Tiffany-towers-one-piece-swimsui

mala tempora currunt

Dear friends, I intended to devote one page to a great sculptor, whose work, revised in many years, has opened my mind turning the motions with sincere feeling and admiration, almost a childlike wonder: a rare thing, which just happens to things " beautiful and holy. "
And I also thought, continuing to paraphrase Foscolo, I hope not in error and with the necessary humility, open that my scritterello with a kind of opening words, even from the Tomb "egregious things in mind the strong light ..." Yes, dear friends because intense emotion and feelings that these plaster models have aroused deep gave me comfort, as the illusion that my mind, per un attimo, potesse aver trovato lo stesso vigore del Poeta: pur restando ben consapevole della diversità, dato che laddove nel Foscolo ad accendere il sentimento erano state probabilmente la memoria, la riflessione, la grandezza del genio… qui invece aveva operato la forza dell’arte, quell’empatia che annullando del tutto il tempo c’illude in un essere universale alla cui “mensa” sublime ci è dato per un momento di partecipare.
Sì, cento cose vi sarebbe da dire, cento vie, pensieri diversi eppure coerenti vi sarebbe da seguire. Forse un giorno mi ci proverò. Anche se Libero Andreotti (è lui lo scultore capace di codesti prodigi) meriterebbe assai più e assai meglio di quanto io sia able. Certainly be the extracted using the honors it deserves oblivion Of this tomb (although noble place), at least from the studies, not day, as usual, but the whole years. Was it perhaps Codest reflect that, besides the strength of feelings, 'he recalled the Foscolo monuments.
- Why not now? - He thinks a few friends. Unfortunately because the things of the day we put it all in calling them indecent, mephitic squalor (after all if we were able to stretch again and again and again the feeling of what is great and sublime would certainly conquered death). Instead of feeling seems almost to pull the edges or pockets of jacket, as if ghosts, these incattiviti yes, saying that they wanted to call things "good and holy" can expect that no one can remove them all (only maybe a little time 'the fatigue), whereas it is now time take off the dress and return to defile the noble mud and dust.
But now, if so, I do not want it to point tear, and even poetic, and I do not quite remember crying on the monument of Alfieri Italy, nor retrace saddened the aisles and complain at every step because of the confrontation, nor Finally, on the stone to stop poor poor reminiscent of the great Gentile dear (to him so no one "its" can take anything ...) No, I guess to get me the coat, they, the great: then and because of the many just me? No! Dear friends, my ghosts are other people, are all those poor, cheap and unimportant people who have died because they wanted a better Italy. All that ended in Gentucca pile of ossuaries, or who knows where, who was not able to develop noble concepts, but that his heart was burning, as the old woman who knew no prayers addressed to the Almighty and pray on their knees to "shoes and clogs "by the hour, even with tears in his eyes, he was so convinced his deep query. All those who now right now left ma ancora dapprima, da quando il piombo era austriaco ed ancora prima, sono morti per gli ideali della Patria, per quello in cui credevano, oppure per sbaglio travolti da cose più grandi di loro si sono ammazzati fra loro nella guerra civile. Ma ci pensate amici cari a quei giovani di vent’anni, poco più poco meno, morti ad El Alamein; a quelli bruciati nei carrarmati dell’Ariete o congelati nelle steppe o sul Don? Oppure con donne vecchi e bambini fucilati proditoriamente nei nostri paesi, ovvero trucidati solo perché portavano una camicia nera. Non ci chiamano forse rivoltandosi nelle loro tombe per la spavalda, impudente cialtroneria di tutta la nostra cosiddetta “classe dirigente”? Per questa Poor Italy in the hands of a gang of scoundrels, the scoundrels of every kind and smart. But how could it be reduced?
for decades - I repeat, I know - we have come to believe that the right of honesty, trust the word, the handshake, values \u200b\u200bthat were worth spending something of himself. That our values, we firmly believe - and I continue to believe again - also worth the sacrifice unfair (remember the brothers Mattei, Ramelli, the Mantekas and many others) for decades we have watched with disgusted contempt the misdeeds of party politics, the swindles, tricks of the palace to the robbing, the partitions patronage, the waste of public money ... We have suffered exclusion, bullying ... And now here we are, our disgust, whose maximum leader, the "leader" has led his troops into the fray, the spirited madness of defeat: as in the Berlin bunker (but without a final suicide - unfortunately -) or reduced by the Valtellina ...
Almost incredible as possible: first - you know - all from just decided for the wedding with the Chevalier, and like the pied piper, has brought with him behind the topastri, then when they like it or not almost all are drowned, decided to reverse an ambiguous, no one knows what in the name of design, as he was the "world", la “via”, la “verità”, la “vita”... lasciando i malcapitati nella non facile necessità di decidere se continuare ad affogare in un mare di (***), oppure fare retromarcia anche loro, continuando a seguire un (presidente della Camera) che non sa dove andare, ma che nel frattempo, da “uomo” di destra ha inverti il proprio linguaggio, e c’è da immaginare anche (se possibile) il proprio pensiero. Insomma seguire una sorta di Trans(politico), dove e come nessuno ha capito...
Hanno ragione i buoni italiani a rigirarsi incazzati nella tomba! A far tremare le lapidi degli ossari! Neppure alla corte di Papa Alessandro, che pure in congiura e tradimento era maestro, si era giunti a tanto. Ovvero, almeno lì un qualche disegno politico, fra ammazzamenti e festini, incesti e sevizie, il buon Machiavegli c’insegnava a trovarlo… In questo casino, perdonatemi, non c’è neppure codesto. Solo sempre più in basso, come presi da una cieca e folle volontà di distruggere ogni cosa, quasi maniacalmente a voler attizzare la rivolta, l’ottusa reazione delle viscere di qualcuno che forse colpirà assurdamente, come sempre accade. E come al solito, si dice: “pagherà il giusto per il peccatore”. Perchè in questo marasma solo ciò, purtroppo, c’è da aspettarsi. Altro che pacificazione nazionale! In un momento come questo, with many of our citizens without work, who do not know where to turn around, with companies that close, these people think of "maneuvers" or the "intrigues" of the building. All we need is a Marie Antoinette saying: The people have not bread? Let them eat croissants! What a disgusting spectacle
when the dog turns to the owner who has risen from the pound, and after voluntarily followed the celebration, among yelping and jumping, wagging his tail and licking my hand, as it accords with overnight Melampus martens to carve the chickens ...
Now I do not know how else to go the sad "faces" of this country, I just hope that the dog is given a sound lesson and, as they say, once you hit rock bottom, you can not help but go back, though in truth I believe it just because I think with these characters you can not go anywhere, and I do not see others around. Unfortunately.

