Boom Boom

© Estate of Laura Poggi
There's this thing about explosions: you never really expect them.

You can wait for a bunch of good explosions for a very long time, still they always catch you by surprise. 
You're just there, in your smiling world with your ordinary life.
You actually wonder when the next boom is going to be heard.. 
I't been a while, there's too much silence, too much peace in the air..
You almost give up waiting for it.
 Then all of a sudden, when you less expect it, the sky gets darker and darker. Finally the shining shimmering lights turn down and the numbness and lethargy of you soul are broken, like fallen idols. 
The rumble of the thunder, the boom of the detonation: 
you finally wake up.
 You finally see everything and everyone's true colours. 

There's this thing about a silent soul shattered by a thunder, 
A dark sky torn in two by a light explosion..
You get wounded. But you also get stronger.

© Estate of Laura Poggi
 Bonifacio and Its Explosions


Second star to the right, and straight on till morning.

© Estate of Laura Poggi

 Les Deux Plateaux, more commonly known as the Colonnes de Buren
 Cour d'Honneur of the Plais Royal, Paris.
© Estate of Laura Poggi
© Estate of Laura Poggi


All the World's a Stage

Life Without Art is Stupid.
Paris, October 2014.
With two precious friends.

© Estate of Laura Poggi

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then, the whining school-boy with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then, a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden, and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then, the justice,
In fair round belly, with a good capon lined,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws, and modern instances,
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything".

W. Shakespeare


Promises are made to be broken.

I promised I would write.I promised I would find something to tell, to describe, to express.
I promised I would be in touch.
I broke my promise.
But a lot happened and I just felt I had to simply live it. Experience it. Feel it. Evetually I would start to write again.
It worked: I am happy.

But where is my life now?
I am with my Sir. And I couldn't ask for anything or anyone better.
I have more shoes. But they are never enough.
I have the same friends, but they are closer than ever, more precious than ever.
I have been to Corse and to Paris.
I am spending my Christmas holidays in NYC...
I realised I am a material Italian girl, who seeks a British attitude and dreams American dreams.

I realise I don't want to do anything I am not willing to do.  And I won't.
I am currently a fan of House of Cards and I could die for a new episode from the Sherlock series.
And I am not ashamed of that.
In my car there is always a song by Beyonce. Sorry, again not ashamed.
At the same time I now know that nothing really calms me down as a cloudy sky when I'm hiking in my mountains. That I just need a book and a coffee in a silent place to feel myself, to feel happy. That the best hotel of the world is the tent with my Sir under the stars, close to the sea. That what makes me alive is not the dinner in the ultimate chic restaurant, but my thirst for knowledge and my curiosity.
Two faces, one free soul.
I despise people who always need to put me into a category.
And if you do not know who I am or how I am ...  I could'nt care less.

© Estate of Laura Poggi
© Estate of Laura Poggi
I have an idea.
This blog - four hands.
Two dreamers sharing the same dreams.
Cooperating yes, but also watching the same mad world from two different points of view.
WindmillsJungle is now all pictures, nonsense, and (my) happy - still - cynical - and - skeptical attitude.
It may lack a touch of color. Innovation. Inspiration.
..... A formal invitation is on its way.
Time for a new blogger? 

© Estate of Laura Poggi
© Estate of Laura Poggi



© Estate of Laura Poggi

First pics with my new camera...

What does silence look like?!

Still seeking words to express what's inside. In vain.
Let flowers speak for me, for themselves.
And choose silence.
© Estate of Laura Poggi

© Estate of Laura Poggi


Sips for a New Beginning

It's been a while... 
Actually it's been more than two months since my last post.
A lot has happened. 
A lot has changed.
And, as it often happens, I preferred to choose silence over a dozen of empty words. 
My whole life has turned into some cahotic frenetic stressful overwhelming race against time, with two jobs and a university course I'm not taking care of (or at least not as much as I would like to).
My cat left and my heart broke into thousands of little desperate pieces..
Then he came back, and I really felt overjoyed.
My bestfriend left and my heart cracked. But it did not broke, since I was and still am really happy for her.
Then she graduated and I felt overjoyed once more. proud of having her in my life.
My Sir proved to be a perfect gentleman more than once, and my heart has never been so full of love before.
My camera died, but I am now 26 years old and my wonderful beloved parents celebrated me with a shining brand new Nikon 5200 reflex camera. 
Yes, it's true.

And this is it: Out of the blue,  on the most important holiday day for this country,
My inspiration simply came back to me. 
I feel tired and worried. But I feel passionate once again. 
And grateful.

“You have a grand gift for silence, Watson. It makes you quite invaluable as a companion.” ― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Complete Sherlock Holmes.


