The Secret

October 15, 2016 § Leave a comment

He told me the way I embraced people would make them want to confide truths to me. Don’t let the CIA know that, I joked to make this discussion lighter. We were standing in the middle of a busy street. But I knew what he meant. I had stopped embracing strangers a couple of years ago. The waves had become too high for me. And my boats had been sunk long ago.

(First published on Instagram, here.)

The Good Neighbour

October 12, 2016 § Leave a comment


I ran into her coming out of the house a second time in the same week. Two days ago I told her how sorry I felt about hers and W.’s separation and that if there was anything I could do she shouldn’t hesitate to tell me. This time she immediately asked if we could have a wine together. I said yes, of course.
The other night our troubled neighbour knocked at my door. The one who always forgets to take out the dustbins on garbage collection days. She had trouble at work. She needed someone to talk to

(First published on my Instagram account, here.)

The Promise

October 12, 2016 § Leave a comment


The impossible was promised to him. That was because it is generally believed there is no harm in promising the impossible only to take your promise back after a while. After all, anyone who had really believed that the impossible would be possible was responsible for his own stupidity. There’s no agency for not keeping a promise of something impossible while a lot of pain for believing it was possible. A light wind was enough to blow such promises away.

(First published on my Instagram account, here.)

Last Dance

October 11, 2016 § Leave a comment


He had been invited to watch them dancing, to watch them flirting, to witness time. How unnecessary this had been. He made three steps backward into a dark corner until an open palm touched his shoulder.

(First published on my Instagram account here.)

A Poet’s Life

October 11, 2016 § Leave a comment


Your spine tells the story of a poet working at a construction site, said the doctor, proud of the prophetic ability his science and experience guaranteed to him. I am a school teacher, said the man, and after an awkward silence where the doctor, slightly embarrassed, thought of what was fit to say now, the man added, without the slightest tone of irony in his voice: And thus exactly what you guessed, doctor.

(First published on my Instagram account here.)

Geometries of the Soul

October 11, 2016 § Leave a comment


Geometries of the Soul is an unfinished project that started unfolding itself on my Instagram account where I’ve been posting my film photos for quite a while now. I belong to a group of photographers who have been posting not just photos but also longer captions to the photos, captions of different types: sometimes comments on photography, sometimes autobiographical, and sometimes fictional texts, a few of the latter is what now evolving to this project I’ve named: Geometries of the Soul.

The usage of captions on my Instagram photos lead to an invitation from Teju Cole (himself a most inventive and inspiring user of Instagram) to participate in Documentum’s second issue: “Pictures & Words”, an issue about text and images paired together on InstagramDocumentum is “a guest-curated periodical archiving & examining the cultural ephemera of our time”, co-founded by William BolingDawn Kim, and Stephen Shore. Volume 1 “examines the phenomenon of Instagram through the eyes of artists, writers, and cultural thinkers.” The curators of this wonderful issue 2 that you can still purchase here were: Kate Palmer AlbersTeju ColeColette LaBouffJohn PilsonJeff Sharlet and Rebecca Norris Webb!

It’s true that because of Instagram and photography I’ve been neglecting my blog and was only occasionally returning here, mostly to post a poem. I’ve never been a prolific blogger and I use Twitter and Instagram as notebooks, but the truth is, I consider this place more my own than anything else as it gives me more archival and creative opportunities than anything else. Therefore I intent to now put up also here some of the photographs and texts already published on Instagram and then use it as the main developing space for projects like the Geometries of the Soul that sometimes bear more text than the Instagram developers have thought possible, or necessary, for their space.

Geometries of the Soul consists of film photos I take and vignettes inspired by them: short descriptions of characters, their moments, their stories, and histories, short scenes or dialogues, anything that could depict their “geometrical soul-print”. To explain the birth of this project better, I’m posting here the first Instagram photo and text that ignited it, almost a month ago. I will proceed republishing in separate posts the photos and texts that have already been published so far on Instagram and thereafter I’ll keep this blog more informed and actually more in the centre of this  project. I hope you’ll be inclined to follow and keep on reading.


Hard to know why something gives us pleasure, or to find out the mystery of love, why some loves mark us deeper than others, or some mistakes or events are never going to be completely overcome.
It is for sure photography and the questions of why my eyes are so pleased looking at certain images that makes me think of something one could call the geometry of the soul. Each soul is mapped by its beginnings and its ongoing trip, there’s no question about that. It has lines that meet in their own special way. A geometrical soul-print. When these lines are met by the lines of the outer world they can get deeper or be cut. In pleasure our inner landscape is palpable in a way that draws us forward, in sadness we lose our own thread and lines fade away. And still, not all of this makes sense.

(First published on my Instagram account here.)


October 9, 2016 § Leave a comment

I was in Bremen the other day and was of course reminded of the Town Musicians of Bremen, the fairy tale by the Brothers Grimm.

The four different animals united by fate on their way to Bremen, on their flight away from brutality and certain death.

A tiny refugee group, too.

“Something better than death we can find anywhere.”

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