“When I reached the top, I stepped into a space that wasn’t a room at all. The walls were gone, replaced by vast panes of glass that reached into the void. Above me, the stars blazed in impossible clarity, closer than I’d ever felt. ” The three-story house
The Observatory
The music that lives here doesn’t fill the silence — it opens it. This is the sound of the Attic: something rising, something not yet named.
Van Gogh didn’t paint the night sky. He painted what he felt when he looked at it. The Attic is that same impulse — to reach beyond what the eye sees, toward what the soul already knows.
These are the stories born here — in the space between dream and word, between wonder and understanding. Each one is a window. Each one opens onto something larger than itself.
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We Need Words That Save Us
We live in a time that needs poetry.But, in truth, every time has needed poetry. We need words that pull us out of time, so we can understand — and then love — our own time.Words that ignite the kind of emotion capable of saving our modern days.Words that open the way to the elements…
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Where passions sway
In the hushed folds of twilight’s embraceWithin, a chill, the heart abides.Retrace the steps, back to your core,Return to originsemotions untoldWhere sentiments and passions pour.The genesis of a soul, manifold.Seeking radiance in depths profound,A flame to thaw, in roots unwound.A beacon’s glow, a tender grace,To salvage life in love’s embrace.The smile, forgotten, echoes deep,A map…
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III
MediterraneanAncient Sea,From how many shores have I admired you!With how many eyes have I loved you!Today, you are an infinityof frightened intimacy,a black seaof pleading arms and eyes.At every landing,you promise us a new journey,a paradise of white beaches,another happy islandvanished from the nautical charts,a humanity healedfor us, children of unfortunate homelands. Translation from Crescenzi,…
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Clarastrasse 10
Unaware of the storyI cross the glass door Of a quiet Saturday afternoon, When you take my hands And guide me to the library of Babel.In the hexagonal roomA Horezu plate restsOn a Persian carpet,A Venetian maskWatches over the bookshelf.We gather around the table,And time stands still,As the brewery’s hum outsideMelts into a dreamOf Indian…
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Sperlonga
When things went really bad, Giancarlo would return to Sperlonga for a few days.It was his way of reconnecting with his inner self. His spirit, both romantic and melancholic, came alive in contact with those places that evoked what he loved to call “strong reminiscences.” He always followed the same path on foot. It was…
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Cracks of beauty
Forget your perfect offeringThere is a crack, a crack in everythingThat’s how the light gets in“Anthem” by Leonard Cohen, The Future It took me some time to truly grasp the concept of vulnerability and recognize its importance. Brené Brown’s 2010 TEDx talk, “The Power of Vulnerability,” one of the most viewed TED talks, demonstrates how…
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IX
When you arrivedin your suitcase you carriedyour father’s tearsand your mother’s embrace.Sweet hopes,innocent dreams;summer sunsetsand autumn rains.Winter surprised you,you gazed confused at the skywhile immense shipsabandoned the portof your heart.”At night I discoveredmen and womendream alone,chasing a reasonto start over.”And now your soulseeks the caresses of the windawaits the end of timeto live. Translation from…
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For the first time
She walked away from the blue chamber,on the floor, delicate petals danced upon sharp stones. Quickly she reached the door, into the darkness embrace.In her hands, she held a promise,within an empty candy box’s hollow,and a ticket, her gateway to a summer’s spell.Determination through her veins,amidst a symphony of hushed whispers,passions ignited, a whirlwind of…
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Epiphanies that linger with us forever.
We are a living tapestry, intricately woven from special moments and encounters, each one imprinting colors, textures, and sensations that define our identities and guide our thoughts. Their significance does not rest in their grandeur or extravagance but in the emotions they awaken and the transformations they inspire within us. Often, it is the smallest…
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The three-story house
I had been driving all day, chasing the horizon. The road was endless, a ribbon of asphalt twisting through a landscape that felt suspended in time. The trees leaned in close, their branches clawing at the grey sky. My car stuttered once, twice, then gave up entirely. I stepped out. The world was still. An…