Kitten And Sagging Belly

Of Love and Other Disasters



Every now and then I digress and I know I speak on the other, mountains, princesses waiting for the kiss of spring trapped in a cascade of ice, clouds and floating souls. But tonight I will try to tell again something about Japan, a Japan that I have seen in my travels, a history of other times but I know by heart, a story of a screen sticker paper parasols and, at least in the imagination of the beginnings of this century. E 'Japan among the notes written by Giacomo Puccini, who did not go over there but never tells an unforgettable story, tender and terrible, that the little geisha Cio Cio San, Madama Butterfly alias. I'm afraid to talk about why I'm not at work but it is a story that is close to my heart and is one of the most beautiful music ever written for the opera house. That scoundrel Puccini knew how to touch his audience and, as a perfect mechanism, his music is a bomb capable of hitting consistently today the nervous system of the listener even more cynical. I am not cynical, and every time I let rip and to tear this sublime music, be it a test at the piano, is a cd or above the mink in the theater, as has happened to me yesterday. It 's crazy, the history of the lesser butterfly you know by heart, a child bride sold for 100 yen American officer Pinkerton, who uses it as a toy and mocked her and her culture, waiting for the day when they will marry a REAL American wife! Yet every time you hope that there is not as shit ... but no, the bride and seduces her even though she has only fifteen years, says empty words while she sings her sublime love and then leaves, promising to return in the season when the robin makes the litter ... Passaniti Butterfly waits three years and still fighting for her love against all those that say he does not returns. But she waits with her little baby, born of the rape and which ignores the existence Pinkerton.
And then he comes back ... but not to her, returns with his American wife and does not even have the balls to be seen and tell him personally but knew of a child, if it takes a while no Cio Cio San that is suicide.
Damn, Puccini women in the work-and perhaps a little too into his private life, has just treated badly in the name of love, but this time with overstates and exaggerates the beauty of music with which it does! The usual story-opera she loves him, he loves her, not here! And 'to love one-way Butterfly, from the melodies to shudder when Pinkerton asks tenderly loving her "a little love, love a baby ..." Pinkerton responds only with the senses, with the desire to have that pretty little toy that you buy, and despite the warnings of his friend (mind you, she believes ") are pleased of his instincts. Butterfly's love is pure and sincere, is that of a grown child who does everything to please her husband, a stubborn love the edge of madness ... but may not want to understand with what a person has to What to do? Yet every When his cry of pain is killing me, the theater falls silent and leaves us all stunned by its eternal relevance. Especially when you see that this sublime music creates a sense of stark contrast in a scene imagined today, in which Butterfly has become one of the many daughters of sex tourism object sings "Fresh Prince Of Bel" in jeans and a shirt of Hello Kitty, imagining the return of Pinkerton locked in a showcase home for her games that overlap with those of his son.
I care about the love of Butterfly and the pain on the scene a while I experienced it myself. A few years ago in a previous more traditional setting at the Teatro Regio, imagined as a mime-dancer in a kind of personification of its objects (The fan, the pipe, the mirror etc ...). In the end I was to give her the knife to kill himself ... God that anxiety! Every evening after all the tears behind the scenes already paid along with a large group of seamstresses, teachers, technicians, etc. .. I entered the scene, sobbing, fortunately, his face covered by a black veil, feeling all the tension of the moment and the same interpretation of Butterfly that made that moment more so than ever ... But the theater is a madhouse from weak nerves or the magical place where love is expressed in all its facets through art is the most sublime music?
tell me you do not know why I am biased, but before we do close your eyes and listen to the voice of Butterfly waiting for the return of Pinkerton's return of Life ...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KVRhuQWS4tc

Ladies Underwear Stomach Holder

New born child

I often listen to this song recently. E 'Sinead O'Connor, artist, among other things, that I have always appreciated since the days of "Nothing compares to you". This song is called "A New Born Child" ("A newborn baby"). What do you want, yes, my thoughts are always there, our little Samuel, if it respects the exact time will come to know us in 30 days. This song, very sweet, it's also a soundtrack for a documentary film entitled "The first breath", which describes the experiences of childbirth in different cultures. My wife and I we looked at a few weeks ago. Very interesting. Also very exciting for us.

Lauren London Brand Of Hair

Impressions of September

Independence Way, Gaeta. Deciding to cross it is a bit 'take a vacation from the usual and ordinary, a bit' like diving in a tropical aquarium and remain in apnea for a good half hour.
E 'colored via Independence. Colorful and sometimes noisy. Old houses and old stones covered by a renewed vitality of everyday people and stories. Always the same, always different. They are the elderly and their hope to sell four figs in a number of wooden boxes at the corner of the alley, they are young mothers with children after a stranger and just bought the new toy that already do not like most, are the men of the place front of the bar that trace in the dialect's soccer game yesterday, you are vucumprà link and scrutinize your behavior away from trying to anticipate your taste in socks. There is a veil
of religiosity that hangs along the road. One of the niches in the walls with holy imprisoned behind bars and the oaths of adolescents that will emerge in their shirts before chasing the "Cashier" and "Ibrahimovic".
I love this street. The other day I tried to capture some glimpses. But do not you will ever do enough justice.

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Does Anyone Get Spots On Their Inner Thigh

fuitina

just returned from a "fuitina" to the sea, one that you just beat it, that you feel you must do at any cost, because you do not know when it happen again looked so clear, with these colors of sky and sea \u200b\u200bthat are cool hues of watercolor. My wife and I, her eyes shining with teenage sweethearts from the sketches of the foamy waves and a belly, beautiful, round, smooth, remember the promise of love that is already there, at hand and some crazy around d ' clock.