Stepic

Bruno San Martino, December 3, 2009 (St. Francis Xavier)

The works reproduced (badly photographed by hand in low light) are found in Libero Andreotti and Palazzo del Podestà in Pisces, which are well preserved, but seldom visited.
bs

Gaspari Nutrition Sizeon

Tric-trac! Who is in is in, who's out is out!

remember (who knows why, and just today) that in an old tale, that his grandfather Mariano told my mother and she to me, the more awake and attentive of three Anatrini, blocking the door with the latch exclaimed: - Tric-trac! Who is in is in, who's out is out!
And the wolf (perhaps the most famous late Ezekiel and the three little pigs) remained out.
will say: - It has to do that!? Got to do that memories do not emerge at random point, and as a scent in the air reminds us of a certain moment of our existence, so today for some situations or events a sort of reverse process took me back to the memory of that kind of peremptory diktat.
Codest was more or less, that Mr Fini agreed to undergo the Cav. B. before the last election, and it was more or less in this latter fashion that he, too, Mr. Fini, AN dismissed in a few minutes, with placet, perhaps for some obtorto neck, all the cadres of the party, certainly in dismay of most of the base and middle management, who shortly thereafter, would have seen the celebration of conferences and farce as the hasty cancellation of values, recent and distant memory and future expectations for the uncertain prospect an adventure in a vacuum without reference to the more pragmatic political opportunism, on a barge in the tax route is gradually changing from the polls or the personal needs of the "prince" - so to speak! -.
I must confess, but I have said on several occasions that what is most disconcerting and I mean those 'bitterness (which still continues) in Codest crucial moment, was not so much the smallness cialtronesca of the head, as the lightness opportunism with which the soldiers went back (by Francesco Storace'll tell you another time), probably more worried about their re-nomination to the ideas and values name of which they were elected and managers who had that responsibility toward the base and quell'elettorato who had placed their trust in them and their expectations, their hopes. And indeed, to be even more honest, who for decades gave them food and a life of privilege. Yeah! The place! Mino Maccari wrote on the Wild: "Let those who made roast trial was put in place"
Other times, my friends. But back to us, what Our continued to do well or badly after I described last post, but this morning that the national press gives an account of the last statements of the Cav. B., who once said he would like the beautiful Anatrini: - Tric-trac! Who is in is in, who's out and out! That is: who is not with the majority of the PDL (ie me) can start packing.
And now the question that arises is this: what will our brave "colonels"? Mr. Fini will follow in a new adventure, uncertain what values \u200b\u200boutside of the right, because he stood costs, or This "samples" of coherence to one's values \u200b\u200band ideals, will opt for the certainty of the "right" with the hope the re-bid?
Well ... Mr Fini said that as proverbiuccio? Who makes the wait! Yes, a little over a year does with its tric-trac followed it all, maybe today, for the same reasons "ideal" all the desert you. They will do very well!
Other times, other men: I'm thinking of the Second World War, to the ruling class that instead of successfully recycled in DC (or elsewhere, others did so in droves) as although it was possible, he decided to create the MSI and its ideas, values, their hopes decided to fight - and suffer - and keep the margin ostracized for decades.
I feel deep inside (with some humility) heir to them, and I strongly believe that there is no chair or prebend or remuneration which may lead to renounce his ideas. But I want to add
another consideration, since I can not in any way take away my respect to those (I mean basic, middle and to the many elected representatives in the institutions of AN: the District Council, to regional ones) those decisions have been insane, continuing against their will to perform with integrity and honesty to their mandate: It is not realized Mr. Fini of the difficulties that have faced Codest flowing in PDL? Difficulties in relationships, quota of an office ... conflicts for applications where very often the "best" they had to bow his head in front of the "number" or cialtronbesca marioleria some people of "forks" of political adventurers or recycled broken every practice and intrigues ... He did not realize, ours, that his continued utterances while sinking, the disagreements between elected and electorate of AN added reference to these relations even further difficulties in the PDL, if not ostracized?
Now I believe you can always start all over again. This at least shows the history, from natural disasters to wars, et cetera. But I also believe that all evil is not a silver lining, ... I just want to wish that somehow you manage the National Right to overcome this crisis, if it manages to brush off rogues and adventurers to come to change everything, as he said this is not the Leopard: that the change is not given as almost always happens to those who change everything to not change anything at all.

