tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38696951793204870512024-03-19T23:20:02.110+01:00metooneveri.e. I also needed it !stefanohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11036396537485838981noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3869695179320487051.post-90450907566657388552008-09-16T00:08:00.009+02:002008-09-16T00:32:37.759+02:00Sometimes they come back<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCXbCgNarnZ3qY8H23t9bJnm8jdnGhHZxZ78RLlAvi4A242wHXgZtl-JAXebFe7tCh6UWuh68yfNc5-1iixfUjUMGK4V14i7ssw1_FfvD0Un0pAUXKZLa1389VPtHCfkOdMtcFSOC1nE/s1600-h/leigh-gone.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCXbCgNarnZ3qY8H23t9bJnm8jdnGhHZxZ78RLlAvi4A242wHXgZtl-JAXebFe7tCh6UWuh68yfNc5-1iixfUjUMGK4V14i7ssw1_FfvD0Un0pAUXKZLa1389VPtHCfkOdMtcFSOC1nE/s320/cardinale-west.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246376708187043810" border="0" /></a>- I hope you'll come back some day....<br />- Some day.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjai0walvLs8n_bQt6dwBdUWCnnCgHZfFNTLkO4W9A5SV_cLTtVuPFRc64bA7UHsNZe33i1i0HwGUvkG_uh1eSFaLMifSI3mkvPzXl78RuY8ROM3hp-N1sXICzELD8e586GGTcYiE5WIAU/s1600-h/cardinale-west.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjai0walvLs8n_bQt6dwBdUWCnnCgHZfFNTLkO4W9A5SV_cLTtVuPFRc64bA7UHsNZe33i1i0HwGUvkG_uh1eSFaLMifSI3mkvPzXl78RuY8ROM3hp-N1sXICzELD8e586GGTcYiE5WIAU/s320/leigh-gone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246378700651886530" border="0" /></a>- Where shall I go, what shall do?<br />- Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.stefanohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11036396537485838981noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3869695179320487051.post-60137208911946444952008-08-30T19:39:00.002+02:002008-08-30T19:40:31.259+02:00Poetry and mobile phone<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfzkgjtgG-d2DasPMnTGyNe0IJeUDJWE9FVYJirDbwKSm_TcmpOhMxbxIGS1-av1GK-7aY_m3kMj_1he2UZUpHqi-AkEhSm1e3cC4PUwsyrFut6GmGPWQBlvkyCZM4W2s86_F-OPsJKoM/s1600-h/zabriskie_point.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfzkgjtgG-d2DasPMnTGyNe0IJeUDJWE9FVYJirDbwKSm_TcmpOhMxbxIGS1-av1GK-7aY_m3kMj_1he2UZUpHqi-AkEhSm1e3cC4PUwsyrFut6GmGPWQBlvkyCZM4W2s86_F-OPsJKoM/s200/zabriskie_point.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240366997073911218" border="0" /></a>It is easy to be nostalgic about the good old movies or music (even older). It is easy as much as it is difficult to be capable of producing a memorable movie or music in the age of mobile phones. To "fly away" today we need a clear and active determination that is against any sense of poetry.stefanohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11036396537485838981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3869695179320487051.post-91303430941698849572008-08-25T00:29:00.003+02:002008-08-25T00:38:42.440+02:00When economics take over……. everything<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTY0Rweo26xENveoUCh3wM8SdNC7Ygdb0apgUUd27CTxb8aT0ecmq2L61pRE3OpxUqzQ1iZa-wrpWY6PWIVVl6WFrnVq-vn-viTayK87KjggYatSjbXjEDqViO6Gs6SNAHD7vqpxPboVw/s1600-h/230_212a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 194px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTY0Rweo26xENveoUCh3wM8SdNC7Ygdb0apgUUd27CTxb8aT0ecmq2L61pRE3OpxUqzQ1iZa-wrpWY6PWIVVl6WFrnVq-vn-viTayK87KjggYatSjbXjEDqViO6Gs6SNAHD7vqpxPboVw/s200/230_212a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238216758839119586" border="0" /></a>It seems that Mitterand once said that he would have been the last (French) president to afford the luxury to don’t have to always make reference to economics in taking his choices.