Archive for the ‘Krimskrams’ Category

Different sizes different weights…different effect ūüôā

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Sissi is exhausted because her gigantic and extremely strong enemy drained all her forces: the carrot, still on the floor gave her a hard time!

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‚ÄúHowever bad life may seem, there is always something you can do, and succeed at.¬†While there’s life, there is hope.‚ÄĚ

(Stephen Hawking)


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Poor Banausen!

Over the years, I have heard and read the word ¬†“Kulturbanause” ¬†in German ¬†when referring to uncouth people who ignore culture, and I have not even spent a thought about the fact that this word could not be German…it would have been enough to throw a glance into a dictionary, but thinking of it is a German word, why should I ?

Giò Pomodoro

Giò Pomodoro

And then it happened last month, diving into to this little fascinating and endless world of etymologies, which I love so much ūüôā

Reading about the historical development¬†of Artists I found out that their role and status in the Ancient Era was considered as a manual work – because they made their bread with the use and the work of their hands, they got their hands dirty. They were considered banausoi, a greek word which describes the class of manual labour workers – ( and here I add poor Manual Workers, poor Banausen!) i.e.lower class workers. Only a few exceptions like¬†the sculptor Phidias, or the painter Apelles were well considered in high society. This went on¬†until the¬†Renaissance – when their social status started¬†changing because they were considered creative and intellectual. Even though the colours might drop in their eyes… Imagine how my thoughts flew¬†reading banausoi… it was too similar to the German Banause –



revealing little by little its meaning and its origin that comes from “furnace”, ¬†“the one working in front of the furnace”. Isn’t amazing how much story is hidden in a apparently simple word?

Thanks to Maurizio I had learned another etymology: what on earth has goat to do with theatre stage in Ostia Antica? The theatre plays, the tragedies were antique ceremonies to honour the God Dionysos, with the offer of the sacred animal goat (tragos)  and songs (ode), which step by step developed into their own play, without any offers to any gods at all. Like the games in the Colosseum, the gladiator games, which started as offers during funerals, called munera, and ended up by being stand-alones as entertainment by themselves.

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Young Raphael

It is a joyful thought to see this exception that confirm the rule. The stereotype of an artist is weird, depressed, anxious, if not schizophrenic. His¬†creation is¬†the ‘relief valve’ of his malaise which brings to light his talent and genius.

What about Raphael? I am browsing through pages and pages that describe his life and his character but I can’t find the typical tortured mind and soul of an artist. I perceive a happy life. Short but happy.

A sublime image of beauty throughout his works. Smart flattering towards his employer, talent-scouting his own workshop, layers of interpretation in one work.

Raphael in the Vatican 

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IMG_1027BOne of my concept’s has always been that you can’t give things for granted. Nowadays and over the last few months I am¬†reviewing this concept¬†and getting aware that I can’t give anything for granted. Anything at all.

It starts with a quite banal thought, being asked apparently stupid questions to which you don’t have the answer because these questions are everything but stupid. Are they just unexpected, because I thought nobody would ask a question like this? Then it goes ahead with contemplating about the unpredictability of life. For better or for worse. Unpredictable events happen every day, but some of them leave a sign, a smile, a scar. ¬†Some of them put your life upside down and your feelings, your thoughts, your perspective, your priorities change.

You are convinced that¬†you can¬†handle¬†your life and its events, but then it is the same life that thwarts your plans to show you that there is nothing to control, but life is part of nature and can’t be commanded. You can’t control your soul. You can’t decide if you are happy or sad, you just ARE.

You reflect about what is important in life, when at the end you find out so often, that the only important thing is life itself with its who’s not its what’s.¬†Could be me? It is Mama :-)

And nonetheless even life can’t be given for granted.

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Memories of Joe

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