Stepic

Bruno San Martino, 27 November 2009 (San Massimo, San Virgilio)

The drawings are by JBD Ingres

How Does Glue For Steel Work

and he wanted to set fire to the ships ... STILL LIFE

Dear friends, I see
, with a little 'sense of guilt that many of you have continued to visit this blog. I wonder if it had not been the case to return from "leave" a little ' prima. Ma subito mi viene il dubbio che forse sarebbe meglio non rientrare mai più. Sono certo che intendete cosa voglio dire.
E non intendo per nulla iniziare col solito piagnisteo. In Italia oramai piangono tutti, e non sembrano saper fare altro. Non ci sono soluzioni né formule, chi le spiattella non è altro che il solito sciocco di turno. Penso infatti che la “matassa” della realtà sia così aggrovigliata che non sia più possibile oramai districarla. Né capire come stiano le cose. Né riesco a vedere (ma non sono veggente), chi sia in grado di brandire la scure.
Non vedo dunque nessun appiglio che possa consentire al buon senso, alla normale ragionevolezza, di interpretare i fatti per darsi una ragione of events, not of events.
Good Machiavelli taught us to infer and interpret, but more to learn from history. And I in these days, if I look behind us, nothing more I can see that the Spaniards in the sixteenth century (the very years in which Maestro Nicholas exiled in San Casciano elaborated the foundations of Political Science), landed on the coast of ' Central America gave fire to his ships not to return. To be forced to go ever further in their work of the conquistadors. Questions: - what for, CODEST thought? Yeah! - I will reflect: - For what! In fact there is only similar (but si tratta soltanto di una “immagine”) un signore che brucia le navi per non arretrare dal nulla in cui si è cacciato. Alludo al signor presidente Fini, il quale è voluto andare ad ogni costo nel PDL del Cav. Ma ora (novello democristiano) fa di tutto per remargli contro… Continua, chi riesce a comprenderne la ragione è bravo, a fare di tutto per allontanare definitivamente l’elettorato di riferimento di Alleanza Nazionale (in questo il suo dar fuoco alle navi) con dissennati proclami sinistresi (par proprio che abbia il terrore che quei coglioni dei cosiddetti colonnelli, facendo retromarcia dal PDL, lo scarichino lasciandolo ai propri deliri). Ma quel che è peggio che con codesto elettorato, oramai sbandato e senza punti di riferimento (del resto se tanti fossero stati disposti verso F.I. non avrebbero votato A.N.) non fa altro che alimentare il proprio “nemico mortale”: la Lega (o almeno ciò un tempo avrebbe essa dovuto rappresentare). L’unico partito politico decisamente nemico della Nazione e della sua unità. Fatto salvo, s’intende, qualche residuo beota vetero comunista malato d’Internazionale. I preti per oggi li lascio in pace! Han troppo da fare con altre faccenduole…
Così è dell’avventura “politica” del Nostro presidente, il quale, come diceva un caro amico citando spesso la “legge di Peeter”: ha raggiunti il massimo livello della propria incompetenza !
Sincerely, Your
bs

San Martino, 17 November 2009

PS I did not say: - I'm finally back from holiday ! - I did not say!