<br /><br />Yesterday I was expressing my strong appreciation for Argentinean people (solely based on my personal experiences in knowing Argentineans) when a not Argentinean friend, who has been living in Buenos Aires for one year, surprisingly he said “horribles” referring to them. At my questions trying to understand where his statement came from, he explained [in details] that the deal he had to close for the company he worked for has been terribly difficult because of the (bad) business attitude of Argentineans. I’ve then asked him again what about the people and not their business attitude and he said "yes, they are fantastic".stefanohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11036396537485838981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3869695179320487051.post-26937038406785513772008-08-13T09:16:00.004+02:002008-08-13T09:35:10.872+02:00Oh yes........<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz70uUtnd_5MVjucEZPmYUJukwPXNTeFy2SG3gncaO7cQA8ux2a5SzlKiX7VLgIs-2gmVCyyZKx28LpagfSfa35v3_xujXsUPnDpPFwVnnEhwPjSQLc-TvK02OcGqkzbt19Ez91v-83nE/s1600-h/winner.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz70uUtnd_5MVjucEZPmYUJukwPXNTeFy2SG3gncaO7cQA8ux2a5SzlKiX7VLgIs-2gmVCyyZKx28LpagfSfa35v3_xujXsUPnDpPFwVnnEhwPjSQLc-TvK02OcGqkzbt19Ez91v-83nE/s200/winner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233901767168714306" border="0" /></a><span style="" lang="EN-GB">Since when do we do the list of the Olympic winners by number of medals? Is it really a bronze medal the same as a gold one? If you NEED to be the winner, yes………</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br />(cfr. nyt.com and www.nbcolympics.com)</span><br /><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></p>stefanohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11036396537485838981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3869695179320487051.post-24995325843324513112007-06-23T23:24:00.000+02:002007-06-23T23:34:38.280+02:00L'amour et la jalousie<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBVLuleVZhuKTiXuV0I0Scd-hJUwFrQ4W1iQkVVwsUbvXz8j38rUPJgH3xzI5WbW0d0eAvXBcjXP88zDr7yTulyvURYlCVtf4lXrp3hNiBR1xyGnaXZ01y4SjOrsp-8cASag9MQ45d2OY/s1600-h/177_118.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBVLuleVZhuKTiXuV0I0Scd-hJUwFrQ4W1iQkVVwsUbvXz8j38rUPJgH3xzI5WbW0d0eAvXBcjXP88zDr7yTulyvURYlCVtf4lXrp3hNiBR1xyGnaXZ01y4SjOrsp-8cASag9MQ45d2OY/s200/177_118.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079376087107446178" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><i>A la Recherche du Temps perdu</i> est aussi un grand roman de l'amour, que ce soit celui des invertis ou celui d'un homme pour une femme. Trois grands personnages du roman sont de grands amoureux: Swann, Charlus et le narrateur. Le sentiment amoureux est toujours évoqué à partir du point de vue de l'amant, à savoir celui de Swann ou du narrateur; les sentiments qu'éprouvent Odette ou Albertine ne nous sont presque jamais révélés sinon par d'autres personnages tels que Madame Cottard qui apprend à Swann combien Odette l'aime (I-2, 145) ou par des lettres comme celle qu'Albertine envoie au narrateur après son départ pour lui dire qu'elle serait revenue s'il le lui avait demandé (VII-1, 100). Or, pour les deux amants, comme pour Charlus du reste, l'amour n'est jamais heureux, il est avant tout une souffrance parce qu'il n'existe réellement qu'à partir du moment où il donne naissance à la jalousie: Swann ne se rend compte de l'évolution de ses sentiments pour d'Odette que le soir où il ne peut pas, comme à son habitude, la ramener chez elle (I-2, 13), s'ensuit alors un épisode où il la recherche désespérément dans tout Paris; il ne la retrouve que par le plus grand des hasards. L'amour qu'il éprouve pour Odette est exactement le même que celui du narrateur pour Albertine: en effet, comme Swann, Marcel découvre combien il tenait à la présence d'Albertine auprès de lui à partir du moment où elle est partie, alors même qu'il s'imaginait que ce départ lui serait indifférent. Pour l'un comme pour l'autre donc, le désir n'est alimenté que par son insatisfaction: "<i>On n'aime que ce qu'on ne possède pas tout entier</i>" (VI-1, 145). Odette et Albertine ont toute deux un point commun: ce sont des "<i>êtres de fuite</i>", c'est-à-dire qu'elles demeurent, pour leurs deux