Women Beach Bottomless

Maurizio Cucchi

Alessandra Palombo,

Iomare

, Genova, Liberodiscrivere, 2004 pp 7-10



The water course unfolds horizontally, as is curved round the planet that supports us. The
begging, suffered from sea to sea, requires the aid of a paddle-stick to push the waves of memory: that baggage of passions, thoughts and beating eligible, even if sometimes messy, to reveal us to ourselves that we get to know the essence of the self: "I try me in my sea / to see who I am."
Remo-stick are the most popular songs of the singer, or Theognis Akhmatova, as the reflections better engraved in the soul in motion of pilgrims, and even snippets of news or suggestions offered by some newspapers to protect our physical well-being.
The only one that is vertical in a rush of water meets the bottom inner sole area in which dew spirit in its desire to the Seventh Sea, where the paddle-stick, deposed, does not appear, nor longer needed, since salt-water and self-consciousness that make up one unit called Iomare.
The Seagull, flying cat, still looking for a sail or a Mendel for his hunger, but the research does not bind as well, neither seek more answers.
The geometry of the star and heart rate, need help to navigate the tribulation, is contained in a single sky without a prophet who wants to climb. The metaphor he wanders the sea in the plural, the collection of water to which saddled the name of the Almighty "Mari."
The evolution of the gallant life has its story in liquids, including that of clotted blood that sometimes melts and spreads in the mall laity of dedicated time devoted to discipline and religious respect. So the First Sea

spirit, unconventional and imaginative actor, breathes among the "uncombed hair" of a childhood in pose, then still conditioned by a motivated vanity: "change the frame of my breasts," he asks.
The first swim in the salt solution are lazy and slow, lined with sleep. But the "energy ecucalipto honey," master of possession, has the force of impact with patience awaiting the feminine: the embrace cosmic will, in unity of soul and body.
Then there is the rite of purification, as the entrance to a sacred enclosure, and the time to grasp the meanings that long for vital signs, return to "penetrate the weave of fate."

The "poet now blind eyes of the soul's good, and rejoices with ease wind undoes corollas flowers, locks of hair of the game running on the grass and down the valleys: Oh, the sea amniotic!, nostalgic tripping of every human being. The Second Sea loneliness and loss of reference points become far anguish, and the taste of sea and earth moving in the halls of the heart rather than the walls of the stomach. Meanwhile, the desire goes even beyond her looks, while people and things from a popular street circuit, which in this case is the Livorno time ago, stumbling and rolling sounds pleasing. In the Third Ocean

after clement seasons, the winter is raging, so that the spirit becomes a shot in the back of a gull, while "blue fish bursting ... no / drops of silver. " Here stands the ode to surfing, one of the most beautiful ever heard: a life on the old sailing ships and the sea: they are called Columbus or Dad is always brush ... The return to the island, the needle of the compass points the "rock" as the Elbe to Ithaca. In the Fourth Sea, in water fisherman, his voice giving the crabs, sponges, octopus: beats of claws, small puffs of lungs released, flashes of wings and splashes ... tinticcio dedicated inner expression. And they are alive and pulsating algae and boats, skiing and rock jetties, Velella and oil tankers, harbors and oceans. In the Fifth Ocean is lost, yes, but full body awareness as a boat that takes us "to you, water, / I offer my body, / to you, wave, play with your head, / to you, the sea / of submarines, all / off ". In the Sixth Sea, the light vibrates el'intreccio fiber and meanings suffered and operated by assiduous fingers. There is talk, finally vibrant, and the beautiful image of an act of love: "A lighthouse and the moon to kiss in the dark, / the waves to roll off the drops."
In the Seventh Sea is the catharsis, the fulfillment of the spirit that had made the move. The abandonment of "the singing of the wind / Voice of the Sea": the woman of the island, any island as a place defined and separated, it is here designed with rich images of a living sacrifice, to be Person: changing the wave makes it look, but she is not moving.
Do not miss the conclusion of this music in the water: the Post Scriptum, Do that which comes after the ascent of the seven notes, and does start the cycle again, evokes hope and resurrection. Coffee and pastries are an early reference that delivers comfort, and the interweaving of meanings, however, takes place beyond the state-sensitive, when the horizon of his own inner life knows neither high nor low when the master receives Iomare dimensions and consciousness.

Manrico Murzi

Genoa, June 4, 2004