4/15/16

Inexplicable nonsense from my childhood




translation: ''In Papertopoli, that before was a district, a duck and a rat have sons. As the time passes, the family becomes a gang, and the folks are half duck and half rats.''
ratduck1: ''That's fine here'' 
ratduck2: ''A lot''

It's the beginning of a cartoon I never continued. It would have been interesting to see history  developing with such beginning..


4/13/16

A Prophet's Tale, II episode

Yes! At the end it just happened: the pig ate the Prophet. Nobody can impose respect or empathy to the Nature of living beings: he was hungry, and its imperfect body needed anything to eat, didn't matter if it was the holy body of a Prophet.  However I would clarify: the pig did it with respect, saving the holy head.

Days passed, and just when the pig started taking in consideration to eat Prophet's head too, the boat landed in a weird place, snow covered, full of signals of a pagan, cruel population everywhere, but empty of people.

Finally after wandering for hours, the pig found somebody: unfortunately for him, not people so open to dialogue. 

In front of a sumptuous banquet, waiting that pork's meat would be ready, these weird people were surprised to hear prophet's head applying to them: he announced, talking in their own language:
''If you will follow in me, I will give you the freedom''

TO BE CONTINUED...

4/6/16

Skizzo's face (?)


Very few persons know the real face of Skizzo. 
May be this one, indicated by the yellow bolt?
An heavy truth is hidden behind the eyes of this freaky child.

A problematic child


I repeate: skizzobarocco isn't autistic. He was just a problematic child.
Affected by megalomania and and ill frenzy in projectation, being 8 years old, he projected
immaginary palaces, for immaginary princes and nobles, the clients he always dreamt. 


Having not any idea about perspective or architectonic composition, he invented from nothing an odd style, that somebody may considere kitsch. It's stunning the presence of 'orror vacui' in all surfaces, gathered with endless spaces, framed by far series of cypresses and fountains.
  
Such fantastic architectures are for me an infinite source of ispiration. At a first glance it may appear as a random mixture of baroque decorations, but watching carefully we get a sort of wild armony, that speaks directly to our irrational part.

4/2/16

The 'Caste'

It was five years ago, and in Italy the situation seemed be the worst ever. Through corruption and scandals people slowly got that there was borning a sort of 'Caste' of rich and unpunished individuals. Nobody suspected that it was only the beginning..  


It happened that I just started finding politics interesting: people destroyed by vices, by bad habits and arrogance, used to consider other's lifes as means for their increasing EGO, have very expressive faces.   Every line of their fat bodies is an indelible mark of their faults.

These drawings are preparatory studies for 'Study of obese persons in movement'.
You can find it at this link:     Studio di obesi in-movimento

4/1/16

A Prophet's Tale

The Prophet was born and grew up in a little city of a pagan island.  He was a devoted and modest person, and he hated to be in the center of public attention.  He just devotly washed bishop's feets, as the law wanted.  The bishop was a very important and generous person, and all island's unhabitants respected bishop's honor. The bishop, secretly, loved the Prophet.


Somehow, the prophet felt happy. At those times, in the island, all people were addicted to the deepest corruption, of soul and body: everyday the little town's rest was disturbed by murders and rapes: importance of human life was very low.  One day, the prophet drunk a bottle of wine.  This was a serious insult of the law, and then the people took him to prison.


The bishop, using his influence, got the freedom of the Prophet, but on one condition: the prophet had to leave the island, in fact people were too angry for tolerating him anymore.  The Bishop gave him a boat and a pig, and blessed him sweetly, knowing that he wouldn't see him never more. 


Many days flyed since the boat left the island, and the sea started be angry. Hours passed slowly, and the pig continued watching Prophet's body in a weird way.  The Prophet didn't know if being worried or quiet.. anyway, what he could do? 

TO BE CONTINUED... 

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