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know why I beat the corazón? I've seen ...

In the beautiful film by Milos Forman Amadeus Emperor Joseph II, who has just witnessed the first of a Mozart opera, the comments with the famous words: 'too many notes. " The scene, as well as the historical anecdote that it is based, is a beautiful image that obtuse, regularly in history, is opposed to the genius and hinders it.
I have read and heard from many that the game Lavezzi (at least before it took off in the acrobatics of the last races, silencing even the most skeptical) game would be a fruitless, useless for the team: 'too much dribbling'.
Criticism is dangerous because, you know, the game of soccer Saturday the series A, the world is full of self-styled Maradona and the mother of those who must also discard the goalkeeper before rolling in the door is always pregnant. I love to
Pocho, I am sympathetic. And above all, for two reasons: The first reason is that he's a genius, the second reason is that he does not believe to be Maradona.
What is a genius, speaking from football, I think now out of question, and I am convinced that if the few do not play in the Italian league where the defenders, if they were not the defenders, the convicts would do (a bit 'as if they were not politicians politicians), but in a different league to probably today we would be hailed as the Messiah. But anyhow: for luck plays in Italy, and perhaps maybe even thanks to Napoli where he learned to ride so hard. I only say that to force defenses to play with them, sooner or later someone will break and would be a shame for everyone. Not only for fans from Naples. You have to run for cover: indeed there are players in the Italian league over-protected by the arbitrators for the same reason (and also with good reason) and you do not understand why the few who is currently the strongest of all, must seize all those barrels. And shut up.
The second reason is more difficult. I am always a bit 'impression when Auriemma says' As far as we remember that other Argentine', or when people, in the end, however, ruled that Maradona was Maradona. Now, I admit it - live - I never saw Maradona. But I saw Lavezzi, and it is enough. Whether positive or negative, the comparisons seem to me (though impossible to avoid) out of place. And the reason is that both of us, and Maradona Lavezzi, are geniuses. Their football is football art, football circus be without (and see that it is not easy). But, like all artists, each has his own style, and eventually, as in all aesthetic matters, is no longer a matter of skill, but of taste. Maradona is the
Mozart of football, but it certainly is not Lavezzi Salieri.

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The difference between Naples and Big? They are only alive, we are mainly dead.

One day I was fishing with my father and his old friend. We, the fishermen with a passion, he, for a living. It is said that there is no fisherman at all satisfied at the end of the day. And when it is or is not a fisherman or is lying.
M that day there was little to lie: our boat was full of fish. Angling in tow and spent fifteen minutes without pulling two to three Pompano star, but also longlines and curls, even took two corners.
I did not even ten years, and I never threw up so much stuff. I was happy, and certainly at the end of the day I debunked the myth of the fisherman unfulfilled.
But at some point I pulled up a mackerel. Mackerel fish are snubbed because they have the cheek meat of sharks, just tasty.
Then once you're determined not to throw it in the bucket in the middle of the sea bass, a bucket full of seawater where the fish dying can die easily in the reconstruction of their habitat. A sort of "honor the defeated" is right where you were born to die, or at least in its reproduction, especially if instead of a lunch I love you pointed gaping throat.
only that it was a mackerel and I decided to throw in the boat and see ground gasping, gave him no weight, I started a bit too 'out laughing because it crawled like a snake into the bucket, smelt the last remnants of the sea, but he was a mackerel and a bass, I did not think right in the bucket.
I made a kind of punishment, and contemptuous, while I was already thrown back the line to the sea, while I thought the bass, the friend of my father took mackerel and threw it into the bucket in the middle of the bass. He looked at me he contemptuously and said: "It is not that why you're alive, 'better' and iss'," indicating mackerel.
After I did not catch anything, and arrived in the evening I was not satisfied.
Today when Lavezzi 85th minute of play put the turbo and has discarded two defenders at midfield when the game ends continued to rage on a "plagued Sampdoria," which climbed to his T-shirt stop it, they hung him to tear it down, it seemed the few under four goals, he mackerel, their sea bass, their fishermen.
Inter loses 2 to 0 at the end the first time and then reverses the result is a team alive. AC Milan loses a man remains in 10 marks and a minute later and wins: this is a team alive. Lazio is alive because even though players to pieces wins with its unique two actions, the Rome is because it allows for almost no class on the bench in the middle of the field.
Napoli is alive because it is in second place with a list of 15/16 players. But it is especially dead look in his eyes because the opponents to the end, it is clear how he would like to be treated, it becomes clear who died, fighting to the end with dignity, as if there were no difference between being alive with four goals waste and died without Cassano and Pazzini.
Napoli does not expect the opponent and does not close in defense, has a game, his game, and that makes. You do not save because the game of football do not.
Napoli fishing until the end because in the sea this is done.
So if today's match had been endless, at this time would still be doing the Napoli goal.

