If not Mado Flynn’s flowers, there is at least one more reason for you to pay a visit to the gallery-shop “Art of Tuscany”, Borgo Ognissanti 99/R, 50123 Florence, Italy – that’s the permanent exhibit of the artist Attilio Antonelli, whose joyous, abstract oil paintings decorate and give life to the shop’s clean-lined space. Photo courtesy of artoftuscany.it.
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Showing posts with label Art in Florence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Art in Florence. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 3, 2017
Imaginary Lines
Wednesday, July 5, 2017
Every Day
EVERY DAY
Every day there is the time to wake up Every day there is the time to get up Every day there is the time to go Every day there is the time to look Every day there is the time to say Every day there is the time to do Every day there is the time to listen Every day there is the time to help Every day there is the time to smile Every day there is the time to love Every day there is the time to pray Every day there is the time to thank. Times passes quickly You cannot buy it You cannot gift it You cannot create it Every day If there is no time You can only die.
Maria Bigazzi, 2013 – Life day by day.
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I knew Maria Bigazzi casually in one of the Internet kiosks where I’m used to play hide-and-seek with my “cosmopolitan fans”. One day she gave me a boero as a gift and we started to talk. She too has her own personal story and her own problems, and, unlike me, she likes to tell about herself. After telling me of her suffering through many misfortunes, however, Maria finally revealed me the secret of her light heart and kind attitude: art! Art saved her life and every day, thru her watercolours, poems and pictures, she succeeds in forgetting the burden of her sorrows. She put together most of her artworks in a self-printed book (“Poesie dipinte” idem to say “Painted poetry”) which one day she gifted me. I promised her to publish here one of her poems a couple of months ago, but in apologizing to her for my lateness, I hope she may understand that I waited so long for a good reason. From among many Maria’s poems, I choose the above one, because she is very religious and I’m not, but, even though I do not pray, I know I will see her again every day at the same time.
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