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Award - Tribute to Josef Sudek

I dedicate this post and as- well you see - the template (I made) a great Czech photographer, Josef Sudek (Prague from 1896 to 1976). This man has devoted his life to photography, giving himself to it with great sacrifice (he lost an arm during World War I) and with great humility and, armed with these virtues, he immortalized in his photos everyday life.
And so the banality of simple objects is transformed into glory, and they become examples of the magnificence of creation ...

Here put some of his photos. (Forgive the poor picture quality)

photographer's studio - J. Sudek

This is testimony to the reconstruction of St. Vitus Cathedral in Prague during the 20s.

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Trip to Prague - I

came in the afternoon. We went down in the lobby. I totally unfriendly. My whole being is infused with horror possible. We headed to the subway with phlegm.

Now. Until that moment I believed that the sharp cold front of the hotel to the airport and tried to be the only one that my poor body would have to get used to - we had already signed an agreement ed'altronde-Well ... I had to reopen the negotiations! .

And so the way my body felt metropolitan reasons. Above the escalators!

There was something of an exaggeration: as we have been able to plan the stairs so fast? How perfidy? Perversion or what?

got off the subway at namesti republiky (Piazza della Repubblica), we headed in Wenceslas Square, the center of New Town. Of course, to guide us were our dear professors: Professor G., who from then on there was more worthy of a look (he has cleverly deprived of his presence had not committed any crime or any infamy!), Professor V . with the mob followed the whole male (a sympathetic individual, but rather childish and libertine. Rightly, the rest comes by itself ...), Professor C. (The most wise, ironic group) and finally ... the lonely, mysterious, dark, but not at all charming G. vice principal, who came not as an escort. Inscrutable to the end, has to think ... (but I will talk about this later ... a mystery is still open).

drag us to the square with little enthusiasm. Many, meanwhile, immediately spotted the Hard Rock Cafe (place in the way it came from). Wenceslas square was filled with stalls from which they rose into the air smells sweet and sometimes crept into his nostrils the overwhelmingly strong smell of meat. Stalls like small homes, pleasing to the eye because of the color red of the roofs, which blunted the monotony of the gray surroundings. At the end of the broad avenue (to be defined because it is so, Piazza Wenceslas), stood the building of the "National Museum" in all its glory. For us it was only an object of contemplation ...

Fatigue was a sovereign, and I, F., M., D. We stood firm and Br to contemplate the void for a number of minutes. I had to be violently capacitance in a foreign land, panic took hold of me, therefore, for a text message from my brother, said distressed and sad "I want to go home. W Italy. "

This day was particularly ridiculous and not at all successful, in fact, once back at the hotel we close ourselves in our rooms, thinking of ourselves a little refreshment at least through dinner. Which, unfortunately, did not happen.

When it was time for dinner, we rushed down hopes, but what we found there disgusted and sinking deeper bitterness. The food of the hotel left much to be desired. The only things with which I filled the dish was meatballs. Pleasant, but in the long run nauseating.

Miss D., perhaps, felt full of pride in that moment, because, back up, full of himself and proud of his good sense, showing off his food (consisting of crackers and donuts to the wine), leaving gaze (but not negandoceli).

The night we spent the "whole". In

me and D. burning desire make a phone call to our beloved Professor A. Phone call that did not happen at the end .... Although Prague

not promise anything good, and despite my intentions to run away grotesque (such fantasies and remained at least until the end of the second day), I happily dozed off (of course, happiness given only by the opportunity to sleep).

D. never slept in our room (something of which he still regrets, and he regrets). On this night also

B. visited us, falling asleep with us.

to be continued ...

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-day trip to Prague - Arrival at the hotel -

When you reach the hotel before, I wondered 1. The hotel itself 2. Certainly not the hotel that was situated in the center, as they guaranteed. 3. How my body had taken pity on me and like no leg and no other body had rebelled against that condition and I was surprised, then, how you keep it in their entirety, so that no piece could be losing more on the street. In

room with FM and X. (Which was seen well from the rest with us. This was not amused)

The first words of Professor G. (Old hand) with its unmistakable Neapolitan accent "raga! Beware! They will do anything to take away money! double check the room ... everything is alright! ".

now work. X. Filmed the entire room with its flaws and virtues. A video is a test more than overwhelming.

room not so great. Entertaining the opening of the door with magnetic card. Cabinet with the entry in front of the bathroom. 3 beds sorted horizontally around the room and not a bed all alone placed vertically between a table and a cabinet with a refrigerator. He was born in me a sympathy for that subspecies of bed. Nobody fought to win that spot, so it quickly became my bed. Watching from the window at all fascinating, even Alfred Kubin could take anything from that vision. Supermarket and parking in front (half of our future salvation). In a side yard open ...

bleak, yes.

