Long coats and boots, roads shiny from the rain and wood fires, faces hidden under umbrellas, the horizon line blurred in the mist, the snow and its silence, the sleepy cities, the cold wind on my face, the caress of a cruel lover, a cigarette that shines at dusk, and the carpets of leaves, the liberated beaches, the awakenings under the bed-covers, solitude. In the north wind that pushes pedestrians towards their homes, in the lights of a still open café, I like to walk, breathe, look. In winter’s arms I feel at home, I'm stronger, there’s more space for the soul and thought, there I find suggestions and wonderful stories, encounters are more rare and valuable, and the lover’s embrace is warmth and comfort, then the fog envelops me, altering the aspect of places too well known and carrying me to where it is easier to be, away, unknown. Finally, after putting away my camera, I come back home, among my loves, happy. Welcome Bellinverno *Paolo Conte – La donna d’inverno



Ludovico Poggioli