I am in the process of cleaning up the clutter and starting new.
Notes and drawings of observations of my journeys re-appeared.
Opening boxes that I haven’t looked at for years.
Re-visiting the moments and memories. Old Bones re-emerging.
And so, right now, I am re-living the adventures I put myself into when I decided at young age to take off, leave Italy, leave home and my family. To go.
That deep need to be free, to explore, to learn new languages, new cultures, to meet new people and be in a new environment. To cut away from the life I had before, with its old beliefs and limitations.
To dare and to try things and ways of living that I was told were not possible.
Or I couldn’t make a living with.
Like be a dancer.
I love a bit of challenge and that is what drove me to take, again, that 30 hours train’s journey across Europe and the North Sea to finally arrive at Victoria Station in London that gray and cold Saturday morning of April 16th 1983 with my friend Maggie.
This time for good. I knew it.