D. was not in the room with us. His displeasure. Our regret. At least it was in the room with Br (friend of the other class).

Desperate for travel and for the bad impression he gets from all (until then), I dropped it on my non-bed. I lay against the wall and stayed there. Meanwhile, I listened to the voices of my three companions.

M. , Enthusiastic, leaping from bed to bed and my eyes followed her lazy but watch out, suspecting a possible jump on my "camp" and, therefore, fearing for my safety ...

Suddenly, just as I thought, she jumped on the non-bed. I did not try to stop it, but at least I threw - the instant-impact on the bed in front, shocked.

a suspicious noise does not bode well. The situation cracked (as if perfection that a foretaste of my first trip ... you have not already broken).

In the air there was a "What happened?". It happened that a plank broke beneath her.

We make sure that at least the others were intact, however, I noticed a certain fragility

... We understood that the video would not have testified in our favor, since it was shot all except the bed ... nevertheless, confident and in good faith , we went to call someone to replace the bed, trusting in the magnanimity of the hotel.

A man came soon after. Inconspicuous, small in stature, slightly odd-looking. Silent, he pulled out of the room the bed. He returned to retrieve the plank and walked away, looked particularly F. - Which was placed before the cabinet, nei pressi della porta- dandole, con l’asse da legno, una leggera, affettuosa pacca su una coscia.

Trattenemmo a stento delle risa, ma quando egli fu lontano, sbottammo a ridere.

F. rimase attonita. Si ritrasse sbigottita esclamando “Ma che vole quello?!?”.

Qualche minuto dopo, l’ometto fece ritorno con un nuovo non-letto. Una volta conclusa la sua mansione, sorrise buffamente e si congedò con un breve inchino, il che ci lasciò ancora più di stucco. Un individuo alquanto eccentrico…

(Ora come ora posso dire che ricordava molto uno degli assistenti dell’agrimensore K. ,la qual cosa mi inquieta e mi diverte al while thinking about the irony of the thing. In the end we were still in Prague!)

Meanwhile, we learned that this afternoon would only familiar with the city and nothing more.

Despite the fatigue, looking at the clear sky, almost convinced me to spend the rest of the day with joy, however, the most we got from me was to live alone with a humiliating peace ...

to be continued ...

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Trip to Prague - In-plane

The excitement I felt in the wake in the morning and arrive at Fiumicino. Common desire to live a magical experience a tutti comune. Fotografia di classe. Ultima volta che vidi la “classe” (assieme a me le altre amiche sopra citate con le quali, in seguito, avrei condiviso, almeno, una collera comune, rivolta contro altri membri della classe. La bontà e saggezza di F. nel non voler essere in collera).

Niente di particolarmente interessante all’interno dell’aeroporto.

Paura per il mio ricco bagaglio.

Paura per me.

Io accanto a F. e M. (altra amica). Persa di vista D. che sedeva più avanti.

Dietro T. , P. e B. , compagni di “classe”. Vittime di future sfuriate.

La mia eccitazione, che già era ad un bel punto, raggiunse the maximum at the time of departure. Because it was my first trip air, the excitement was elevated to power.

What emotion in us the certainty of being unable to put foot on the ground!

A common cry of joy at the moment when the plane begins to hover in the sky.

feverish euphoria took me in full. M. weep (do not know if fear ...). F. quiet and serene.

I close the window. My childish behavior by the beauty of the Earth. Hands on the window, eyes wide open. The entries of F. and M. who occasionally tried to re-establish contact with me, lost in the clouds.

Ad un certo punto del viaggio vista del Po’. Incredibile come sia stata capace di identificare il fiume nonostante le mie scarse conoscenze geografiche. E la mia mano già stringeva l’altra per le congratulazioni.

Momento che avrebbe segnato pesantemente il mio primo giorno: la colazione in aereo. Yogurt, muffin e panino. L’eccitamento mi mise fame, non potei guardarmi dal mangiare.

Sereno arrivo per molti, atroce per me. Causa turbolenza in cielo. Atterraggio scomodo per questo e rivoltante (in tutti i sensi).

E il freddo ghiacciò i miei arti. Le mie mani non si videro per molto tempo, smistate nelle tasche a cercare il caldo. Le mie gambe non vollero saperne niente e corsero più di me…

to be continued...

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Trip to Prague-Prologue-The

Nei giorni precedenti alla partenza. Giornate scarne animate unicamente dal nostro fermento. Volenterosi di fare niente, benché fossimo a Marzo. Unico pensiero: Praga.

