A blank page lays before me. A pad of paper. It is a virtual space, but the fact remains that it is, empty. An invitation: to fill it with your word, what I love, what it represents to me. It seems easy: think, write and paper becomes marked signs that reflects part of my life, which is made known to others, reviews that make up a tiny box, part of the enormous puzzle of our universe. Colouring, through words, the target of the page.
But the simplicity of the request is quickly transformed into an intrigue of thoughts, semi-philosophical reflections, in a swirl of reasoning that can easily lead to a vacuum, answers to questions that may undermine the tranquility of our daily lives. I try to keep my feet firmly placed on the ground! Specifically my life is painted in primary colours: friends, books, work, daily contact with adolescents and their problems and stories, with occasional trips, my family, memories of countries I have visited that have left an indelible mark on my life through pictures of unusual places and faces marked by a smile or tears. All very colloquial, you can even reflect the uniqueness of life depending on a look, the next observation. But I am again walking away from the assignment. Find a beginning a thrill to share! 
The feeling of walking through Assisi, in November, when the city empties of the noise of the tourists and returns to its normal dimensions. When in the municipal plaza you find the woman who has gone to buy bread for lunch and asks her neighbour if it will rain tomorrow. When the profile of the Temple of Minerva is confused with the medieval houses. You can admire this while taking a coffee, without a sea of heads looking at the majestic Roman columns absently, thinking of the gifts you have to take back for friends who are at home, contemplating the route to reach the next destination. 
When you can feel the whisper of the stones echoes of distant voices that are lost in time: the voice of a little man who shouts the joy of walking in the rain, finding the flowers, which help numb the everyday hassles of life. Rediscover the beauty of a city emerging from the mists of the plain to dominate the space. 
The village of Assisi suddenly comes alive and transmits new sensations. It is no longer a backdrop for a journey made countless times. WRITTEN BY SUSANNA MARESCA 
The feeling of walking through Assisi, in November, when the city empties of the noise of the tourists and returns to its normal dimensions. When in the municipal plaza you find the woman who has gone to buy bread for lunch and asks her neighbour if it will rain tomorrow. When the profile of the Temple of Minerva is confused with the medieval houses. You can admire this while taking a coffee, without a sea of heads looking at the majestic Roman columns absently, thinking of the gifts you have to take back for friends who are at home, contemplating the route to reach the next destination. When you can feel the whisper of the stones echoes of distant voices that are lost in time: the voice of a little man who shouts the joy of walking in the rain, finding the flowers, which help numb the everyday hassles of life. Rediscover the beauty of a city emerging from the mists of the plain to dominate the space. The village of Assisi suddenly comes alive and transmits new sensations. It is no longer a backdrop for a journey made countless times. WRITTEN BY SUSANNA MARESCA