A bunch of balloons flying away from the hands of a child and runs into the sky on a clear October sky, that seems painted. A child has fallen and peeled. Another chases her friend under the chute, then gets bored and kicks the ball. I'm going to see the exhibition of Bronzino, city event of the autumn, the I find it interesting, I left with several thoughts and two postcards which are already on the fridge. In the halls of Palazzo Strozzi was also Paul Poli, elegant and very beautiful, that went back and forth from one canvas to another, and he stopped short in each panel. In the shop the son of the chief tells me a whole story about a house with the birds and as she does is so absorbed that I am stroking my fingers one by one, then a little 'strings and a bit' strokes her back, not until his mother calls him to go and then he stops and changes the subject as he walks out. It 's a baby soft. As every child tells you something while following his mysterious mental edge that I find fascinating, I could listen to him for hours. Who knows, maybe I'm regressing.
All this, plus a lunch in the countryside based tortelli Mugello, it happened in the past three days. Not today, today it's raining, do not talk about going out then I put a little 'a place at home and feel all the possible news that we are on the radio. I also danced a lot 'while I washed the dishes and listened to a disc, including a news and more.
I am told that this is my life that I have to accept because that is the way it is, period. And I believe that I do. Wanting things is impossible, so I keep what I have, that these things, I carry this beautiful garden inside and outside the rain and the thirty seconds that I felt like chasing the balloons that runs away and do as Mr. Fredricksen a bit to see 'where I was going to end.
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