PS One last thing about the differences: after the elimination from the cup Reja Italy, Lazio's coach, said: sorry, but we were wrong the second time; Del Blacks, coach of Juventus has said sorry, but with the infirmary as the full Our ... Di Carlo, Sampdoria coach, said: sorry, but our new strikers have yet to acclimate. Cavani of Naples, said sorry, and we have blood in my eyes!

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The referee whistles the beginning ...

... start the game!

With the presumption that you have many readers think it is right to introduce, not everyone may know already, and then who are we?!? We are a trio quite heterogeneous, consisting of a normal, a writer and a future dentist, united by a friendship of years old and a huge passion for football in general and for Naples in particular, and it is from this great love that the idea to open this blog to have a space where we can comment and tell us all that is the SSC Napoli, Naples in words exactly.

Living far away from each other, we felt the need for this common space, and we are committed to filling it with content that they know to be enjoyable and challenging at the same time, we want to do here just not a bad copy of other blogs or newspapers, here put our opinions, our ideas, our bad mood (we're fans, that is, from the ancient greek typhos fever, so we are sick and a patient often complains about) our proposals.

We are also a little crazy, because we are convinced that the leadership of Naples can not ignore our blog, that we are not amateurs, we are in sympathy with the Naples (in this case we refer to the ancient greek, by sumpathein, that share the pathos, the suffering of others) that we suffer with (and) the Naples and then the leadership will contact us and sooner or later will pay off somehow this our empathy with the team.

Follow us, we will excite you, this is basically just the kick-off and we all know that " game ends when the referee whistles ...

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pssssssssss I say softly because you never know, until the plane takes off, the departure is not certain, but I learned that Sara is planning five weeks in Myanmar (formerly Burma) and Cambodia with the usual Gaston. Bring his laptop to take notes and download images, but it will certainly the time to write posts and then is also uncertain access to the Internet. What a surprise, her blog will remain inactive for quite a while, a precious opportunity to enjoy the silence. Upon his return, every man for himself, probably will be a frenzy of words and pictures to view the schedule globetrotters of two girls, but in the meantime we can make a nice refreshing sleep.

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Let's Paint

If anyone was wondering:

But how far has pushed the Australian art?

Or

To what extent Aboriginal art has evolved?

Answering this question is quite simple!

In a country where the whole "technology", the art of building in the western genre and the knowledge has been introduced only in the last 200 years, the way of making art has suffered a blow that has not been able to come to a complete perfection in the world of Greek, Roman, but also Maya, Chinese, and so on and so forth.

in this land far what we have been able to develop, unfortunately, has created a spike in "Evolution "Only in recent decades, or rather, since" someone "has decided that after the barbarism meted out to Aborigines their own destiny could have become the "private use" as servants in the sale of works of art.

Nothing to say to certain works of art that are still an interesting cultural value, and deeper meanings taken from culture of the native Australians. But more generally, if we carefully consider what has become the Aboriginal art industry, we have a little fear in expressing reviews and critical appreciation, perhaps it is something that would rhyme always ending with ..... . chin.

ValAndante however, was fascinated by some bright colors and technique to "dots or lines" of some of the paintings seen in many Galleries that he visited, , wanted to produce a painting, coming not too bad, but the deep inner meaning.

It started as a joke, in tantativo to own an original work or simply tied Aboriginal Australia, but considering the prices we decided to inaccessible ; producing it to decorate our home.

