nan-goldinFinding ribisel in the freezer makes for a happy morning.
I like to have time in the morning. I need to take time, do other things, not be just efficient, have time to appreciate. Of course it depends a lot on when I go to bed and how tired I am, but I’ll try to wake up a lot earlier than when I have to leave.
I love sleeping, and it’s important now that I can indulge in it, but it’s been taking way too much space lately.
I want to try to suck the essence of mornings.

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It’s a strange thing to live in the same place as him, after all this time of longing and travelling.
We are still leaving a lot, so it doesn’t feel like a huge difference, but we have a glimpse of what life together in the same city could be. It’s nice to meet him for lunch in the city in between our own normal errands, I really liked it. And it is indeed different to both have home here, so nobody is a guest or lives on a suitcase. I’m really curious about it. I don’t know how to do this.
Things are still very unclear. Sometimes unbelievably lovely and sometimes painful. He feels sad. I feel desperate. I don’t know what to do, but as I said, I will not try to define. Just live it all, bit by bit.

Sometimes I dream that he’s cocky and rude with me. I really can’t stand having those dreams, so mean so rude so unbelievably painful. He’s not like this, even when he happens to hurt me he’s not like this, but in my dreams it’s so strong and real! In the dream this makes me become extremely violent: I scream, I destroy, I push, I toss things. Confrontation.
In real life I just wake up sad and sweaty, not really knowing what to do with this dream of mine and wishing he was there with me in bed to cuddle and know that it really was just a dream.


instead I felt relief, overwhelming relief at being taken care of.nan_goldin_valerie_and_gotscho_embracing_paris_1999_d5662494g


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solo forest

While working in germany I was in a shared flat in a room of someone who is 40 years old. It’s my nightmare to be 40 and still live in a shared flat.
I liked sharing flats and I still think that it could be something very nice, but lately the concept of “my own home” became so important. Maybe it’s also connected to building a family and the fear of being 40 and alone, instead.
Then I think “who am I to afford to live in my own house if there are people who are older and maybe with a more real job than me who still share flats?” Then I feel spoiled and guilty. Because I always have to judge myself and compare with the others.
Hey then I think of me and my own wishes and needs and I think that everyone is different and that it would be stupid to not live fully, to feel that I’m postponing my life, compromising my needs, waiting for the time to come when I’ll be able to live as I want.
I need to live now.
And this is how I need to live now, whatever people think and whatever the effect is, as long as I can do it.

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dance with me


A recent experience while performing made me thing of the role of audiences in performances. Maybe we performers should be athletes of emotions and be able to produce and reproduce certain states and emotions independently from the reactions of the audience. This is what they say.
But since performing arts are live arts, they happen anew everytime, why not being in the here and now? Why not including the conditions of the moment in the final product that is the performance?
So maybe the audience could be considered another performer?

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Lately I often had to introduce myself and answer the “where are you from?” question. Just saying that I’m italian wouldn’t be a complete answer. I don’t feel so italian.
I had to say I’m from italy, but I lived long in austria, now I live in sweden but at the moment I was working in germany. Then I really realized how my identity is spread and fragmentary and I don’t feel that I belong anywhere. I actually don’t know the feeling of “belonging”. I am made of all the little pieces that crossed my way.
Even though, I must say, I would like to find back some of my roots, to figure out what stays in me of italy and mediterreanity, and what the good things are that I would like to share. Need to find a way to value my homeland and find a connection with it.


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festung der einsamkeit

I need to work inside me on a way to deal with this unstable unstable life.
I felt a bit lonely. All this traveling and working away from home makes me lonely. It’s true that I work with people and it’s true that most of the times I feel blessed to have a life that makes me travel to lots of different places and meet new people. But if I actually see how things are in this nomad life of mine, it is a lonely life. There I went from home to work and back on repeat, in a city that is not mine, where I don’t know anyone.
I liked the work, but I really longed for going back to my little house in my new city. For going back home!
Time is so slow but it passes so quickly.
And I started wondering if I will ever work in the city where I live, going back home in the evening to him and hug and chat and tell each other about our days. Do I miss a “normal life”? Is it even possible in the dance world?

Sometimes I took an unnecessary detour after rehearsals, I guess trying to escape from life.

I have to understand my relation to solitude.Schermata 2017-10-27 alle 23.03.39 I’m afraid of being lonely, I often feel very bad when I’m alone too much and I need to meet and talk to other people; but I also really need to be alone, to have my space and time for myself far from others, after a day of work for example. I love being with friends but I don’t like big groups (especially when traveling), I don’t enjoy them.





Maybe it’s all in my head, maybe I think I understand him but I actually don’t. Maybe I don’t know anything. Maybe I don’t understand anything. Maybe I don’t know anything of what I know.



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I’ve been missing from here for a while. Lots of life to live and barely the time to sleep.
mt’s adventures in the north, I guess.

So much has been going on, regarding work, my relationship, my new home, I hardly can follow. But, as a friend told me, we should not always define things; some things should just be lived, following the flow, they are phases of something bigger and more complex.
I’m in sweden now. My sweden. I still can’t believe that, I still haven’t realized….like…yeah…I live here!…fuck…it really happened…I moved to fucking sweden! There’s no space for doubts now, I’m here and I managed to move here all by myself. I’m proud of what I can do when I play the superhero.
I really like my little house. Sometimes I still feel stressed and guilty because it’s a bit far and pricey, but it’s a beautiful place, it gives me joy and does so much for my wellbeing. The view from my bedroom window over the backyard and the apple trees, the birds singing in the morning, my tiny garden, they all make me feel so good.
Deer regularly visit me. It’s a sign. I feel welcomed.

Shortly after I moved I had to leave again. My exhausting messy life. The night before leaving we slept nicely but so little. Then I got up and it was dark and he was sleeping soft and round on my bed, and was moon-coloured, and I left him but I wished I could stay; I left him in my home and went away.
Off to night buses that didn’t come and long waiting in a cold bus stop in the middle of nowhere and rushing at the airport. All with a desperate need to sleep. More traveling. Yet another country for a while and a new job.

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