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La vie en…jaune

31-Mar-2017

Spring, as Brexit, advances relentlessly. Could’ve had the attack in Westminster and a morning drizzle, but nothing will prevent the temperature to rise and deep pink petals to bloom and fall on sidewalks and on lovers, which apparently cannot help but sit on the floor, as my friend Valeria pointed out!

On a double-decker I can frame people and cities simultaneously. An umbrella printed with palm leaves, the girl with sketching pad sits next to me and starts talking Spanish on the phone. The unitarian church (“we believe in good”) welcomes the faithful with a banner that reads: “An atheist, a rabbi and a nun enter a church …”. The copy of “Frankenstein” that a guy on my left is reading has golden pages edges. To my right, a girl reads “Tender is the night”. At the museum canteen, as well, many people read paper books during their lunch breaks and almost every night, on my journey home, the sight of Waterstone‘s bookshop made me want to stop and buy a book. I don’t know if it’s because it overlooks a beautiful tree-lined small square, or because I’ve bought something there on my previous short stay here.

The ad that invites to walk at a brisk pace, ’cause even only for ten minutes, it can make all the difference (see, Mom!?)

Out of the tail of my eye I glance a florist’s van named “Rebel Rebel”  and I find out that they have a workshop in Italy.

Working at the museum I’ve met many visitors that, noticing my accent, are eager to tell me about their relationship with Italy: they love it, many of them go there on holiday and have friends there, someone is studying Italian. A gentleman concluded by saying how senseless brexit is and how it is the result of a campaign based on lies. We agreed that the problem is ignorance.

2017-03-31 11.40.07

I’m not going to be nostalgic after just two months, but you try to sit on a brown leather couch, sipping a long black at Chumley’s (where restroom walls are covered with pages of the book ) and not become emotional while the Cure are singing

Lovesong

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am home again

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am whole again

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am young again

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am fun again

However far away

I will always love you

However long I stay

I will always love you

Whatever words I say

I will always love you

I will always love you

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am free again

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am clean again

2017-03-31 11.44.00#1

La primavera, come Brexit, avanza inarrestabile. Può esserci stato l’attentato a Westminster e una pioggerellina mattutina, ma nulla impedirà alla temperatura di salire a ai petali color rosa intenso di sbocciare sui rami e cadere sui marciapiedi e sugli innamorati, che pare non possano fare a meno di sedersi per terra, come mi ha fatto notare la mia amica Valeria.

Col double decker posso inquadrare contemporaneamente persone e città. Un ombrello stampato con foglie di palma, la ragazza con lo sketching pad si siede vicino a me e comincia a parlare in spagnolo al cellulare. La unitarian church (“we believe in good”) accoglie i fedeli con un banner che recita così: “An atheist, a rabbi and a nun enter a church…”. La copia di “Frankenstein” che sta leggendo il ragazzo alla mia sinistra ha il bordo delle pagine dorato. Alla mia destra una ragazza legge “Teneder is the night”. Anche alla canteen del museo sono in molti a leggere libri di carta durante la pausa pranzo e quasi ogni sera, tornando verso casa, alla vista del Waterstone bookshop mi viene voglia di fermarmi e cercarmi un volume, sarà perchè si affaccia su una bellissima piazzeta alberata, o pechè ho l’impressione di averci comparto qualcosa, nel mio precedente breve soggiorno londinese.

La pubblicità che invita a camminare a passo svelto, anche solo per dieci minuti, ché può fare la differenza (capito, mamma!?).

Con la coda dell’occhio vedo un furgoncino di una ditta di flower decoration che si chiama “Rebel Rebele scopro che ha un workshop anche in Italia.

Durante il mio lavoro al museo sono numerossissimi i visitatori che, colto il mio accento, mi parlano del loro rapporto con l’Italia: la amano, molti ci vanno in vacanza e hanno amici lì, qualcuno ne studia la lingua. Un signore ha concluso dicendo quanto fosse senza senso brexit e come essa fosse il risultato di una campagna di bugie. Abbiamo convenuto che il problema è l’ignoranza.

Non ho intenzione di essere nostalgica dopo appena due mesi, ma provate voi a stare seduti su un divano di pelle marrone, sorseggiando un long black al Chumley’s (che ha il bagno tappezzato di pagine del libro Dawn of the Bunny Suicides) e a non diventare sentimentali, mentre i Cure intonano

Lovesong

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am home again

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am whole again

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am young again

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am fun again

However far away

I will always love you

However long I stay

I will always love you

Whatever words I say

I will always love you

I will always love you

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am free again

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am clean again

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Published on 31-Mar-2017

La vie en…jaune

Comments

  1. James says:

    Well written, it’s like I am re-discovering London a bit again, but then again, that process will never stop. Keep up the good works, Mary! Ciao, James

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