On the edge of the canvas, a continuous text describes the form of poetry:

The Blue Storm

that awakens us from the dream.

Cobalt whirlwind of emotions

bathes the golden beaches

of our thoughts.

sand island

recall our dreams

to what we were yesterday, turning the Horizon

of distant lands

undulating profile

of an important

perfect combination

a feeling Unison

called LOVE.

MMXI January 8 - ValAndante

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confidential message to our "old" Eppie

Journey return is not exactly the same: it comes to the world screaming and crying, a lot of noise, we start rather quietly in a cool wooden crate. My Queen Mother is gone in January 2009. Maybe he opened the series, I have not done that attend funerals of mothers and fathers of dear friends around me. Our "old", and I use that word with the greatest tenderness, it should be mostly in winter, when it gets too cold in summer, when it gets too hot. They all have very venerable age, from 85 upwards, many had passed the 90 abundantly, but a parent who is no longer leaves a vacuum of unfathomable quality, at whatever age you feel suddenly orphaned and alone in the world. And 's true that medicine has made great strides and the quality of care as well, but I believe that parents of my generation had made a special paste, as we do not do not even dream of. This is why they worked so hard to live, but many of them to die, interminable disease, heart that does not seem to want and then give up despite the term "valley of tears", he does not want to leave anyone, let alone them, even if they have lived for almost a century of seeing sorts of things. Has been the war, or rather two world wars and the terrible 900, have been the difficulties in a world of postwar reconstruction, has been the energy that emanates dall'impellenza children to give us certainty and ease of which they had not enjoyed, but that courage, determination and grit that have had our parents! I always feel a great embarrassment in formal extend condolences, but the face of their loss, I never know to find the words that make sense, maybe there are none.

Everyone is just the heart of the earth

, pierced by a ray of sunshine:

and it is now evening . ( Salvatore Quasimodo )

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auar the shadow of the Madonna

How not to fly very Museum of the twentieth century, an ambitious transformation of dell'Arengario Palace, recently opened in Milan, for the moment with free admission and almost empty at lunchtime ? It should perhaps be the new flagship of the capital of fashion and design? Frankly, the impression is made of light, shadow and many doubts, but I try to explain. Rich and beautiful content, works in abundance, the 900 Italian articulated this in his artistic variety and chronological, a collection of works by highly respected and strength, the reserves have been depleted other museums and the civic collections. Teaching initial food for thought in the first room of the Jucker collection, the works of Picasso, Braque, Modigliani, Mondrian, Kandinsky, Matisse, the precursors international giants of the various avant-gardes that have enlivened the scene of the century just finished revolutionizing consolidated fees aesthetic of the past. And then there's strength in "our ".... Pelizza Volpedo with his fourth of the state, very politically correct choice that opens the exhibition Italian and immediately follow the extraordinary futurism with all its stars, Boccioni, Balla, Carrà, Marinetti, Severini (photo), Ropes, Depero (photo), Sironi, Soft (Photo).

followed by eight salt monographs protagonists Boccioni, Morandi, Martini, De Chirico, Melotti, Fontana, Piero Manzoni, Marino Marini (a corridor in one of his great horse and rider that certainly could not miss), followed by 50 years with a room dedicated to Alberto Burri and other great masters such as informal Vedova, Capogrossi , Novelli, Tancredi. The last section focuses on the years 60 with representatives of Italian Pop Art (I have not seen anything of my beloved exposed Enrico Baj, but in the presentation texts speak of the nuclear movement founded by him and you certainly can not explain all the works simultaneously) to conclude with the Arte Povera . The centerpiece of the exhibition is stunning and Lucio Fontana with Neon and spatial concepts of '51 and '56 from the ceiling of the Gulf of Procchio Hotel Elba who triumph in the hall of the Torre dell ' Arengario. In this room the enjoyment of beauty comes from many sources: from the works of course, but also from large areas and their unique position, in front of the Cathedral and its square, interior and external complement each other and magically light through huge windows.

