A White Summer

So. Here we are. Me and my thoughtmate Natalja Heybroek.

There is a story I desire to tell about this performance.

But now I feel it's time to only kindly watering you with our Whiteness without whispering anything else (here where Natalja does it her way).

Please, open your lungs and come in.

Thanks again to Marilù and Dorotea Pace, for the upcoming photographs and the shots.

Thanks to Helena Sanders, for giving us her lovely atelier as our base.

Thanks to Heidi Harris, for her song Carved In.

Thanks to Carved In itself.

Thanks to life, for letting me create with these beautiful people.

Come again, if you like to peek some magic more.

Love,

Eleonora

Mediterranean Migrant Sisterhoods

Dorotea and Marilù Pace
while talking about life changes and hopes
23rd of June, Amsterdam

Simple like that, I wish you just the king of the wishes.
I wish you your dreams come true.

Marilù

(E buona Londra, mie care)

The Jackalope who taught me we can play

(Jul Jackalope on Games.)

Another huge acid satisfaction in my bucket ::: (you shouldn't cut your hair, man)

I'll explain what you have to do.

Earn the first row, possibly in front of Makoto Kawabata's amplifier, close your stupid eyes, untie your hair (please, feel entirely each of your hair, coming down from the root to your chicks), bow to the music, head bang horizontally, listen to the caress of the trip through your own hair and get hypnotised by Acid Mothers Temple & The Melting Paraiso U.F.O.

…When you'll slowly wake up from such a trip, you won't believe the only thing you made was to stand in front of a stage.

Know first who eventually will see you will think you're having the longest orgasm ever – get ready to the consequences. Well, or don't. Who mind, perhaps you're having the longest orgasm ever!

Anyway, although I was enjoying the concert in trance, my stupid eyes wanted their slice once again…

Hiroshi Higashi

Makoto Kawabata

Tabata Mitsuru

again Hiroshi Higashi

Koji Shimura

I usually don't post this type of photographic memories, but for this special night I do like to make exception to show I joined Koji's real job: taking a picture with a lady every concert.

Koji Shimura with me

And this exception must call its related exception, the fun after the other great psych concert I enjoyed this year, also in the same locale, the dB'S; in April I saw Cinema Soloriens and, yeah, they're actually strongly connected with Acid Mothers Temple because Daevid Allen, who was playing in Cinema Soloriens too, is synonym of Gong – and Gong had a great good time with Acid Mothers Temple, which obviously gloriously turned into Acid Mothers Gong.

So, here these other exceptions, thanks to Luc Pilmeyer, who photographed this unexpected dance during the middle of the dinner we had together after the concert, in a Greek restaurant. 

me and Daevid Allen
photograph by Luc Pilmeyer

Daevid Allen and me
photograph by Pilmeyer Luc

By the way, I'm very serious saying you shouldn't cut your hair.

Guess why during the Vietnam War special forces recruited Native Americans and, lately, decided to let them keep their long hair. Just guess it.

Drops

While I write this post, a modest natural disaster is letting Utrecht experience some troubles: in twelve hours it rained more then in an average October (the most raining month) and I'm been told every basement of the town is getting flooded.

I live in a basement.

I'm enjoying this trouble, also since it is not a serious drama, because I love to see how with a trouble people help each other and organise themselves. It reminds me what my hitchhiking trip shown me this August: persons love to help, specially who doesn't have too much to give is often who enjoys more to give, anyway. "Homo homini lupus" is not a truth, although the humankind has been able to way too far. I don't think that attitude belongs intrinsically to our nature.

Anyway, yes, it's still true we're showing we're able to go "too far"; indeed this not common rain really let us worry about the climate change (which is not really an unknown news I'm gonna send you from The Netherlands, I know, but right now it's just on my skin).

Also, somehow I like to fully live all this moment here, sweating to dry my basement (hey, wait, I don't sweat at all, it's too cold…) and meanwhile thinking that at the same time, somewhere else, in my hometown in Italy, my old friends are there – and I can picture them! I love this. I love to close my eyes and shortly be exactly where who I love is.

