far apart as the two of us, hundreds of thousands of kilometers.

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Category: Image CUL Friday.

This week we have Edward Norton in the film American History X

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People of the night.


The night is more beautiful.
The city takes breath, it seems that sleep, and triggers the mechanism that alters the strange perceptions.
What's going on around us seems to run at different times from the normal, slower or faster. But no normal.
is a period in the evening I can not stay at home and when it happens, my brain puts in motion a mechanism sending negative messages to my mood.
But there is a stupid thing, thinking that without any logic I can find reassuring to know that not far from my home in the place I frequent usually, everything continues to move as the last time that there are was.
That there are people that if you give a fuck where you are, what you do, the menate take you back, but that is there from the time of opening, which continues to do the same things as before, talking about the same arguments and drink the same beers.
So if you are not the nine, but after midnight, and still want to go out because the walls of your home you shake him, you always find the same bartender who first gives you a pat on the ass and then offers you a beer and asks what the hell makes you have that face, because for the people of the night is all a little bit sacred and profane. But no normal.

Normality is for the day. Palahniuk would say so.
Even living in a big city, we discover that we all like to know a country, the same faces month after month.
spend summers and winters go, but people always survives the night, hidden in the rooms, confused in the shadows.
will then be this: a matter of lights.
do not know.
"Live every day as if it were the last." Nobody ever does really.
Yet on the important stuff is talked of the night, perhaps because she is triggering subconsciously aware, or rather fear, that that is really the last time that we have to say or do whatever we want.
And then you find yourself doing things without sense, as an average pay on someone just because he said the wrong word, or to hear the cock of another never seen before, drinking the fourth beer of the evening telling you of his love gone, or the child who does not see for months.
The people of the night he wanted to tell his life as if it were someone else for trying a little bit of a pain and tenderness, like a story or read somewhere.
Sad, unbelievable, funny, sad, but "normal" ... no.

Normal

not.