Psoriasisitchingover The Counter

Vesna Parun In tribute to the day of his death (25/10/2010)

Vesna Parun (1922-2010)

Per tutto ha colpa la nostra infanzia

Siamo cresciuti soli come piante
ed ora siamo esploratori
of villages deserted by the imagination
ignoring the obedience of evil.


We grew up in the streets and we grew our fear
hoof wild that they would have crushed
and walls of the fields that would divide
our youth.

None of us has both arms.
Two eyes free. Neither a heart
where a cry can not find shelter. In

we entered a world of discord, hurt

our foreheads with the roar of his murderous
truth and the din of the late star.

We get old. And fairy tales come to us
like sheep following a light in the distance. And like us
are our songs: *
serious and sad.


Vesna Parun, Za sve on Kriva djetinjstva Naša (Click on the headline to see the Croatian poetry in the original language)

Translated by Jacqueline Spaccini
Nor dream nor swan , Spring edition, 1999


===================== In the book I had translated * * weighted

Creamy Milky Lotiony Cervical Mucus

The title is censored (poetry)

Giovanni Bellini, Madonna adoring with sleeping baby (detail), 1455
ca. New York, Metropolitan Museum

The title is censored

We're talking about a future in which
us we did not
while our hearts are said another.
But do not listen, undeterred to
play our respective roles
before others. See
already distant
in September now so away, and painfully
next
move in the same city
lost each other.
We hope to enjoy the last days of getting drunk
glances and handshakes
hoping someone would save us
and fearing him.


We are not saying goodbye dicendocelo.
not wanting it.

Jacqueline Spaccini

Bathroom Color Schemes Silver And Red

The performance of my company Poete

The Company of Poets (which I am proud to belong) founded by Mia Lecomte with the show stepmother in Trieste:

The video was made available to me by Sarah Zuhra Lukanic whom I thank.

Delsey Canada Mississauga

> BarCamp" Sharing Data - Statistical Knowledge "



Per informazioni sull'agenda e sui partecipanti alla manifestazione sull'analisi statistica e sui tool IT specialistici, in association with the first day on the statistics:
http://barcamp.org/Sharing-Data-and-Statistical-Knowledge


at Sapienza University of Rome
Date: October 20, 2010

Japanese Puzzle Box In Toronto

Teaching International, which passion! When there was hope

I dedicate this post to all those who have never understood anything of course, I speak from outside and more often speak nonsense .

With Tiziana Jacoponi * author of the article below, published in the latest issue of FOCUS-IN (Italian magazine in Paris):

S ono professor and I'm proud ....

(Professor and journalist ) Tiziana Jacoponi

I would break a lance in favor of teachers.
Let me try to overthrow the point of view and speak well of those who work in schools. Speak ill of him, they do well in many, the infamous professor (the carcass of the movie "Night Before the Exams). To speak properly, there no proof: it is absolutely unpopular, we crazy? Defending the teachers - known lazy unprepared, always ready to complain, social status or almost elusively recognized only for its shortcomings and never for its many achievements.
Obviously, no one ever tells of the courage and determination it takes to enter the classroom and face 25 to 35 students waiting for you at the gate. If you fail the entry into class is like a play, you can not repeat, you are condemned to life and you can not make them change their minds. Believe me, much worse than Christmas dinner with relatives who dislike ....
Whilst it may be that the entry into the class of prof is a success, it remains the key point: how to interest them segura, and without threatening them without screaming? I repeat: they are all against one, a fact which must be able to resolve the determination with skill and sympathy. Obviously no one taught him, nor has it ever done to see how it's done. You learn on the field and every day you change your shot ...
It is not enough. The teacher needs to know to do everything: to be powerful, funny, seductive, attractive, even clever, but not too much else arrives on time - and I quote - the "why do you and the teacher?". As early as ever ..
Missionaries, if reinterpreted the concept of a lay missionary, alias teach without being aware that they have the vocation to teach.
certainly teach is not a job shining socially, nor compensated for ... It is silent, or you forget to tell the time you move to correct homework, prepare lessons, attend endless planning meetings, not to mention the class councils, which is regularly attacked for failing to meet the program or not having assessed in a manner appropriate for the student ... No one ever puts further enhances the listening skills that one must possess to meet the diverse demands, from a ready answer to become spin doctors Dalal two seconds after a kind of psychotherapist through the infinite patience it takes to listen and sometimes incoherent speech ungrammatical. Unfortunately no one ever tells the joy you feel when a student gets excited for the Latin versions or the classics or, better yet, knows how to do equations and relevant scientific questions arise that have nothing to do with ufology or National Treasure ... Yeah! No one ever talks about why teaching is a profession for those who want to shine or for those who still believe that only through awareness, understanding, continuity will have in hand the keys to enter the world of work.
But you have never met a professor boldly say: I am a professor and I'm proud? You would think that it is a fool or a fanatic or someone who has not yet entered in the register. How can you brag if you lack the means, instruments and places to do your job with dignity?
Have you ever thought about the determination needed to face daily, minute by minute, criticism and suggestions from school who do not understand anything beginning with the Ministers of Education of the public or rather destruction ..
But what other job category would be able to bear such a heavy load moral and social development without rebelling? Only the Professor and those who work in schools that do miracles (Meredith's latest film is shown): do not give up anything, not even in the face of constant attacks, ridiculous salaries and the lack of career ... Not only that, despite throughout the school year goes on and reset of
I have a dream, who knows? maybe one day it will come true, a unique form of protest. In turn, one day at a time, using the word stop all pre-schools, day after elementary school, then middle and finally high school ... when an order does not work the other school work to the bitter end ... ... and then perhaps you will address the problem in a practical school. Happy New Year
professor.

of Tiziana Jacoponi

* Tiziana Jacoponi was professor of Italian at the University of Paris I - Sorbonne

Can Too Much Caffeine Hurt Me

OVER THE BRIDGE

of Italo Calvino and Sergio Liberovici

O-cheeked girl fishing
O-cheeked girl Dawn,
I hope to be able narrated
My life at the age that you have now.
Curfew: The city ranks
German dominated. We are ready.
Who does not want to bow your head
With us take the road of the mountains.