World's Best Female Genital Tattoos

for lack of great ideas I will go away on vacation. Happy holidays everyone!

A cordial greeting,

Bruno

3 Years Of Sobriety Poem

A Midsummer thought. Almost. Artists

Dear friends, we have only one face. It should not be lost. I mean, to those involved in policy by himself, which is often better, much better to lose the elections and not fretting too much, in fact, I will tell you, in some cases are even convinced that we must strongly hope that with this unit.
I mean, if you are not in a position, a When you attain the election victory, to give appropriate responses to requests that come from our community (and that is very easy to predict), it is better that there is no victory. Unless, as often happens, has lost his way, the true end, the very rationale of the policy, which happens very often now, everywhere now, on each side, unfortunately, when it mixes craftily replaces the policy or the mere exercise of power, when the duty in service to our entire community - big or small does the same - are to replace (outside of the right size) personal ambition and his own interest which has its own reason to exist when it is legitimate, but instead becomes a serious fault when it is - again - excessive and unlawful.
But there is another fault, which is also serious because the lust for power masquerading as policy, CODEST guilty in the scam is real and lies in the inability of the electorate, the inadequacy, nell'inettitudine who wins respect the tasks that the victory gives him and imposes on him. And who of us would entrust the helm of the ship to a sailor incapable and inexperienced? And that, we would try? Of course not! He could only put in half declared fit, but what harm would it to us and to the ship? Even Phaeton, irresponsible and arrogant, Apollo persuaded to entrust the reins of the wagon, but what harm was it?! You should then do as Phaeton, especially if the wagon is neither we nor our father, but it is related interests and expectations of many. But unfortunately we spilled the ancient Latin phrase, and where they "gave" it to anyone at all, "res nullius" in fact, is rooted the insane costume that considers "property" of all of the fungi (to paraphrase the words of the macaroni of Boccaccio, the more you seize more has ).
Now someone among those following this blog will wonder who he is and where I want to getting at with this rebuke. Are assured, is not for them. Only an invitation to some friend, to a careful and sober reflection exactly one month from the European elections, for which, at the outset, I was not allowed to say something ( I have nothing to say, June 26). But as I shall conceal Manzoni not only the name of the characters I have in mind, but also that of the place. Suffice it that it is a city "always" been managed (badly, even worse, perhaps sometimes even by guillotine - if the local sans-culottes with friends they're not blind, deaf and dumb -) ... administration, said, the so-called left, with the blind - even the (Deaf and dumb) - the complicity of a DC, in time for the more "companion snacks. But - you ask - the center right now in that city, is it? Politically, of course! What accounts for the many honest and good citizens, zealous for many voters who yearn for change after decades? Sure hope! And certainly militate standest many good and honest people, which, believe me, I have temporarily entrusted to each, even without a receipt, but, but ... but there are, however, also "dwarf" (with all due respect), dancers , morons of all sizes, slanderers, gossips, idlers, ruffians, doppiogiochisti, inetti, incapaci, trappoloni, truffatorelli, strolaghi e ladri di galline! E presuntuosi, tanto sciocchi quanto immodesti. Ebbene? Penserà qualcuno. Sentitelo! Ecco l’anima candida!. E non ci sono, codesti, pari pari anche dall’altra parte? E che cosa pretendi, una foresta di alberi perfetti, tutti sani, dritti e riccamente fronzuti?
Per carità! Non fraintendiamo. Per casa mia vorrei il meglio, ma sono pure disposto ad accontentarmi. E allora vorrei solo che chi si propone fosse poi in grado di mantenere le promesse! Dato che le strade sono poche e strette, ed anche cambiando strada s’incontra sempre qualcuno. Rammentate cosa scrivevo all’inizio: di facce ne abbiamo una sola!
Già, si dirà, il solito vecchio, il solito brontolone, il solito rompi coglioni a cui non sta mai bene nulla! Forse. La questione è che per decenni ho chiamato nel deserto (o me lo sono immaginato), ho suggerito e raccomandato di studiare, di prepararsi perché la Politica, non come io la intendo, ma com’è e dev’essere, è cosa assai seria, richiede preparazione, rigore, rinunzie ed abnegazione, ed oggi, nell’ammucchiata che mi appare davanti, vedo per gran parte cialtroneria ed approssimazione; ho visto scegliere i candidati come vidi scegliere in caserma: il meccanico ed il barbiere furono mandati in cucina, il ristoratore di Cesenatico a fare il parrucchiere. Così la scelta dei candidati del Pdl: anzi, peggio, dato che nessuno è stato riformato in questa e mi immagino in altre città. Che tristezza! E non mi si dica, per carità, “mal comune mezzo gaudio!”
Sì, se non si era capito, sono decisamente incazzato. In primo luogo coi vari direttori d’orchestra, nazionali e locali; a cominciare dal signor Fini, e poi, non di meno, giù giù con tutta la schiera di luogotenenti, colonnelli, portaborse, controfigure e leccaculo, locali e nazionali che non hanno saputo opporgli un rifiuto, girargli spalle, fargli il gestaccio dell’ombrello o qualcos’altro altrettanto significativo. Sono incazzato, anzi di più, per tutti quelli che come me MSI have played for before and after convintamene in An, for all those who died, who risked their lives for all those who have spent their lives for an idea of \u200b\u200bnation, dreaming of peace and the good of the community , for all those who for their political activism have been ostracized, for those who have not found or have lost their jobs, for those who wanted Italy to make a real difference, make it honest, the better, for those who have risked all and suffered that since they wanted to one day be able to come to terms with their ideas, winning in the governance of our national community, our local communities, for all those like me who have always thinking about politics with the dignity of a capital letter.
Oh how many times I am stopped to admire the tomb of Machiavelli in Santa Croce. First pass the plaque of Gentile, then crying on the ark of Italy Vittorio Alfieri, but then again there, a few yards, I paused and cast his eyes over the top, where a graceful marble showed how the policy thinking and the word of Nicholas were worth far more weight in gold.
No! One had ingaglioffire. Ingaglioffire And that's all.