And now we come to the painful notes. I state my incompetence, I am neither an expert nor architect, but in museums around the world I have seen many. I found it very disappointing the distribution of certain architectural spaces certainly influenced by the structure of the place, the museum layout that seemed outdated and provincial harmony with its broken columns, with rows of pictures on without interruption and there is nothing that interrupt the monotony exhibition, with panels of wall coverings shades off and Fane, badly lit and the pictures offended by bad light on the ceiling that looked like they wanted to be the protagonists, sofas and armchairs in a house of prestige, but that are old and dirty and worn velveteen already covering them. Source of great perplexity and the choice of finishes and materials, the walls plastered in white just as well have already soiled floors that show all traces of the transition, it seems certain that the museum has limited two months of life.

Beautiful

instead surrounded by a spiral glass spiral ramp that winds to the upper floors and reminiscent of the Guggenheim. "When" and "if" the many windows will be cleaned outside of the views will be even more appealing. In addition to the Museum of the twentieth century, leaving the friends they make me discover the Old Dairy Vegetarian. It 's a small and tiny little place in Union street, but the pies are delicious vegetables and then, good to know, Tuesday and Thursday with music Laiv Eppie AUAR.

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DUGONGOS We Got!

Dear Friends,

thanks to YOU, you begin to follow us in this adventure.

Eventually we managed after many sacrifices to buy our first Australian car, and if we More specifically, a piece of Australian history considering the year in which it was produced, and the year which modern civilization is facing in this continent.

is a Holden Commodore, 1996, with automatic change-over and a green lawn. "

Dugongos is a beautiful wagon in its length, aggiara around 5 meters, contains within it a sophisticated supply of all what we need for camping, tents, sleeping bags, stoves, dishes etc ...

Just for the record is to give a little utility to this blog describe those who were the most important steps to 'the purchase of a' car used in Australia " :

• find the car on the market, or on Gumtree,
• contact the seller to fix the appointment
• (Daytime, known sites) please, check
• the drive from the technical point of view and visual and physical touch ... (wheel brakes, engine etc);
• checking documents and the story that has been in the past (repairs replacements etc);
• agree to the price only if you ; convinced;
• to buy it you must go to ' RTA see here: http://www.rta.nsw.gov.au/ :
• bring the monetary amount agreed for the seller ;
• bring with him a "written document" by the seller and buyer with the data of both, ; disqualified from both the machine and the machine data with the agreed price.
• bring license (international or translation);
• statement of your credit card or bank at least 6 months to show the address,
• RTA Complete the form that you will find in RTA;
• take the ticket, and wait whereas sn call you .... very fast, and then fill out the form before you take the ticket, pay your
• "change of ownership" which is equivalent to 3% of the value of the car;
• delivered everything to the counter and wait for the payment of property transfer;

• From now on you got yuor car in Australia, congratulation!

nn But it all ends here, now you need to ensure against damage to the car (you driving in the opposite direction) and passengers (Australians to drive a little cabbage).

So you have to pay the Green Slip , and the Third Party Property Demag find sites sites RTA or Australian Government all that concerns the insurance or not, but insurance is convenient!

TIPS: bold all you have to have to buy the car.

I hope someone can benefit from my help, as it helped us Faith & Paul's help, our two famous friends who have sold their cars and gave all their know About this simple and trivial task, which often turns into a hell ...

Valandante continues his experience with the new entry DUGONGOS .... a greeting and the next

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'na tazzulella' and the cafe

Albert Einstein argued that culture is what remains after one has forgotten everything he learned at school. Paraphrasing arbitrarily I thought that love, if any, is what remains after ". After the thrill desire dream anger resentment fatigue habit indifference silence nostalgia. Apparently it is a negligible amount, but focused and authentic, like the foam of superb coffee that barely fills the bottom of the cups in the south. Black nectar of fragrant "'na tazzulella' and cafes."