We had two decades and over the bridge
Beyond the bridge is in enemy hands
Vedevam the other side, life,
All the good of the world beyond the bridge.
All the evil we face, we
All the good heart,
Twenty years life is over the bridge, the fire begins
Besides love.

Silent on the needles of pine, chestnut
on spiny urchins,
A team descended into the dark morning
the dark mountain. The hope was our companion

to attack enemy strongholds
conquering weapons in battle
Barefoot and ragged, yet happy.

We had two decades and over the bridge
Beyond the bridge is in enemy hands
Vedevam the other side, life,
All the good of the world beyond the bridge.
All the evil we face, we
All the good heart,
Twenty years life is over the bridge, the fire begins
Besides love.

Not that we should be holy,
Heroism is not superhuman,
Run, down, come on, leaps forward,
Every step you take is not in vain.
We saw at hand,
behind the trunk, bush, the reeds,
The future of a more human world
and more just, more free and happy.

We had two decades and over the bridge
Beyond the bridge is in enemy hands
Vedevam the other side, life,
All the good of the world beyond the bridge.
All the evil we face, we
All the good heart,
Twenty years life is over the bridge, the fire begins
Besides love.

now all have family, have children,
They never know the story yesterday.
the only son among the lime trees and walking
With you, dear, then you were not there.
And I wish that those of our thoughts, our hopes of
Those then,
lives in the hope that you, O girl
color of dawn.

We had two decades and over the bridge
Beyond the bridge is in enemy hands
Vedevam the other side, life,
All the good of the world beyond the bridge.
All the evil we face, we
All the good heart,
Twenty years life is over the bridge, the fire begins
Besides love.




(Thanks to Antonio B., the friend found)

and also thanks to Bartleboom

Silvercity Brampton Sh

Alan Zamboni, The Last Van Gogh's painting (review) had

Alan Zamboni, The last painting of Van Gogh , Infinite Editions, 2010 ( accompanied by a music CD unpublished), 15 €. Foreword by Pablo Echaurren. Introduction by Robert Bernardo. Afterword by Ennio Calabria. Details of Alan Zamboni. ISBN 978 88 8960 2 737

Mystery Van Gogh

C are the young people who have very clear ideas. Such as Alan Zamboni.

who wrote a book, which looks like a novel, the love that people bring to art, the love that people bring to other people, about love in absentia .

Because the protagonist of this novel is absent. I mean, is not present in the flesh (I should say in the paper and ink), and suddenly he is dead, suicide. I speak of course of Vincent Van Gogh's Son others who are living, pulsating throughout the text. The other, his brother Theo, his sister in law Johanna, the retailer of fabrics and colors Le Père Tanguy, and even small Adeline Ravoux (of which I will not say anything to not spoil the taste of surprise at the end).

There is a thread rouge who holds all things and is the unnamed narrator, without real depth, because it serves only to tell the search for a mysterious picture, the last of Vincent. But it is not yellow. And there is pathos . There is an infinite tenderness

, however.

photo by ©Jurjen Drenth (flickr.com)

Questo libro è innanzitutto un percorso.  Ed è probabilmente il risultato di una lettura approfondita delle lettere e/o di uno scritto coevo a Van Gogh sull'ambiente dell'epoca (ci sono fin troppi riferimenti precisi a luoghi e cose che non esistono più). Non è una critica negativa, la mia. Al contrario.

Consiglio la lettura di questo libro di Zamboni a tutti coloro che volessero entrare nel mondo del pittore olandese: è ricco di aneddoti, di particolari, cerca di spiegare la grandezza della sua pittura che all'epoca non doveva apparire tale - un po' come Ligabue happened to the Italian (Antonio, of course).

Who knows me as the above, will please the author Bell'Italia; a bit 'less that it should have to justify everything. That desire for completeness. I guarantee that there is no need: the reader understands everything everywhere without explanation. And then let him look a bit 'even by himself, the reader, no?

© photo by Jacqueline Spaccini

I heard CD attached to the last. Beautiful all the instrumental tracks, especially the evocative song No 14 (but as I write, I already wrong to other tracks: the 2, 8, 16). Suggestively warm voice (human and instrumental) Angel Galzerano.

In short, bravo, Alan Zamboni, nice idea: I am back to listening to the CD of rain a year ago, when I was in Amsterdam and thought the beautiful letters of Vincent, written in French nearly perfect, all full of his drawings. So sure, he, his art and what I wanted to do.

A little 'as the author of this book.

[Jacqueline Spaccini, Saint-Cloud, 3 octobre 2010]

© photo by Jacqueline Spaccini