Well, my dear friend, that you deceive yourself in the art of dodging sows, piglets and older pigs encrusted, but also jumps you in mush foul imagining MISUSE called one day to the rank of piper magician
Better ... nobody around, believe me. Better laburnum smell the scent of damp and heavy underbrush. Believe me!
or at least stop. Stop. Think. It built a large horse.

Stepic
San Bruno Martino, July 7, 2009, San Claudio

PS reproduce works by George Grosz, or Georg Ehrenfried Groß (Berlin, July 26, 1893 - Berlin, July 6, 1959)

Chets For Poptropica H

Italian: Arrigo Del Rigo

I do not know if for reasons di spazio o per incomprensibile malafede, nella pagina biografica dedicata ad Arrigo Del Rigo, in http://www.pratoshop.com/perso_rigo.shtml , si scrive che « Rievocandone succintamente la vicenda, Ardengo Soffici scriveva nel Frontespizio (Dicembre 1939) queste righe: “Il 26 febbraio del ’32 Del Rigo morì in un’aura di tragedia e di mistero. Così modesto e candido com’era, egli non fu forse sorretto nel momento fatale, dalla coscienza del proprio valore. La sua morte prematura privò i parenti di un figlio bene amato, gli amici di un compagno indimenticabile, l’arte italiana di una luminosa speranza”.» Orbene, certo che Soffici non avrà inteso scrivere an essay, and hence he devotes an entire small page of the magazine to this beautiful young promise, cut short too early. It does little, the soft, to place this young man (a young hopeful promise and I stress) among the Italian artists, was acknowledged as a beautiful oblivion given him more than Italy and Prato (the city of Del Rigo), ideally democratic convintamene and anti-fascist. But I will not point
embroiled in a controversy that does not interest me, as with those who are blind to the facts or in bad faith there is no reason to hold.

remember though, that some thirty years ago I decided to take care of the staff, writing about him or dedicating an article (perhaps) an integer number of arcimodesta a publication that was published at that time. So I asked, the sculptor Quinto Martini (but I had also asked Gino Brogi Peter Bugiani and Giulio Pierucci), when reminded of the staff: - Of course, that I remember! - Incalza immediately, and began to tell. - Do me a favor - I said at the end. - All these things, write them!
And so a couple of months after we met in the foundry and gave me "his memory", which was entrusted to three typewritten pages which, tornatemi his hands these days, I give public willingly.
course, to read what I wrote Quinto Martini accorgo che senz’altro avrà integrato le lacune della memoria con la sua fervida fantasia d’artista, ma tant’è! Senz’altro si tratta di quanto il Martini amava rammentare del suo coetaneo più sfortunato.