So tonight I like to post here some photographs from my ten days in Cremona, the past September. Drops of magic friendships.

me by Erica Lanzoni while I was floating in her shelter

With Lidia

With Axl and Sonica

• their depth first •

• and their sweet shyness afterwards •

myself again by Erica Lanzoni

With Andrea

⁂

(And yes, by the way, although this trouble I still like the rain. And The Netherlands, of course. And since I see most of the people living here don't understand how I can (or just consciously disagree), I thought it was nice to share my reasons, time by time, with an hash tag. Try on twitter #WhyILoveTheNetherlands and feel free to adopt it – I'm just at the beginning. NB Doesn't mean I don't like Italy or any other place. But I prefer the Dutch weather. Yes, I do.)

A Dark Morning At Home ☉ Dilation

[[[ Special Anniversary! ]]] Jente Seria /// Your Daily Vision

The 9th of October 2013:

 • nine years ago I kissed my first boyfriend (hey, that's a holy memory I share, respect!),

 • forty-three years ago a lady who helped me a lot was born (happy birthday, Polly Jane)

and

 • already FIVE YEARS ago this my sweet friend, my blog Eta dorme sui pesci volanti, started its run.

Thank you my little blog…

and thank you everybody who likes it :)

(I specially thank who asked me to keep it when I was gonna delete it, during some old crisis… (Ciao Do, ciao Jul, ciao Calzi'! E va be', ciao pure alla nanerottola, ciao Rib. Ciao Chockie. Ciao Testadiclaudio, ho scritto il pos pensando di annuire tutto il tempo, vinco qualcosa? Ciao Antonio, come va? Scusa se non ti ho chiamato quando sono scesa, comunque è stato bello beccarti per caso in Piazza XXIV Maggio; so che non leggi mai il mio blog perché sei un pezzo di merda, però è bello insultarti alle tue spalle, magari un giorno leggerai. Sì, ciao Chockie, ciao. Ciao. Stai buono, vai di là. Ah, non sei qua? Ah già, io sono a Utrecht, tu sei a Cremona. Probabilmente ora starai andando sotto al letto e lasciando un sacco di peli ovunque. Cane scemo. Ciao anche a Sonica, che ogni tanto passa di qua. Ciao anche alla panettiera vicino casa mia qui a Utrecht, anche se non aveva accettato il ruolo che speravo facesse per il mio video per Heidi (hi, Heidi!). Ciao Masha, пока! Ciao anche al mio primo fidanzatino delle elementari che quando entrava in classe, la mattina, prima di lezione, prendeva sempre la rincorsa e andava a dare una testata al muro – e credo di averlo amato soprattutto per questo. E ciao Fede, che anche il tuo blog ha fatto gli anni di recente! Ciao Chockie, ciao, sì, ciao, vai di là.)

Ok, the romantic break between me, this blog, the flying fish and anyone there behind the monitor (historical readers (ciao Abi) or just a random visitors) now is finished: time for celebrate everything with a very very nice, stupid, weird, idiot, ugly, awkward and holy traditional stuff:

our new air album!!!

If you don't know what I'm talking about, shame on you, brother.

Of course I mean the great spectacular project JENTE SERIA, which you can browse by its tag on my blog: we went through hip hop, heavy metal, dream pop, psych folk, disco punk, Italian indie rock, dark wave and an unknown bootleg…

Cheers, this is our third year of activity (after our longest break, finally our fans will be happy again, get ready to the huge hype I can already feel around, our last album sex 'n' confusion has been released more then one year ago, the 5th of October, but now your waiting is over, folks!).

And cheers again, ladies and gentlmen, this is our tenth album!!!

Now that hopefully you're updated about the best air music collection on the planet, please enjoy our new air cover, Your Daily Vision, our unique and unexpected saucerful of psy trance:

Long live to Jente Seria!
Long live to my sweet psychedelic blog!
Long live to Mr. Chockie!
Long live to the silliness!!


PS: Fully respecting the Jente Seria tradition, which started as outlet during our Academic exams and loved to waste this way our time instead of studying, also now, actually, I'm really overloaded of things to do: and here we go, that's Jente Seria's spirit. There is nothing I can do. Love it.

A stupid question

Ok, I'm really sorry with everybody for the question I'm gonna write, because I'm been told it's a stupid question. But I still do think it's nice to ask, I just want to make sure.




I don't remember very well why it is a stupid question, but I'm been told so, so probably it is.





This is the question:
do you know Mahavishnu Orchestra?

Anyway, I like a lot Mahavishnu Orchestra!

The Little Story of A Short Ethernal Fear Birth ~ and other shit

This afternoon I faced an organic fork:

I was holding this sorrow Pulp which I grabbed sliding inside myself, she was ready to get bigger, but I took her in time, still benign, I told her to calm down one moment and then I observed her while, patient, she was explaining to me her right to live, resting in my palm.