amants, énigmatiques, ce qui nourrit justement leur désir. L'un comme l'autre, ils mènent une véritable enquête pour parvenir à connaître la part de vie qu'elles ne mènent pas avec eux. Mais le mensonge qui leur est familier ne fait qu'alimenter leur jalousie. Il n'y a donc pas, pour Proust, de véritable amour en dehors de la jalousie. De là vient que l'amour est naturellement toujours une souffrance. Or, pour Proust, la jalousie se nourrit d'elle-même: "<i>La jalousie qui a un bandeau sur les yeux n'est pas seulement impuissante à rien découvrir dans les ténèbres qui l'enveloppent, elle est encore un de ces supplices où la tâche est à recommencer sans cesse, comme celle des Danaïdes, comme celle d'Ixion"</i> (VI-1, 206). Seul l'oubli de la femme aimée permet d'échapper à la jalousie et à la souffrance: c'est le sujet d'Albertine disparue. Pourtant, il est un point sur lequel l'amour de Swann et celui du narrateur se différencient: Swann est incapable d'extraire de sa souffrance le matériau d'une œuvre d'art, comme il est incapable d'imaginer la vie que mène Odette, alors que les souffrances du narrateur deviennent justement le ferment de son roman: "<i>Une femme dont nous avons besoin, écrit-il, nous fait souffrir, tire de nous des séries de sentiments autrement profonds, autrement vitaux qu'un homme supérieur qui nous intéresse</i>" (VIII-2, 64). Etre jaloux, d'une certaine façon, est l'une des conditions qui permet de créer. Mais il n'y a pas pour autant idéalisation de la femme; dans une formule amusée, Proust écrit: "<i>Laissons les jolies femmes aux hommes sans imagination</i> ", (VII-1, 41). L'amour échappe à l'intelligence, l'amant ne choisit pas la femme vers laquelle il est attiré, mais il l'aime tout de même. L'amour s'impose autant à Saint-Loup, à Swann qu'au narrateur; de là vient qu'il dévoile à celui qui scrute ses propres profondeurs une part de lui-même que l'intelligence ne lui permettait pas d'atteindre. On voit donc mieux pourquoi, l'amour proustien ne peut-être que jaloux.</span>stefanohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11036396537485838981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3869695179320487051.post-49446787728165882632007-06-15T10:19:00.000+02:002007-06-15T10:23:05.876+02:00Floating in a floating world<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrqjbJT3fPj5yBKatAMcPvN7ywndMV_nGLIRRx1pf1Rj_UfE4KvKJK29ZmOD448LxiXkkd9ZHjfyStMfrdBxN0VTFGCE4njp15oUUUXrsJL7c6TMQvkM5wvhbYBEZE7ceT08c9ZGmTB04/s1600-h/177_057_resize.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrqjbJT3fPj5yBKatAMcPvN7ywndMV_nGLIRRx1pf1Rj_UfE4KvKJK29ZmOD448LxiXkkd9ZHjfyStMfrdBxN0VTFGCE4njp15oUUUXrsJL7c6TMQvkM5wvhbYBEZE7ceT08c9ZGmTB04/s200/177_057_resize.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076203497845106066" border="0" /></a><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span><span style="" lang="EN-GB">Josephine Baker, no better name for such a spaced idea: a floating pool in the </span><st1:place><span style="" lang="EN-GB">Seine</span></st1:place><span style="" lang="EN-GB"> river. The idea and the concept behind this object are so good that let you forget the many technical problems the pool has (forcing it to be closed quite many times in the year). Definitively worth the experience.<o:p></o:p></span>stefanohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11036396537485838981noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3869695179320487051.post-5799219182437091532007-01-19T23:08:00.000+01:002007-01-19T23:11:27.222+01:00Modern Times<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFSsciHsKlZUIWe4nhBWCDxI9r9Xx5uiVO3eg2lIbZvKeFdzdIumybaKlgWp7L_ekXtvQIsH0z2TjyHWI1Zzc-s7sfajVSM67F0o4Q4GqnypWZzshhBDLVF8qOMts4u8gqaKCSgMgGJwk/s1600-h/moretti-curva.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFSsciHsKlZUIWe4nhBWCDxI9r9Xx5uiVO3eg2lIbZvKeFdzdIumybaKlgWp7L_ekXtvQIsH0z2TjyHWI1Zzc-s7sfajVSM67F0o4Q4GqnypWZzshhBDLVF8qOMts4u8gqaKCSgMgGJwk/s200/moretti-curva.