Ultimo incontro con

Arrigo Del Rigo

È passato più di mezzo secolo dalla tragica scomparsa dell’amico, e molti ricordi si sono sfocati perdendo il loro contorno reale. Ma, fra i tanti incontri con lui, uno è rimasto ben chiaro in my mind, and it is 1'ultimo of 1932, shortly before its demise.
not remember the exact day but it was the early hours of a cold, gray afternoon. Blew a gentle fade away sharp, typical of the city [Prato] from many chimneys. It was at Piazza delle Carceri, he came from Via Pugliese, with his hands in his coat pocket and the well-worn dark hat on his head. We said goodbye, smiled as usual, exchanged a few words looking at the church [Santa Maria delle Carceri of Giuliano da Sangallo ] and after a while 'I took the bike and, as a boy, he repeatedly circled the empty square and windy. When he stopped me and made it, stamping their feet on the ground said: "Moviamoci, it's cold." Crossing Piazza San Francesco, Via Rinaldeschi went in to say hello Zola's friend Taylor. His shop was a meeting place for us young anti-fascists, taken from art, literature, where he also talked about politics, who was in prison, and especially Russian literature. I left the bike leaning against the wall near the sports shop, and went, as so often, a quiet stroll through the city, speaking of friends, our labor and material difficulties in order to devote more things to serenade the art.
We had the same age, and the military for over two years & it was behind us. When I greeted him to return to my country, mi disse risoluto: "Ti accompagno per un pezzo di strada. Sono uscito di casa perché avevo bisogno di prendere aria... Mi sentivo in prigione."
Allungò il braccio destro e guardando le nuvole, tracciò nell'aria un mezzo cerchio. Camminava sul marciapiede, parlava e fischiettava, dondolandosi leggermente com'era sua abitudine. Prima di uscire dalla Porta Santa Trinità, mettendo la mano sul manubrio disse, senza guardarmi: "Anche se fa buio, vedo che ci hai il fanale a carburo." Appena fuori Porta, si tirò su il bavero del cappotto marrone, si abbottonò bene, infilò i pollici nelle tasche, e, accostandosi alla mia bicicletta, cominciò ad animarsi parlando della sua pittura e dei suoi problemi personali: man's problems rather than the painter. (I was surprised, because I had not thought so introverted.) It was a time, the ones where you feel sluggish all around, and the aspirations of the twenty years you'll see less and less feasible. He spoke of his innermost feelings with abandon, revealing its nature as a big child, shyness and uncontrolled reactions that often features the most authentic artists. Speaking of his reading, you realize that was an excuse to tell him, someone to confide his fears, doubts most intimate, all his conditioned life in the riots that feeling, to feel his torment and that in turn different faced with identical situations: almost trying to clarify himself certain moods and feelings of his own youthful fullness.
Despite all this, I thought that his great love for art, and a little humor to life were the lifeline for the troubled and restless nature. We greeted the dark.
I squeezed her hand, smiling, saying: "So when you come to Prato, play the bell." I immediately turned away. Walk towards the city. As I lit the lantern, I saw him get lost in the lights of the many bicycles that workers came from the factories. Even if, along the way, I reflected on some of his secrets, I was far from thinking that the cold night would be our last meeting and reminded of his lighter, which would close so soon after his tragically. young lives.

Quinto Martini (1986)

Portrait of a Young, 1930

Puppet Theatre, 1931

Still Life, 1930

La Rissa, 1932

Portrait, 1926

By Bruno Stepic

San Martino, July 4, 2009, San Procopio

P.S. Quinto Marini nasce a Seano, Firenze (oggi Prato), il 31 ottobre 1908 e muore nel suo paese il 9 novenbre 1990.

Checché possa aver scritto e detto successivamente, negli anni del suo presunto antifascismo se ne stava attaccato stretto stretto a Soffici, del quale "giustamente" beveva ogni cosa come oro colato... ma collaborava anche, nei modi grafici suggeriti da Soffici, con gradevoli xilografie al fascistissimo "Selvaggio" di Mino Maccari.

