Water: my favorite alchemical substance

mareWater. You just might be my favorite alchemical substance (Please don’t tell fire I said this). You are so pure, clear. They say you are a purifier, though instead of annulling memory, energy and residual emotion, you communicate them I believe. You fall from the sky in a torrent of rain curiously mixed with hail and the sun shining in daylight, like you did today before being ritually celebrated in the wooded area of Damjl with prayer, water fountainSacred Dance and flute, honoring your sweet presence on the earth, your gift of life on this planet and beyond.

You come down and bring with you like a chalice stories and memories, written in your molecules so beautiful and symmetrical, hydrogen on this side, hydrogen over there. You are a brilliant storyteller, the author of jokes for telling after midnight and the most tender fantasies before dawn, fallen to my skin, you enter within me, whispering all of this hidden history, within my cells that nourish themselves with you, absorbing your invisible vitality.

Thermal waters, water from the sea and ocean, faucet water that is newly potable again, I feel honored to take you in every time I drink from my bottle. You become my blood. You are a part of me, sixty percent to be precise.

L’acqua. Forse sei la mia sostanza alchemica preferita (non dirlo al fuoco ti prego). Sei così pura, limpida, ti chiamano una purificatrice, ma più che annullare memoria, energia, emozione residue, le comunichi secondo me… Continue reading



Gargano. your waters have a special vibration of some kind, an almost audible melody. I can feel it when I wade into the gentle waves, sand dispersing in an underwater cloud with every step, and I know that it’s not just the purifying effect of the sea, but something invisible, a history to be told, sweet, subtle, feminine magic. floating free without destination, I look around and gaze at a heavenly sky with Pangolinesque clouds, Orango diving from the rocks, Civetta Bianca close to the water’s edge chatting with Pellicano, Goral searching for a lost child’s slipper, a strategically positioned sandcastle constructed by the kids. and in the distance, blurry without my glasses, the green tent with the yellow flag and the pink one, transforming a summer scene into a territory time-space, one that is ours, conquering it with intention, directed thought, the will to return – in this synchronic squad with tribal numbers – to a kind of purity. enchantment. enthusiasm. a living people, creative, ignited by love, sun, life.

Gargano. le tue acque hanno una vibrazione particolare… Continue reading