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021867497225967746" border="0" /></a><span style="" lang="EN-GB">“Do you know what I have been thinking? I have been thinking a very sad thing, that is that I, even in a society more decent than this, will always find myself with a minority of persons.”<o:p></o:p></span><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>stefanohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11036396537485838981noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3869695179320487051.post-78810833196316078582006-12-30T02:21:00.000+01:002006-12-30T02:25:41.092+01:00I wanted to be somebody<p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal">He was dramatic to the end - dying on Christmas Day. Almost a dramatic, poetic moment. He'll be all over the news all over the world today. He would have it no other way.<o:p></o:p></p> <p style="text-align: right;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: italic;">Rev. Jesse Jackson</span><o:p></o:p></p> <p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >This is a man's world, this is a man's world<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >You see, man made the cars to take us over the road<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >Man made the trains to carry heavy loads<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >Man made electric light to take us out of the dark<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >Man made the boat for the water, like Noah made the ark<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >This is a man's, a man's, a man's world<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >Man thinks about a little baby girls and a baby boys<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >Man makes then happy 'cause man makes them toys<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >And after man has made everything, everything he can<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >You know that man makes money to buy from other man<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >This is a man's world<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >He's lost in the world of man<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">He's lost in bitterness</span><o:p></o:p></span> </span>stefanohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11036396537485838981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3869695179320487051.post-67524056053827195012006-12-28T16:02:00.000+01:002006-12-28T16:08:02.470+01:00On the way back with Einstein<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAIcs_osxEmqf5hFzGbmdbfCHCVEvnrwVUWBLj3OEzaubVcTz_F-MRlXmP5-KEH7kc0106LglwdjPa6FOtkwBM9zv7Ivil3MtIpEOPUZPrqvLAzbhDpxD2y1U4owVR7VSEf0LZXahTg-Y/s1600-h/einstein.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAIcs_osxEmqf5hFzGbmdbfCHCVEvnrwVUWBLj3OEzaubVcTz_F-MRlXmP5-KEH7kc0106LglwdjPa6FOtkwBM9zv7Ivil3MtIpEOPUZPrqvLAzbhDpxD2y1U4owVR7VSEf0LZXahTg-Y/s200/einstein.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5013594656663443458" border="0" /></a><span style="" lang="EN-GB">Shanghai </span><st1:time hour="13" minute="0"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">1PM</span></st1:time><span style="" lang="EN-GB">, </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="" lang="EN-GB">Paris</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="" lang="EN-GB"> </span><st1:time hour="18" minute="0"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">6PM</span></st1:time><span style="" lang="EN-GB">, 34.000 feet. A long blue and orange twilight line lasts 3 hours. The wish that it would last longer is fulfilled.</span><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>stefanohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11036396537485838981noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3869695179320487051.post-59704319098743056922006-12-18T02:38:00.000+01:002006-12-29T10:03:52.287+01:00Sharing experiences<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDKHdG0oB5mxKJ8MEESdvULMyCBdb9Dcf-vVPfCYL0XUsIxNkjModNsZ6sDelpweTt3YwEdzGiaO3oPg24CwYPZu_-yVLiyRojNIuRt73eVv7MRqzmEZtRyNvhtElkjtpOXvGW2Euljw/s1600-h/blog-1218.