Big White Bump Inside Nose

A Tuscan artist

Il mulino, 1928

Today, 104 years from birth, to dedicate an entire page to Peter Bugiani, one of the most original and important artists of the twentieth century Tuscany, and beyond. Unfortunately, the reproductions of some of his paintings very beautiful, I suggest that visitors to the blog, are of poor quality.
Fu, Bugiani, a true poet of color, which, in a magical season (1924 to 1930 approximately), said "vibrate" as strong inspiration that came from the works of the fourteenth century. Later stays consistently high quality of his painting, characterized by an intense vision of the poetic nature and a strong personal emphasis, which Veno, but significantly, the language character Soft to tell adopted by the Tuscan landscape.
propose here a few lines of Gian Lorenzo Mellini, who presented the work to the exhibition " Modern Art in Italy, 1915-1935 ", Florence, Palazzo Strozzi, 1967. Mellini
writes: Peter
Bugiani begins with a style distinctly archeologizzante (tip of pencil drawings in a veiled tempera, 1924, with evocations of Andrea and Fra Bartolmeo Ca-tin), which clearly identifies by Achille Lega, pink, which shares a taste for the representation of the ru-cultural landscape of Tuscany and its arcane measures, such as the Soft, which had to be taken following the liquid pictorial, e infine dal movimento di «Strapaese» e del «Novecento», colle cui frange ebbe poi a collegarsi. Se­guendo codesta personale sorgiva ricerca, dietro lo stimolo soprattutto let­terario della pittura metafisica, nel senso della scelta del silenzio e della concentrazione, Bugiani dipinge intorno al 1928 una serie di immagini si­lenti di Paese, bloccati in ore antelucane come intagli di pietre dure, di una intensità alta e segreta, quasi montaliana, che lo pongono tra gli esponenti significativi della pittura in Toscana.

Natività, 1928

Sera, 1928

Sunday Afternoon, 1928

Sera farmyard, 1929

Sunset on the River, 1929

Stepic
Bruno San Martino, July 2, 2009, S. Urban

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climate "bipolar" I have nothing to say