Delle città che avremmo potuto visitare questa fu - a mio sciocco, inadeguato parere- all’apparenza la meno piacevole, pertanto il mio fermento – che così allora non si poteva definire, bensì sola accondiscendenza al desiderio comune – non era dei più vivaci.

Scartata a priori Parigi (perché gita dell’anno precedente) le altre capitali apparvero particolarmente costose, e Praga si shyly preparing to soar among others with its more than affordable cost.

When we decided, the euphoria was so great. The desolation that I felt in not being able to dream Paris, turned into a kind of hostility and skepticism, for the czech capital. However

grew in me the joy of the trip.

The idea of \u200b\u200brun around happily in a foreign land with their peers became attractive.

So I gave in this ferment, or at least a part of me, the other, on the other hand, basking in the laziness suited to her, annoyed at the idea of \u200b\u200ba trip by plane, landing, and a consequent delle conseguenti attenzioni che avrebbe dovuto rivolgere alla salute – perché tanto cagionevole- e alle conseguenti energie- sia pur mentali che fisiche- che avrebbe dovuto votare all’escursione di questa capitale sconosciuta e fredda…

Tralasciando la tristezza di cui i nostri cuori si empirono alla notizia che il nostro adorato professor A. non avrebbe condiviso la gioia della gita con noi, accettammo a malincuore – ma com’era giusto che fosse- di avere come accompagnatrice la professoressa G. (della quale, più avanti, non sentirete più parlare…).

Il professor R., al nome “Praga” accostò immediately the image of the writer who bore the singular name of "Kafka", I highly recommend reading at least the "Castle" before inoltraci all'avanscoperta.

Now, although my love for literature is genuinely free and deep, does not consist of a 360-degree freedom, but has limits so defined that such love diverged, most times in one direction "monograph" , so - being so greedy- runs out after only fed entirely by an author (or at least that much that comes close to all). In this regard, then I was taken by Charles Baudelaire Therefore, the idea of \u200b\u200breading Kafka even fluttered in the hall of my mind saturated with something else, and my laziness, to my amazement, even forbade me to gather information about the author in question.

Needless to describe the sadness I felt after this because of my severe lack ...

the evening before departure. Phone call to my friend D. Laughter arose out of the friend a text message to F., who, consumed by doubt, wondering if you could bring the plane in foam. Apocalyptic images in his mind: What if the foam exploded?. My

me "cordially invited" a troncare il dialogo telefonico, poiché dalla mattina seguente, e per 4 giorni, - a detta loro, e come avrei potuto dar loro torto- non avrei avuto carenze di dialoghi…

Inventario della valigia. Ingenuamente ignara delle temperature che avrei trovato, portai anche alcune gonne. Tutto apposto. Nessuna mancanza, nessuna visione apocalittica (il vichs sinex non esplode, tanto meno le pasticche di Moment ).

Notte passata a fantasticare. Cullata dal tepore del Marzo italiano…un tepore che nei 4 giorni avvenire, tra agonie varie, avrei tanto voluto si posasse sul mio povero corpo...

to be continued...

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Beauty


"Who keeps a diary has the advantage of realizing a tranquilizer with clarity the changes to which it is constantly subject to change course we believe, are perceived and admitted, but on the other hand unconsciously whenever they deny it or hope to gain peace of mind by such an admission. In his diary we find the evidence that we have experienced, observed and written comments maybe today in conditions that seem intolerable, therefore, that this was the right move at this time as that , it is true, we are more experienced because we have the opportunity to embrace the look of the situation that time, but for this very reason, we must recognize how much more fearless was our aspiration of the time, which is preserved in spite of all ignorance. "

[Fran Kafka, Diaries 1911]

Though I have flashed in a host of head-times-just the idea of \u200b\u200bkeeping a journal, my laziness (because of what it is. But I'm not lazy) I did most of the times prevented, if only for my unwillingness, for my fear of death. (a diary is what is most intimate exist. The embarrassment of those who could read it ... ah, ah)
However I regret that ... and I think assiduously write a diary without never materialized.
But I wish, at least in part, overcome my sloth, and by virtue of that, here at least publish the diary of my trip to Prague ...

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Fragments of a diary-III-

The convulsive gesture of a face that turns.

Distraction involves a departure from the monotony of attention, leaving a pattern of behavior, a kind of awakening instinct observation that every man has a dowry, but inhibits the world.
Sometimes the distraction we can discern, perceive, see things that attention it leaves much earlier, in fact, things outside the circle of a society that does not see.