Wed, September 24 2014 » Fashion Blog
It’s late spring and the symphony of colors and smells is almost blinding.
The sun dazzles, lilac, bounganville, prickly pears, acacia, broom, sunflowers, lemons, a bunch of lavender and roses that release hundreds of scents.
A mesh of sun lying on the walls of houses, ecru of small beaches of sand and pebbles, gray of rocks, brown of mountains and shrubs, transparencies and sea crystals.
Here are the coasts of home again, the familiar coasts.
Sunshine and nuances agree with the clothes that Marguerite has brought with her from the long journey through the mare nostrum.
It was pleasant to stay for a while in a country with a mysterious grace and charm. Twines of traditions and layers of cultures.
The blue houses and the pink roof tiles and the walks in the early hours of the evening in the Moorish gardens, fountains and streets where a slow melody flows interrupted only by the sound of the minarets, all this remain etched in the memory.
She wears klein blue dresses with the stripes of his friend painter and the fauve flowers, cadmium yellow, milk white, multitudes of fields in flower, watercolored flowers and ferns magnified on white fields.
Marguerite is back home.
Immersed again in her familiar vegetation.
The green of her Mediterranean garden is luxuriant, intricate, variegated, invaded by the sound of the piano and, above all, populated by her loved white doves, life mates and guardians of secrets.
Special thanks to Floriana Di Carlo Photographer
Mon, October 7 2013 » Fashion Blog
The winter sea
Always the sea, free man, you will always love / as the sea is your mirror …
when it is not just a colorful frame for new adventures and lit nightclubs full of lies;
when his voice is not covered by banal music and shouts of agitated crowds;
when it is a fascinating film in black and white … and under the mistral / it screams and pales …
Wild waves chase each other, rolling, crashing on the rocks, they cancel them self, under the cold wind like a sharp blade the sea growls the rocks, reacts with anger, gnashing, writhing, darkening, dropping his fury on the beach, it crosses the dunes, hits the wall.
Let’s go to the sea to listen to his loud, violent, impetuous voice, or to let you hear (or to be heard)?
In the white fury of huge waves, mesmerized (drunk), you surrender, lunges, Resurface, floats.
You like the sea in winter and the stormy days when, as an angry, mad animal, growls and shows his terrible strength, fighting with indomitable energy with the wind that lifts mountains of water and foam and immediately downs under the weight of dense clouds that darken the sky.
You love him, even though it can sometimes be cruel and indifferent, love him as you love life.
And in the breath of the wind and waves you marge your breath and find yourself.
Charles Baudelaire, The Man and the Sea Carducci. San Martino
Fri, March 9 2012 » Fashion Blog