The fact of being able to make a backward step from the running abyss, a backward step from myself, with all myself, this fact made smile by tenderness; now with the Pulp I can talk in a pretty more diplomatic way, I can even offer her a cup of tea and I explain to her that, to be honest, I'm fine even without her, I have to finish some stuff, I mean, I'm a busy one.

But then she looked at me by that delirious interstice of plea and severity and she convinced me; she remembers me that what we learnt in June, this summer, was to give to the darkness its slice of evacuation, 'cause it belongs as well to the health, to the complementarity, after all.

So I gave heed to her and I made the old good exercise: I ex-pressed myself, I converted the sorrow in value.

This is the drawing I made today:

This is a drawing I made in June:

(my jugband blues…*)

These are April notes (they don't have too much to do in this post, but they are sweetly capricious):

And this is a detail from tonight,

you better zoom to watch it entirely,
it's called The Little Story of A Short Ethernal Fear Birth
and I consider it a good experimenting object for my next works:

Special credits for my today's guardianship:
Baby Lemonade, Syd Barrett
*Jugband Blues, Pink Floyd (oh my, all the universe still disappears in electric clouds of fears each time I hear "And I'm wondering who could be writing this song")
The Rainbow Family
Dead Mantra, Dead Skeletons
and my alter Eta: John Johnny John caro.



Good whatever everyone, everybody.

And remember to listen to good music…

Hanged and dropped

Tattoo design knocks on my door

Dear everybody, there is one thing coming often to me: people want me to design their tattoos.

I would love to also make them physically on the skin, but it would mean a complete new technique to learn and currently I don't feel like adding it to my path; maybe one day. I deeply respect it, so, if I will, I want to do it very seriously.

But still I can design them.

So, after all the requests I received, I figured out I want to tell it "gently loud" on my blog: commissions are open!

Don't hesitate to contact me, if you want my drawing  (or my handwriting) on your skin… or if you're a tattoo artist interested in collaboration:

maleta[at]alice[dot]it

And be sure about one thing: if your idea won't fit my style, I'll tell you. I don't tolerate the idea of making a bad work for such an important question. But if I'll see my style or my skills comfortable on your desire, then I'll be glad of participating on your path. 

☉

༼༼༼  This is a little detail of my fish flying on my skin   ༽༽༽

I'm not posting my entire tattoo to avoid one behaviour I find extremely sad in choosing tattoos: just picking up something online or from the flash book in the tattoo shop: each tattoo has its own story and one thing I want to conserve for sure it will be the unicity of each design I'll made; once one will get a design, I won't let anybody else use the same again.

It's better to wait a long and to think a lot about what you want, it's better if you go to many tattoo artists or many drawers, whatever, maybe you'll find your image with me or anybody else, doesn't matter, but create your own magic symbol, your own special picture: comprehend the ritual.

I believe this should be always respected, unless you intentionally want a collective symbol, which is, by definition, something looking right the same for everybody, or for a certain group of people.

Have a great tattoo bud!

(Guessing Epicity)

October is one of my favourite month because it celebrates brownish colours.

I'm glad to inaugurate this October with some portraits I made of Victor Lorandi, since he likes them too.

Furthermore, October has been the month of the first sketch and photographs I made of him, three years ago.

That time, the only thing I understood about Victor was his clear passion for writing; I never seen anyone else keep writing that much in a pub or anywhere else. This time, I enjoyed the honour of a very long conversation about his (and mine) artistic process and it has been very lovely to let grow the ideas I had of him from that time to our present (whatever "present" could mean): I saw in one bigger picture the same guy was bent on his pen now telling me his trip through the inspiration and how a pen or a keyboard can call him.

But there is a specific cerebral joy I appreciate in conversations: when we actually define concepts, concepts I can grab and use as guide or reminder, concepts can shape a cloud of thoughts and inspire new branches.

I know I'll keep some of his helpful and inspiring thoughts up on my mental board, so I'm very thankful; I'm thankful for the concepts themselves, for this satisfying sensation of bringing a peculiar sense to a night and for the satisfaction of reaching some conclusions (a lot of the people, instead, is used to blab to postpone the solution and wallow in the grief: thoughts with a goal make the difference).

Last but not least, I'm thankful for the laughs!

⁂  These pictures

have been taken with a lot ot love

for a special lady living to the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, rather in the South…