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009675456056170466" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDKHdG0oB5mxKJ8MEESdvULMyCBdb9Dcf-vVPfCYL0XUsIxNkjModNsZ6sDelpweTt3YwEdzGiaO3oPg24CwYPZu_-yVLiyRojNIuRt73eVv7MRqzmEZtRyNvhtElkjtpOXvGW2Euljw/s200/blog-1218.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><em>With great disappointment of Ms. Lim recently and Mr. Fibonacci a very long time ago, today is December 18. The curve is getting steep. </em><br /></div><div><br />In a timeless world, would Salgari accept an invitation from Chatwin to leave for a trip with him in China? Or would Chatwin be pleased about writing his next words from a room of a shared apartment in Turin city center? Probably not. At the same time I keep <a name="OLE_LINK1">picturing </a>the fact that Salgari would love Chatwin writings and Chatwin would bring one of Salgari’s book during his next trip to Papua. They would for sure enjoy a Japanese massage after a punk concert in a mega Chinese city in December 2006; together or by themselves.</div>stefanohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11036396537485838981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3869695179320487051.post-72348882728142744912006-12-07T11:48:00.000+01:002006-12-10T01:35:13.180+01:00Building the trendline<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEierL2XcN1N4dpF-6k20Jiyt0pvq3n4TJbiUmxs-hZzkNwnposg7QJ1TPhBi3ETWiKyRQ5uSdbCql90YTAqBJ93K03clkfsTRfPqstOX3eB0aPUa37ormAv2zl40_9mEkkxfUjsxNkUCU4/s1600-h/167_284.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5006689970820012690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEierL2XcN1N4dpF-6k20Jiyt0pvq3n4TJbiUmxs-hZzkNwnposg7QJ1TPhBi3ETWiKyRQ5uSdbCql90YTAqBJ93K03clkfsTRfPqstOX3eB0aPUa37ormAv2zl40_9mEkkxfUjsxNkUCU4/s200/167_284.JPG" border="0" /></a>Already fighting to keep the trend line as low as possible : 3, 4, 7…….. still not decided whether next is gonna be on December 10 or 12. See the happenings. Actually I am not really good at having this thing start working and interpreting its role: a blog. May be I am too shy for it? Another simple excuse: no time. Going out again………..stefanohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11036396537485838981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3869695179320487051.post-84937914568329912062006-12-03T18:17:00.000+01:002006-12-03T18:27:31.009+01:00Getting to know each other<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNrsx1qhjysJ4zxNposJO4vY-ycdF_K38CUboi9E5Y_mKeFOMHGUEQAKgwuLmFFIPmug7iglDLwSz-oNk131Dp57TZyYHmM-gyt5yDLggd-ZTalxErs0NpbO2V3CspHCeItkusPxgA7N4/s1600-h/CameraConVista.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004351686309103538" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNrsx1qhjysJ4zxNposJO4vY-ycdF_K38CUboi9E5Y_mKeFOMHGUEQAKgwuLmFFIPmug7iglDLwSz-oNk131Dp57TZyYHmM-gyt5yDLggd-ZTalxErs0NpbO2V3CspHCeItkusPxgA7N4/s200/CameraConVista.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Fusion of languages, blog experiences, suggestions……… it moves !</div>stefanohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11036396537485838981noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3869695179320487051.post-56797573365391360122006-12-03T10:57:00.000+01:002006-12-03T10:58:29.269+01:00Before everything........<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It’s quite often like this: what for? Me too? Me never! So common, so stupid! Who cares? These fixed and irrevocable points led me to lastly spend part of this afternoon to finally register this bloody blog. Bloody because I am still so convinced about the so fixed points above listed. I’ll be definitely nicer to this blog in a few days, I guess, I don’t promise.</span>stefanohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11036396537485838981noreply@blogger.com1