Waiting for Godot (in Siena)

© Estate of Laura Poggi
  "Well? Shall we go?" - "Yes, let's go".
 "They do not move."
Sundays are difficult. Something like a tragicomedy by Samuel Beckett.
It can be hard to have all that free time, and really don't know what to do with it.
Sometimes you find yourself with a whole sunday-day to use,
and the only thing you can do is wondering and wandering,
 with indecision,
... waiting for Godot.
"Let us not waste our time in idle discourse! (Pause. Vehemently.) Let us do something while we have the chance! It is not every day that we are needed. Not indeed that we personally are needed. Others would meet the case equally well, if not better. To all mankind they were addressed, those cries for help still ringing in our ears! But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late! Let us represent worthily for once the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us!"
Waiting for Godot by S. Beckett


“There is no confusion like the confusion of a simple mind…”

Gatsby 20s Illegal Party at Rivalta Cafè in Florence.
For a few hours, back to the roaring twenties!

"And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dreams must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter—to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther...
And one fine morning...

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Do you ever feel like you were born in the wrong age?
Since the movie has been released, everyone has been falling in love with Gatsby and the Roaring Twenties.
Truth is that only a few people actually know what "The Great Gatsby" is about.
F. S. Fitzgerald managed to describe how our current society would look like..
A cahos of excess, vice, powerful dreams and hope. 

"The Great Gatsby" is about hope.  
About our very hopes and illusions.
About the elegance we lost.

"The Beautiful and Damned" and "Tales of the Jazz Age" by F. S. Fitzgerald


Walking North

© Estate of Laura Poggi

..Feeling the wind on our faces..
Yes, it was summer, but we were close to Cape Wrath.
The sea was the guardian of all rainbow colors and shadows.
The Scottish sky had tons of clouds, wandering around like our thoughts.
The grass was dancing, light and happy,
as well as our hearts. 

Walking North through the Highlands.

Walking North as a State of Mind. 
No filters, No photoshop :)


Made (and drunk) in Italy!

Thanks to Mary&Ettore - Super Friends

If I say "made in Italy", what do you think I'm talking about?
Handbags? Shoes? The latest collection by Gucci?


I'm actually talking about something much more precious.
....Wine :)

You take your made-in-somewhere car, 
Leave the city centre with all its noise, pidgeons and expensive useless but "cool" shops (made in China - for the record),
Switch your cell (and brain) off,
And decide to get lost..
You actually have to get lost. Better with some really good friends.
Drive around those marvellous hills, enjoying silence and peace. 
All of a sudden you find yourself in Wine Wonderland:
It is called Capezzana..
 A die-for place, great food, and
a world champion vin santo
(Yep, it means Saint Wine, guess why??)
You made it: you found the "made in Italy" heaven.

Let them think that the best and coolest things in Florence are Pitti and Luisa Via Roma.


(A Small Short Sad Thought: 
My Nikon is actually on its way to ReflexHeaven. I didn't have the heart to take her to Capezzana and watch me drink all that delicious wine. 
She wants to die at home. 
In the meantime, as you can see, I am using an Iphone to take my pics... Yes, I know: simply shameful.
Let's hope I become rich quite quickly and can afford a good replacement!)


The Talk of the Town

People like to talk and, unfortunately, not only in town.
The less they know and have to say, the more they talk.
One of my favorite magazines,
The New Yorker

- yes, I receive a copy every week, and every week I feel happy, I feel as if I am not living in this sad town full of ancient-minded-people, but I am far away living my metropolitan warrior fairy tale..
 (the best 100 bucks ever spent) -

has a whole section under the title "The Talk of the Town".
Towns like to talk.
Every week, every day, every hour
this very minute
the rumor of the moment is wandering around,
from mouth to mouth
through streets and squares.

I like people who know when silence is the best thing to say.
I love those ones who choose to watch and think before judging.
Being always looking for the best in people,
I believe that there is a silencer in all of us, the only thing missing sometimes is probably the user's manual. everyone, deep down, has its own potential silent side.
words are precious.
waisting them is a crime.
never stop thinking. never stop moving. never stop choosing silence over an empty dozen words.

so please, if you don't have anything worthy to say ..
let me read my precious treasure.
in the end, we all hate chatting people,
but we all want to know the talks of the town. Including me.
is there anything more boring than people who keep talking about nothing?
yes, there is:


Always Looking for the Best!

© Estate of Laura Poggi
Nothing better than starting a new year with a great grey sky and a lot of problems with no possible solution.First of all my precious Nikon-friend: I really don't know how to survive while looking at its slow and painful death. With no money to buy a decent and worthy replacement.
Yes, I know, I promised me, myself and all of you that I would be positive, ready to look at a full HD colored wonderful world, smiling, and light-heartned.
But let's face reality: I am a black&white woman.
It is in the shadows that the best things, the best moments, and the best people can be found.
And I am looking for the best.
© Estate of Laura Poggi

© Estate of Laura Poggi


2013 + 1 = 2014

Once upon a time, 
A Prince was walking down a path through the woods. 
It was the first day of a brand new year.
He looked sad...
He did not know that a Princess was watching him, and that they would spend the entire upcoming year together. 
Let's begin this 2013+1 light-heartned and simply...happy!

Happy New Year.

© Estate of Laura Poggi
© Estate of Laura Poggi

© Estate of Laura Poggi

© Estate of Laura Poggi