It came to my mind yesterday, as I was driving, so I went to check it in the evening: the twentieth anniversary of my first poetry has just passed by.
Nothing important, just a personal commemoration.
So I went to resume and browse my diaries where I wrote down my poems, my thoughts, my stories (before I started using the computer ...).
I peeped here and there, re-reading something, browsing the pages of memories: in those three diaries dusted and yellowed by time, there is almost half of my life.
There are the years of rebellion, or the delirium-years as I like to call them, when I was trying, at all costs, to find a place in the world.
There are my victories, my defeats, my dreams and my questions.
There are some women, some who have been able to fill even more than one page, some else just a few lines.
There are my mountains, intimate and faithful friends, and my leaks in Nature, as an unstoppable need in all these years.
Twenty years of my life in my hands…
And while I was browsing my past, year after year, images, people, sensations and “smells” kept coming back to me, as heavy baggage of all memories I carry always with me.
And I came to think about the thousands pictures I took in all these years, overlapping them mentally with the things I read.
And I was thinking, what is the most beautiful thing I've ever written? And which is the most beautiful photo I've ever taken?
Impossible to put them in a ranking, I just can’t do it: some are beautiful, at least personally, and I like some others just for the memories they bring (good or bad, it doesn’t matter); I even hate some others, as far as they are, and I was, from what I have now become (but which was, however, essential in the process of my maturation).
Which is the most beautiful of all?
None, maybe, because it always seems to me that it miss the right word, that sentence, that detail not properly focused...
And therefore, the most beautiful of all will be what I will write, or I'll take in the future.
Eternally dissatisfied, I know, but by my choice, if this helps me to grow, to seek, to live...