But Vincent is a man’s name, ain’t it?
This was the question we were wondering while waiting to see her gettin off the metro. We were three of us waiting for her, other than me, a friend and obviusly Grigio, the wolf.
Anyway my relationship with the english isn’t so good, i would likely not know it could be use also as female, and even if it could be used as female name, have any relevance this question? I’d say no, not today, not for me, noti f you are sticki waiting for a Polish model on Milan’s red metro. Her agent wrote me, she wrote me, i answered and here we are.
It’s rain, What a news.
But light will come back, and we will abuse it meanwhile lowland’ heat will make us melt. So far could seem that the undersigned wish to speak of the encounter with Vincent, but it is not. I just want to show you some frames of her, that’s all. Certain meetings, however, are incidental or, if you rather, they are the art of meeting vinicio’s style. I can not say how they happen, I just know that you are invited to think.
In a pathetic and rainy week end of easter in which you find yourself talking about the subtle link between photography and death, of what it means to injure the time with a film in order to soothe a pain, restore it with fragments of stolen goods, the fact that art does not take birth from the happiness and still, human relations, of hegemonic cultures, right or wrong, the foolish expectations, here in my attic it also rains Vincent.
Genoa. The attic is now called Genoa, suits her. Vincent is 22 years old, she travels around Europe couchsurfing and she knows exactly what she wants, she probably knows how to get it and how soon. Has no problem, raging from Genoa to my refrigerator and cooking in an Italian house, she has no problem relating and working (yep, i have written work. don’t hate me) in front of a camera. Vincent says, in an english that would make my mothertongue’teacher melt down, she has been lucky because her mother isn’t just her first fan, she ha salso grown her free of moralizing and religious dictates.
You can tell from her relationship with animals. Grigio, the wolf is amazed, he wonders if he’s in front of a fellow man. Giorgino, the bad-ass kitty and ladies man is head over heels in turn.
I have to do nothing, neither say something (it helps me a lot and saves me from petty fiture).
I have learned to be wary of those who do not love animals, there is always a reason. Now, I do not know exactly what i was talking about, oh yes, human relationships. Man is an animal.
This is a fact. If we take it intimately aware and we could get off the fake and falsehood humanist’s stand we all would live better. If you do not like it, okay, however you are animals and not because someone say so but because your generic code talks about it. And then when you meet people as far as sophisticated, cultured and evoluted they may be, they do not sin of such humanist arrogance then well you are fine. And there is nothing special to add except the images that follow.
And if you can’t get something of what you have read, you better know that I have no idea why I wrote it, it just came out alone.