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On the desk of my adolescence, the same desk I saw the star of strenuous and improbable translation from the greek, it is currently positioned as a changing table surrounded by colorful antiarrosamento creams, solutions for the pediatric nose, scissors, and some termometrino pile of diapers, and right next to my beloved coffee machine rossofiammante espresso stands a bottle sterilizer that, although a pure white color, and manages to steal the scene to embarrass the first for the extravagant size and rounded, each morning, as an annex to the regular garbage bag, now there is always a blue and fragrant (I mean at the time of 'purchase of course) Lemon containing five to ten diapers used.

As I reflect on the Copernican revolution of my everyday life I hear a series of remixes of "All the love I" leaving surprising, a little later, the high volume of cases, I must have lifted automatically, knowing that my family at this time is out home. When will older Samu love dance music like her dad, I know. As the father has loved her for years past and now, from time to time, still listens to making a wink.

I give you this remix, baby. The best of those I have heard. I'll dedicate with all the love that I .

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New Year in Tokyo Japan



Each year, the usual hassle ... New Year's Eve! I state that I have always been free from all party animal instinct at all costs! For years I worked the evening of December 31 in some theater, and made a quick toast with colleagues, racing to bed to rest for the recitation of January 1! Since my life has become more "normal" here to peep the problem of the end of the year, every time you solve the last: a dinner with friends, many, few, maybe a trip to town, an evening Two more special ...
This time, a wish I would have! I would like to experience a New Year in Tokyo! One thing fast but well organized! Here's the schedule: starting December 30 in the evening, so arrive seven hours ahead of time and not lose! So much of the rest in the hotel zone (perhaps at the Park Hyatt just not to miss anything!) And then off in the city!
Mmmmmh the first What to do? Asakusa, stroll among the stalls of the market, says the temple, to see how it will be 2011, and then a bit of relaxation Jakotsu yu onsen which is nearby! Then metro to Ikebukuro, dall'omino half hour massage and then shopping at Tokyu Hands, all those wonderful things that are useless here!
Meanwhile, it is almost time for dinner so better get back to the hotel in Shinjuku! On where to eat I still have some doubt, the very cool restaurant in the hotel with superb views of the city or just the usual Sushizanmai the fish market? Dunno, you could make a super cool cocktail in the hotel and suitably dressed up with something more simple then go for a feast of sushi and ... midnight? A Shibuya, of course, in the midst of the world's busiest crossroads in the midst of millions of people, including lost! While we're here you could make a leap into a disk Truzzi among those we have back there or in Roppongi! The
January 1 is an important moment, is the first glimpse of the new year and you can not go to sleep! We should do all the good things that we do throughout the year and spend it with loved ones! We must start with a prayer, or at least most intimate thoughts. No matter who or how we believe, a temple, a church, a statue ... it's the same thing, so I'll visit a temple, as is used here in the first year, but not in Tokyo! I want to go to see Mount Fuji in the snow, get into a small temple and light incense, and then take a walk with snowshoes on snow-covered slopes and search for a natural onsen in the woods in which to throw a hot bath, in silence ... I wonder how it will smell the cold, dry mountain air mixed with steam from the ferruginous ...
Here comes the dark early, it is time to go down ... down to earth!

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I do not write for three months, almost the length a blink of an eye after dividing the first from a lifetime ago for a lifetime is the time it takes me noticing the new things that make me a bit 'older and the usual things that ever have assumed a new and largely unexpected. Sometimes I think about the people in my life as a kind of engines, turbines, perhaps, running at different speeds and different directions that impress my actions and my thoughts, my everyday life then get the speed and direction resulting from these different forces, some of which are opposed, others more or less aligned. Samuel came to kick-powerful and decisive, dictating to my everyday life a new direction and intensity, I could not foresee and to which I am still struggling to respond. I do not know if I will return to write constantly, and now I feel like this small window, a small note, a kind of travel record, before diving back into this incredible thing that's happening to me.

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