are certainly an absolute majority of those who claim that bi-polarity is a major step forward from the "horse trading" that the proportional system generated. And maybe from this divine point of view may seem necessary to give them reason. But I do not think the issue is finally resolved once and for all. And 'in fact that of our national costume "in love", only to be confronted with sudden reversals and equally unreasonable. But love, you know, by its nature is blind and unreasonable.
me however, while not appreciating the point acrobatics and blackmail MPs from small parties operated in the so called First Republic, that we should critically analyze anche i difetti, molti ed evidenti, di questa pseudo panacea bipolare, a mio vedere una delle cause, forse anche la principale, dello stato di confusione e regressione culturale in cui versa la politica contemporanea nostrale e nell’insieme, in una sorta di perverso ping-pong, tutta la società di cui codesta è specchio e viceversa.
La questione “bipolare”, che si collega – decisamente – all’osservazione relativa alle “ideologie” (nell’ultimo post), mi pare meriti quindi una ulteriore riflessione. Ritengo infatti che – e mi permetto un esempio banale –, come per ciascuno di noi è necessario sapere dove si intende andare, allorquando si traggono gli abiti dall’armadio, also in the management of a State to adopt legislative measures and strategies of government, it would be (at least) to know what purpose it is intended to achieve. Unless it is the management of public affairs, a sort of agnostic and management of the existing deed merely indifferent to the real needs, to ligittime expectations, in short the destinies of millions of people. Well, maybe it's good that there is no longer the suggestion of the "models" ideological altogether unnatural, limiting and inadequate cages within which they claimed to imprison all reality, but it's not good that has fallen against the into nothingness, and that the citizens of this state fail needless to glimpse an idea, a project of their own future to believe in, to rest their hopes, for which justify their sacrifices or the realization that to get to work confidently with new vigor. An end, then, that in some way, like ideologies, although much milder, certainly less obtuse, schematic and unilateral induce men to overcome their narrow special interest in terms of something more noble and high.
That worries me more, that most disturbs my sense of civic and social, in fact, this excessive tendency towards division, fragmentation, individualism, and this unspoken but practiced daily thinking solo al proprio tornaconto, ad arraffare alla svelta quanto più possibile in un clima di qualunquistica indifferenza, in questa condizione da “o Franza o Spagna, basta che se magna”. Insomma, paradossalmente una situazione che pare proprio una conseguenza di quell’assetto politico bipolare che la frammentazione (quanto meno parlamentare) al contrario voleva ridurre. Insomma, mi sembra che si stiano acuendo i mali che scaturirono proprio, forse per reazione, dal “fervore” partecipativo degli anni ’70 ed ’80, che, a petto degli infiniti comitati, come risultato produsse addirittura l’indifferenza fra vicini di casa, o estrema conseguenza, l’eccessivo individualismo che denunciamo.
Così oggi che, per tutto, e addirittura nei partiti (i quali in quanto già “parte” dovrebbero accomunare al loro interno persone che intendono perseguire i medesimi obiettivi) è divisione e lotta, frammentazione personalistica, come accade in certi casi di naufragio, quando ciascuno cavate le scarpe annaspa sgomitando qua e là, incurante di altro che non sia la propria salvezza, che non sia il proprio interesse immediato (salvo rarissime eccezioni peraltro al solito confermative della regola).
E’ un fatto che nel sistema bipolare la parte centrale dell’elettorato, cosiddetta moderata (da noi in modo anomalo occupata tradizionalmente da elettori di ispirazione cattolica), sia determinante the formation of electoral majorities, it goes without saying then that the opposing sides, of necessity, more and more discolored their settings (up to lose any remaining ideological connotation, even up to plagiarized programs) to win the consent Of this small, yet crucial electoral area (which, moreover, being significantly marked by "ideology" religious, forces both sides to at least ambiguous attitudes on the floor of the secular state - but this is certainly yet another problem -). So is that the differences are no longer the point of substance. As with some ice cream, the same base is differently varied according to taste reviews. This ends up shifting the problem from the substance apparently, to the ephemeral pleasure of taste, or smell, or sight ... And the struggle is not aimed at creating a model, to achieve objectives or to a project, but the mere conquest of power management by opposing clans of the same caste. Just as among the families of the Neapolitan Camorra.
So that is how it happened in the last election, no one hears more about this or that content, but, having more or less acknowledged that the world that surrounds it relies primarily on "image", that all or almost is based on the image, that almost everything is virtual, insubstantial, ephemeral and away, the fight is focused almost exclusively on the demolition of the image of the opponent. So I think that as it may, however, under the eyes of all. A situation, a policy framework, un'offera that it seems almost cut off by a woodsman with an ax incapable. A situation of "rough" where the Democratic Party if you think too little of the sans-culottes in the pan seasoned finish on duty, or in a fruit salad of ravings about a world that no longer exists, and if you think on the contrary too moderate or not you taste the PDL Knight, you only rely on alternative Bossi to Borghezio a Calderoli. Salvo poi non optare per quel pierino-pretino-bravino che aspira a rifare la vecchia Dc, con tutti i danni che codesto comporterebbe. Ma purtroppo il troiaio bipolare, a codesto finirà per portare (dopo il congresso di settembre infatti, se il Franceschini sarà minoritario, la sua componente non avrà alternativa: o accettare tinte più accese finalizzate ad un “recupero” dell’elettorato assorbito dall’Idv, o tornare all’ovile assieme a Casini. Ma non divaghiamo.)
Ho più volte sostenuto, infatti, in questo blog, l’assurdità delle innaturali “ammucchiate” che hanno visto condensarsi forze da una parte e dall’altra che nulla hanno a che spartire come cultural and political heritage: Peppone and Don Camillo, or priests and eater, that is, other side: former MSI, former socialist, former Democrat, former radicals, a former Republican ... Of the uneatable "jam" whose main ingrediante, where - in a more "high" - not the power and the management of the caravan for the exclusive benefit of relatives, friends, friends of friends, husbands, lovers of the good and to keep busy ... - At the level of the electorate - is artfully instilled hatred toward the opponent, whose demolition seems to be the only true commitment of politicians, publishers, pennivendoli and "very intelligent" radical-chic da salotto buono. Laddove, come in tutti i momenti di crisi, occorrerebbe rinsaldare legami e coesioni interne e – so di apparire assai ingenuo –, remare tutti dalla medesima parte. Invece, come si è visto, perduta per strada ogni colorazione ideologica, ogni residua permeazione filosofica ed annullate progressivamente le differenze fra gli opposti schieramenti, in assenza di progetti politici chiari, differenti e ben riconoscibili, le diversità che permangono attengono poco più che la sfera dell’opinione. Anzi a farla da padrone nel più generale e nefasto disorientamento, sono il gossip e la maldicenza.
Si tratta purtroppo di ben più che segnali preoccupanti di un declino morale e civile che va "tingendo" ogni cosa; in una situazione così complessa, in un atmosfera così irrespirabile che anche le forze sane, che pure vi sono, risultano così annichilite a non essere capaci di coagularsi e spazzare via questa marmaglia di politicanti incapaci, di assoluti mascalzoni, meritevoli, come scrivevo qualche giorno fa, di essere presi soltanto a calci nel culo.

Bruno Stepic

San Martino, 30 giugno 2009, SS. Primi Martiri