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Explorations on the city: Milan now Dream


E' veramente, veramente complicato come mi sento io dentro Milano. Ieri sera percorrevo via Carlo Botta verso Porta Romana per prendere la metro, direzione Rogoredo. Sabato evening, almost time for dinner. At that time there are 2 New York: one that is getting ready to live the night "out" and getting ready to live the night "inside." Lighted windows are the eyes of the houses are heated by themselves. Lighted streets, local soft lights, metro stations, arcades, railway station are the shelters of those who live the night out. Of those who are open to the ancestral fear of not having a shelter and be devoured alive. Metropolis Milan is much more to me than others, for example in Rome. Why is more erratic, more northern, nearer to the idea of \u200b\u200bcold and dark. There's less harmony, the corners are sharp and separations, the emotions are clear and strong, with no way half. Rome is more conciliatory, more maternal.
So Milan is all that is happening outside, at night, a Saturday evening and a rocking Sunday slumber. Anything can happen out there while you are in transit, passing between two guys who do not belong to you.
Milan is the memory of the impossibility to exist, and nostalgia for transmutation, when you can be all or nothing, at the same time. It 's the heart transgressive and rebellious adolescence, which can not be contained in anything, but is desperately looking for something that contains it. Milan is a girl who cut, vomiting, and escaped.



24/9/06
La stazione è un crocevia dove si scontrano i destini di un sacco di gente, a volte per pochi attimi, a volte per ore, o per sempre. Guardi una persona, le senti pronunciare una frase e da lì ricostruisci, immagini. Un tossico mezzo sfatto che al telefono dice "Pronto, mamma..." e non pensavi nemmeno a quella parola in bocca sua, ha un sapore strano. Un bambino dai tratti peruviani, o colombiani, che ti suggerisce panorami da foresta amazzonica, o vedute andine, vestito all'ultima moda, con i jeans e la crestina ingelatinata.
Persone di mondi diversi che transitano qui, solcano i crocevia immaginari del caotico occidente, trasformano le metropoli in agglomerati faceless where differences are mixed and where all at the same time, there is. Leaving in the mouth the taste of anything.
The metropolis has the power to cancel the distance, to deny the separation but also to divert to the precipice towards moments of immense solitude, while compound split, undo and do coexist. The metropolis is a paradox alive, breathing. Milan is a metropolis that spreads and grows without form. Where everything is so close that they can tap into and then moves away to not see each other anymore.