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Getting Started ...? Good

Dear Friends,
is now available on our little diary of life. A project based on everyday life, but also on (at least for us) looking for an exciting future full of ideas and adventure, and Happiness , Friendship, Work, and in particular involvement in the fight for the small and large battles of every day.
We hope that this blog wrote to "4 hands", and we can give to you a space for reflection, for better appreciate the helpful planet that is hosting us and to learn to tolerate even more of our "damned" Civilizations that mismanaged its immense wealth.
few lines, even stunted hope for a good 2011, but also to try to post about this new tool for us.

an affectionate greeting ValAndAnte Wayfarer "(Valerie and Andrea)

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"Nanas" by Niki in Mamac Nice

In the Maghreb countries "nana" is the mint tea, but in the French family stands for women, girls and oral communication is widely used. I find it very beautiful word: the words will be faster, it will be the musicality of the repeated syllable with the accent on the last vowel, but is happy and funny just like Nanas of Niki de Saint Phalle , French-American artist , eclectic and cosmopolitan city, which has been called everything and its opposite. . Al Mamac , the Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art in Nice , Niki, just before dying, he offered 170 works including paintings, sculptures, lithographs, prints, other documents and of course his "girls", these women of the female giant, the subject of choice of the artist, sprung up like magic from its a dream world.

I spoke of magic and the dream world, positive values \u200b\u200bthat do not correspond to reality Instead of dramatic interior inhabited by horrible ghosts "I wrote this book primarily for myself, trying to finally rid myself of this drama that played a role in determining if my life. I am a survivor of death, I needed let the little girl in me talking at last. My text is the desperate cry of the girl " . A survivor of the death, una sopravvissuta went dead if definisce Niki de Saint Phalle nel suo libro scritto a mano e autobiografico "My Secret" del '94. It terribile suo segreto è del incesto padre di 11 anni all'età. The orribile violenza dei segni lascia, segni di ciò che non è più, ma la absence of which is carved into existence. Already speaking, writing is an act of transgression, because violence is secret-appoint an unclean thing is giving it new life, his rise from the deepest recesses as you would like to bury it, forget it. Niki de Sain Phalle say the unspeakable, its index, through art, a vital tool to exorcise morte.Dapprima the psychiatric hospital in Nice, tranquilizers and barbiturates, in her handbag always on hand a pair of scissors, a knife, her Nanas are pale at the beginning, made of cloth and rags, to look good up close are a pile of shards of broken dolls, sewn or glued limbs disjointed here and there, tubes Painting, combs, a tragic and broken world, the contrast between appearance and certain attributes, breasts sometimes seem of machine guns. Then the life instinct takes over and the Nanas offer all their exuberant femininity, become sumptuous Venus bright, bright colors, a revolution of that playful little girl who wants to dream again.

I would love to go to Tuscany, Garavicchio, a fraction of Capalbio: is the Tarot Garden by Niki de Saint Phalle , created on land provided by the family of the artist Caracciolo. Would find his creations inspired by the shapes of the Major Arcana of the Tarot, monumental works and sometimes living space, a mixture of sculpture, painting and architecture, who knows maybe refuge and strength in a world "other."

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Spirit Continue


happens.
And I often return to the scene or after blatantly contradict statements made with clear, rational uninformed and ridiculous.
This blog does not reopen its doors.
This blogger has no nostalgia for the post "cryptic" or "Delirium of Disorder."
This space is not (re) created to fill the gaps, but to make room for an appendix that would be a shame if it remained unspoken.
And to think well, the premises and promises are the same ones that took me almost five years ago to create this space and just over 3 years ago to close it. Naive
dreamer, passionate about physics, music-loving punk-HC (but not only), devoted to the theory of chaos, anarchy.
The substance is the same, almost the shape.
At a time when more and more often you delegate to shitty social network instant messages condense into a mood or a thought, a blog to update what is or follow from real amateurs. It 's like going to hear a punk concert at csa embankments rather than to any ligabue san siro: you know who will start late, audio hiss of bad and many pieces will be crippled. However, between the pogo soudore The atmosphere is different from air-conditioned room dandy of the quadrangle. And 'the smell of the authentic spontaneity that only those who love freedom can grasp and appreciate.
I am reminded of that scene masterpiece of movie is Once Upon a Time in America where Noodle occurs after 30 to NY and says, "I went to bed early", when asked what he had done all that time of absence.
I will not compare, do not summarize the last two and a half years, I can not justify nor give explanations: who knows me knows and understands.
E 'spirit that continues and who wants to trace. Simply
.

