Memories in Visual Form

The Soul

I heard once that certain Native American tribes used to be afraid of cars and airplanes because they moved at such speeds that the soul got left behind and would need time to catch up.



I think I'm catching up slowly.

Neve.

It is possible that it will be snowing my last two days here !!!!!!!!
Che magico!! **


* * *
The night before I found this magical news out, I read the first page of a novel by Maxence Fermine titled Neve. Neve means "snow." People are doubting me, but I know it will snow! I believe it will happen. . .



Vento invernale
Un monaco scinto
Cammina nel bosco

~ Issa

La neve è una poesia. Una poesia che cade dalle nuvole in fiocchi bianchi e leggeri. Questa poesia arriva dalle labra del cielo, dalla mano di Dio.

(The snow is a poem. A poem that falls from the clouds in weightless white flakes. This poem arrives from the lips of the sky, from the hand of God.)