In my lonely only child of the sixties, for I had not seem clear to sharpen our wits. So no one had the passion to entertain the kids in every single minute of their existence, let alone fill the afternoons for those of all levels. My parents, though grateful to fate for granting them a daughter and have biological fertility clock was about to pull the last breath, did not care anything that bored me, even I do not think that there was the possibility to feed such a concern, so do not you dreamed of behaving like leaders of a village Valtur. After school I came home and, if weather conditions do not get you in the courtyard, I walked in the room, in full confidence that it was right and that it was sacrosanct. I could play in my room and read or do homework, everything at my leisure, in any order, without undergoing pressure or to be monitored. Now I'm pretty sure was perhaps for this reason that just after lunch (then she left school at 12.30) I opened the folder and I immediately put them in those blessed tasks. I wanted to take them off stomach if I did I would not be able to enjoy the evening because if there was one thing that bothered me more than anything in the world was the possibility of being scolded by the teacher. As long as the tasks were finished I was in the grip of a malaise that stemmed from the fear that something would happen that would prevent me from doing it. Who has time do not wait time: this warning began to haunt me a child and I still do not spring (Sit down, but nothing).
After the tasks and before the TV boys I liked to read, but above all to draw. And it is around seven years that I started the "beastly game" which, as evidenced by the adjective, immediately understood what I was far from unlucky for doing good than Pollyanna. The game was simple but requires great powers of observation and a good body of knowledge specific was to find in the vast universe of animals, including reptiles, amphibians, birds, mammals, insects, the consideration of people I knew. In front of me a sketchbook and Natura Viva (systematic Encyclopedia of the animal kingdom, Vallardi publisher) and I thought I thought of the faces that I had known (the grocer, the doctor, the janitor, the pharmacist, the hairdresser, the nun who sell asabesi oratory) and then thumbed through the thick volumes in search of double quadruped, biped, invertebrate or fish bones and fins. When I found what he was doing in my case I copied it using colored pencils and then, in the finished work, a block in the uncertain early years and then gradually improved graphics, write the name of the person and the picture looked like this which (or so it seemed). The album the designs was a secret. I never knew if I hid my nanny (see post about "On the phone with Mary Poppins, February 19) or my parents or all three to have peeled or if somehow they were informed. Who knows where that album, I'd have it again, for portraits and a fragment of the girl who I was, that certainly there is still entangled. But so be it. I think I stopped around nine years to paint over my characters vaguely Kafkaesque (the human characteristics are intertwined, fused and confused with those of animals-look-alike), while I have continued unabated in the years to deal (with imagination) of bestial associations. E 'stronger than me, almost an automatism: in line at the supermarket, queuing at the traffic lights in the bakery queue, queued to the vet and can not be read anywhere but in return, there will be great to get bored I look at faces of the people, then I browse the archives mental, which is neatly ethological my knowledge, and a beak amen similarity. I must say that lately I've come to a couple of pelicans. Those were years that I could not see. Then this morning the shock. During the time when I went to and back from the store by bike, I have closed and shipped to a piece (on the face of a national holiday), I called daughter to know how he is (bad, vomiting still a lot), I put antibiotic drops in the ears of Mrs. Luisa (which has fixed otitis worse than a child's first year of kindergarten), putative Future Grandpa got up, he made the coffee has sown peppers tomatoes and its virtual farm ( che.dio.facesse.andare.in.malora.tutto.il.raccolto ). Then in the next period of time when I had a shower, I washed, dried and brushed Gino; removed from the ground a little 'hair with Elf, putative Future Grandpa began to dress. This has not yet completed the operation (while I started and finished this post).
HO WHO GOT 'And the latter figure (not yet dressed!) Confirmed the discovery: a Bradypus variegatus.
ps maybe one day I'll write a memoir : My Life with Sid
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