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please, let the tears!

Corriere della Sera on Saturday the 8th January I read an article by Maria Luisa Agnese I was very upset. The journalist relata of a study published in the journal Science by a group of Israeli researchers at the Weizmann Institute. Subject of research: the dynamics of human tears, starting from those of women because they known there are many more out there. Porco world, we can not even cry in peace! The tears were observed, scrutinized, analyzed, studied, vivisection, it turned out that throwing garbage in thousands of emotions, emotions, joys, dreams and disappointments, the whole sphere of feeling the full force end to the winds, in communication between male and female tear would be nothing but a clear sexual signal of waste, its chemical code information which is not the time to know bibbliche, discuss this issue again later, the male sniffs and his testosterone levels are lowered. That's it? Help! And I all my tears, where past, present and future I put them? Heart in turmoil, torments, quakes and tremors throughout the body, bursts of water in buckets, silent drops that moisten the face, red eyes, all this fuss just for internal and external communication that is not the time to fuck? No, sorry, I will remain ignorant obsolete sentimental, but I'm not that science face a blizzard, which also investigated in the deepest recesses of the body, the psyche of the mineral, animal, vegetable, sidereal , which studies everything he wants, but my tears no, those do not touch each other and to hell with the scientific journals.

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Antibes and Picasso

Cold Sunday, day to Antibes: you wandering the streets of the old town, a trip to the market is always open between the usual crafts and regional food products, a stop corner bistro to the Fontaine des Delices for a hot coffee and go for a walk on the ramparts of the citadel. Wonderful views of the sea, port, and not smaller as harvest time, a few years ago have so-called Extended from the Quai des Milliardaires for super cruisers such as the Queen Elizabeth or the Saudi billionaire Nabila Kashoggi. Other than fishing port.

Along the street is a prestigious antique and art gallery Gismondi, with the giant snails blue recycled plastic rotationally molded of Cracking Art Group, artists who want to play with the city proposing works and installations break with the traditional urban image. A few meters before, perched on the sea the great workshop of the painter Nicolas de Stael , Russian aristocrats and loins. In '55 he committed suicide at age of 41 by jumping from the window of his study this.

Austere and majestic stands the Grimaldi Castle , that the current Picasso Museum. Founded on the ancient acropolis of the Greek city of Antipolis, inhabited until the seventeenth century by the Grimaldi family who gave the name, then town hall, barracks, and finally bought in '25 from the city of Antibes that a museum. Picasso Art '900 giant and not only regular visitor to the Riviera, is enthusiastic about this place, it decorates some walls and I realized many works. In '46 with his companion Françoise Gilot era makes his studio, occupying a part. Since 1966, the Grimaldi Castle officially became the Picasso Museum, the first devoted to the artist, then follow those of Barcelona and Paris. The museum collection has been created over time thanks to the gifts of exceptional artists who have exhibited (eg, De Stael and Hartung, Picasso himself will offer 23 paintings and 44 drawings and a lot of pottery made in nearby Vallauris atelier Madoura, Jacqueline Picasso will further enrich the collection with other works) and the progressive acquisition of the city of Antibes.

The museum has been masterfully restored in recent years and the new conservative is organizing exhibitions and cultural events of high level, stealing the scepter to the Maeght Foundation in Saint Paul de Vence.

Forbidden unfortunately photographing the works inside, are right on the sly to make a success for separate dishes incredibly occupying an entire wall.

extraordinary view from the window on the second floor, as well as the terrace of La Vierge Folle of '46 sculptures by Germaine Richier, Miró a Goddess of the Sea of \u200b\u200b1968.

'A' douze ans comme je savais Dessiner Raphael, corn j'ai eu besoin de toute une routes pour apprendre à peindre comme un enfant "says Picasso (photographed here with Françoise Gilot in a historic photo of Robert Capa). Ninety years played furiously painted yet in full production and erotic (fine in this regard the exhibition "The Secret Collection" a few years ago in Milan, the Fondazione Trussardi). Without taking anything away from this great artistic genius, I still think in terms of creativity and beauty first place always it is up to Mother Nature.