pierpaolo's birthday

sometime ago, i wrote a poem about the love of a mother. In all the best cases, no matter what words i use, i don't think i can ever really describe what it is about a mother's love that knows no bounds.

i met orietta the very first day roland became my roommate and instantly i loved her. i knew she was a real person - i felt it. it emanated from her very smile, her soft touch, even from her bright, blonde hair.

a couple of months later, i met her son, pierpaolo who, i believe, is a boy of 8, but also a man, in all aspects. his charisma is one that pervades into the air, as does his intelligence.

so when orietta came to me asking for help so that she and husband andrea can throw him a surprise 8th birthday party, of course, i had to say yes. after all, all i had to do was be there.

i thought of doing the poster for him, though which came out really fabulously. But, all the rest, was Orietta's and Andrea's. They are just the loveliest parents. I wish them all the best.

Quello primo, quello mio

He said, Youre late.

I know.

The park was empty that Sunday afternoon. There were benches that lined the perimeter of the imprisoned sandbox.
He sat on one. I, on another. I wasn’t sure whether he wanted me to sit beside him.

The seesaw was still, one of its end jutting out straight up like a sinking ship.

The swings, its chains noticeably rusty even from where we were, slightly shivered.

He said, Its always empty.

This park? I asked.

Yeah. Me and my friends come here a lot, though.

Do you have good friends? I asked.

Yeah, he answered.

He asked, Do you like YOUR friends?

I said, I guess. I don’t really have much time to hang out with them.

Oh.
He said, That must really suck.

I smiled.

I said, Yeah. It really sucks.

╔

He asked, Do you like comics?

I do.

Really? He smiled. Which one’s your favorite?

Xmen, I said. Hands down.


No way! He exclaimed. I like the Zany Zapster better.

What? I exclaimed in disbelief. You can’t possibly like him over the XMen!

I don’t like their costumes! He said, They look dorky.

Okay then, I agreed. Don’t worry, I’ll bring some next time. You’ll see. You just gotta read some of their cooler stories. There’s one when they all fight Apocalypse and then Angel becomes his servant, and oh! The Phoenix Saga and the – What?

Nothing, he said.

You were looking at me funny, I said.

No, he replied.


You’re not like other grown-ups are you? he said, more than asked.

You can tell? I snickered.

Right off the bat, he said.

Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I wanted to know.

Good, he smiled. Definitely good.

I smiled back.


╗

You know, he said, I have this dream about you.

Have? I asked.

Well, yeah. I keep having it, you see. I dream the same dream.

That’s a recurring dream, I told him .

Oh, he said. He repeated the word. Re-cu-r-ring.

So what’s the dream about? What do I do in it? I asked.

Nothing, he said. You were just standing there, and it was dark and I really couldn’t see your face. Then it starts to get light, but before I could see you, I would always wake up.

I didn’t know what to say.

What do you think it means? He asked.

It could mean a lot of things, I said. A lot of different things.

I do know, however, I said, looking at him, You won’t have that dream tonight.

How do you know? He asked.

I grinned. I’m here with you right now, aren’t I?

╚
I think I have to go, he mumbled.

So soon? I asked. I checked my watch.
Oh. It is getting late. Sun’s almost down.

It’s because you were late. He said. That should teach you a lesson next time.

I laughed. Yes, it did.

It was nice meeting you, he said.

I knelt down, hoping to hug him.

He held out his hand.

I nodded, settling instead for the handshake. You seem like a great kid.

He looked down at his shoes.

They were blue.

He started to walk away.

A few steps.

Then he looked back.

Dad? He called out.

I wanted to jump. Scream. Laugh. Shout.

Yes? I calmly asked.

He smiled at me. You won’t be late next week, right? I mean, if you want to come again.

I’d love to! Of course! And hey, I’ll bring some of my Xmen stuff over, okay?

Cool! He yelled, running. I’ll bring Zapster.

Pause.

He called me Dad.

Pause.

Cool.

╝



CHILDREN OF THE ATOM

IN MEMORY OF
15iv03.

....it was the hardest thing i had to accept...that i couldn't have HIM... i so wanted YOU. know that. even if you weren't born, you're still mine...

someday

love the song!

NIGHTflights

sunday, 2 a.m. taken while sketching Unplaceable Kris.

I LOVE MY ROOMMATE RO. HE KNOWS THIS. WE'RE SORT OF LIKE SISTERS. BUT SHE'S ALWAYS ON ME TO GO OUT AND HAVE FUN WITH THE REST OF THE KIDS, AND WELL, IM JUST NOT LIKE THEM.

WHERE THEY WOULD BE HAPPY GOING TO THE DISCO OR THE SAUNA, I WOULD BE EQUALLY HAPPY COOKING FOR MYSELF A NICE DINNER OR TAKING A WALK IN THE PARK, OR JUST HAVING A NICE CHAT WITH A GOOD FRIEND OVER TEA, OR WINE AND CANDLES.

