There are days when the world will see simply scroll away, even without being in motion. You realize you need to stay a bit with yourself, even if a nice cup of tea with friends not failing. You feel that fear, obsession or worse the doubt knock at the door for too long. And you have to find an antidote for Sun and joy every day to fight all this. A serialized story about a young woman in search of an author to ensure that his story makes sense and body, and it can be painless … Are rare writers who can write at the peak of joy. Literature and music are a worthy try.
Try to rediscover the creativity in inventing a bit each day, writing the recipe for this young girl in love of nature and oriental arts, which never fails to remind all distant calligraphies. Seem like small works of art hidden in memory as a mist, struggling to thin out. The mist you see from a moving train in the countryside to the city.
I wonder if even the butterflies make more effort in the fog to find the way to be born if their cocoons are not disturbed by the winter so cold and discolored sometimes.
The young man was trying to imagine a butterfly whose wings had the nuance of the first snowfall on the peaks of the Alps and at the same time the gleam of the morning mist. A butterfly that is formed with the colors of winter without knowing the world of colors that will meet just born, and only 3 days to live it fully. Who knows what flowers will dream and will try and which will meet.
Nonetheless a wonder. A beautifully prepared as a gift from winter, that surprise even this young, now so confused, perplexed and tired of the lack of new colors. Benedetta impatience. Fortunately, everything passes.