WHERE THEY WOULD BE PRESSED OUT TO MEET NEW PEOPLE, TO GET DRINKS AND PARTY, I WOULD BE TINGLING WITH EXCITEMENT TO WATCH A MOVIE OR LISTEN TO SOME GOOD SLOW MUSIC.

WHERE THEY WOULD BE PROWLING FOR THE NEXT CONQUEST, I WOULD BE GAZING OUT MY WINDOW HOPING THAT EVEN THOUGH I AM WAITING FOR NOW, THAT ONE DAY WHEN I WOULD FIND SOMEONE OF MY OWN TO LOVE AND WHO WOULD LOVE ME BACK WOULD COME TO PASS.

MAKES ME THINK BACK TO A STORY I WROTE A YEAR AGO. OF WHICH, THE DESIGN IS NOT YET FINISHED. (HENCE, THE PICS ABOVE)

IT GOES:

THE UNPLACEABLES.

by Cris Garing

There was once a family of fairies whom everyone in the fairy kingdom called the Unplaceables.

They were Father Unplaceable, Mother Unplaceable, the Unplaceable twins Ori and Ro and the youngest - Unplaceable Kris.

Everybody called them the Unplaceables. No matter where they went, everyone knew who they were.

They have traveled from North to South, East to West.

They've looked from forest to glades, river to sea.

They've turned every rock, every pebble, searched every tree and bush.

And they still haven't found one.

You see, it is because of this that the Unplaceables are called what they are called.

Nobody cared much about the Unplaceables.

And the UNplaceables didn't care much for anybody else.

That is,

Except Unplaceable Kris.

Well, i'm gonna have to cut this real short until i finish with the designs.

I keep thinking...

Maybe right now, it's okay being UNPLACEABLE.

So i spend my nights writing and working, drawing and dreaming and gazing out my window when i should, in fact, be dancing and living the life.

I have a friend who still has to go through these things. To find out who he really is. I myself have partied and lived that particular lifestyle already, and it doesn't mean i already know who i am or what or who i want.

My grandmother Georg always said, "in life, you will always wonder. And that's good. EVen with all your questions, and doubts, just continue to share yourself to others. You have a weak heart, the doctors say. BUt i know, i feel it. You have the strongest heart of us all."

(Georg, i miss you like mad. MY heart still beats. It still stops. It's still weak. And it's still strong. )

So i tried. And still here i am.

It'll be okay. Things have a way of working themselves out one way or another.

FOR THE KICKS

lost innocence.

hmmmmm... my friend Jayce (miss you, dearie! Hate that you're going to Bakersfield for XMAS!!! Say hi to Mika and Blake for me) egged me on to join this metro global photo contest. So here i post all 5 entries to the contest.

la solitudine. 07

perfezione.07

And so I have. And since Jayce's favorite color has always been red, i decided to enter the thing with photos that has red as the dominant colour.

diversità.07

Here's to you, dear friend. You've always looked out for me and never once have you let me down. I miss us four - you , me, Mika, Blake. We're all in different parts of the world now, but home will always be where you guys are.

come quando eravamo piccoli. 07

aftermath of letting go

I was walking last night and all around me, i kept seeing signs of it.

People together, couples holding hands, embraces, arms around shoulders, knowing smiles, heart at home.

Love. I don't really like writing about it, but here it is. It presented itself to me last night so clearly that there is just no way around it, no way to follow my own rules of not writing about it, thinking about it, dwelling on it, because after all, what is it but air, wind, god. things we cannot see, we can only fathom.

The way it was evident last night makes you wonder. It's here, it's true people feel it have it know it taste it keep it. Then why do so many feel so lost and so...wanting. If it were so easy to have, to realize, to know, why is it so difficult to believe?

Some people fall in love, at first sight, they say. Some after, some see it right off - that possibility, others not so quick, they can't see what's right in front of them or under their noses until it's gone, drifted away and owned by someone else.

MIllions of people. If you keep searching for the right one, that would mean you would search your entire life and beyond, without ever finding it. If you settle, is that bad? or is it actually realizing that your needs of love, CAN be met, if you yourself allow love to enter whole and untouched.
NOt edited like they do in movies. NOt cropped like they do with photos.
Whole.

Some wait for it, others think they're not ready and yet they entrap themselves in confusing complicated fucked up messes. But when they finally say they are, it becomes a bigger mess.

And for some, they just never find it. I feel the unravelling truth about where i fit. Does it scare me?

I was walking without actually knowing where to go.
I am writing this without actually knowing where I am headed.

Maybe that's it.
That's the point of it all.
There is none.
Damn.