<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795</id><updated>2011-04-22T05:34:00.817+02:00</updated><title type='text'>il giardino dai mille colori</title><subtitle type='html'>In questo giardino siete sempre i benvenuti. Qui potete camminare, correre e saltare. Riposare, ascoltare e raccontare. Raccogliere un fiore, mangiare un frutto o portare un nuovo seme.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-113239767783400020</id><published>2005-11-19T11:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-19T12:18:49.653+01:00</updated><title type='text'>ho traslocato</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/elfo_01.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/elfo_01.3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Salve!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aria nuova, mi sono trasferita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://viola8.iobloggo.com/"&gt;&lt;h3 align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;La foresta di Gaia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Sarò molto felice di accogliervi nella mia nuova stanza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Un abbraccio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;viola&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-113239767783400020?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/113239767783400020/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=113239767783400020' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113239767783400020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113239767783400020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/11/ho-traslocato.html' title='ho traslocato'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-113121701157706420</id><published>2005-11-05T19:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-05T23:21:42.676+01:00</updated><title type='text'>nuovo blog di Edera</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/Edera_and_Tenyel_by_Rugiada.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/Edera_and_Tenyel_by_Rugiada.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Rullo di tamburi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Udite! Udite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OGGI E' NATA LA PRIMA STANZA DI EDERA'SWORD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://consigliereedera.splinder.com"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;the garden of darkness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il Consigliere di Omphalos, Arcanum e Andedios risponde!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"chiedete se volete sapere,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;ma non aspettatevi ciò che vorreste sentirvi dire"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-113121701157706420?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/113121701157706420/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=113121701157706420' title='5 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113121701157706420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113121701157706420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/11/nuovo-blog-di-edera.html' title='nuovo blog di Edera'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-113105964123183784</id><published>2005-11-04T00:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-11-04T00:14:01.246+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/goccia4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/320/goccia4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;To One denied to drink&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;To tell what Water is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Would be acuter, would it not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Than letting Him surmise?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;To lead Him to the Well&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;And let Him hear it drip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Remind Him, would it not, somewhat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Of His condemned lip?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;**************************************&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;A Uno privato dal bere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Dire cos'é l'Acqua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Non sarebbe forse più grave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Che lasciarlo supporre?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Condurlo al Pozzo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;E fargli udire il gocciolìo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Non gli ricorderebbe, piuttosto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Il Suo labbro condannato?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Emily Dickinson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-113105964123183784?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/113105964123183784/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=113105964123183784' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113105964123183784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113105964123183784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/11/to-one-denied-to-drink-to-tell-what.html' title=''/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-113067911907737227</id><published>2005-10-30T14:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T14:36:47.986+01:00</updated><title type='text'>acqua</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/fulmini_sull-acqua_800.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/200/fulmini_sull-acqua_800.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;L'acqua é un elemento che mi é sempre piaciuto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Ho imparato presto a nuotare. Adoravo nuotare e tuffarmi in essa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Anni fa ho conseguito il primo brevetto sub... che meraviglia l'immersione. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Avevo la netta sensazione di entrare in un altro mondo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Sott'acqua tutto cambia. I suoni, la vista, i movimenti, persino i pensieri e le preoccopazioni svanivano per incanto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Poi qualcosa é cambiato. Mi sono allontata da te acqua.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Quasi ne fossi intimorita.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Certo fai parte della mia vita quotidiana... come potrei farne a meno?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Tu sei vita. Tu dai vita. Generi e rigeneri. Fai parte di noi, del nostro corpo. Ti usiamo. Ti sfruttiamo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Modelli. Trasformi. A volte crei morte e distruzione.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;A dipendenza del tuo stato, delle diverse forme, temperature e suoni ci regali sensazioni diverse e contrastanti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Amica, nemica.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Indispensabile. Spesso sottovalutata. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Ho così tanto da imparare da te.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-113067911907737227?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/113067911907737227/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=113067911907737227' title='4 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113067911907737227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113067911907737227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/10/acqua.html' title='acqua'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-113066975257793469</id><published>2005-10-30T11:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T12:21:11.446+01:00</updated><title type='text'>corazza</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/armatura.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/200/armatura.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;AIUTO!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Voglio uscire. Sto soffocando. Mi sento schiacciare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Urlo. Piango.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Mi dispero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Nessuno mi sente. Nessuno mi può aiutare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Questa corazza che tanto mi ha fatto sentire protetta, ora non la voglio più.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Ti ho costruita io.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Ho cominicato da bambina ed ho continuato negli anni.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Volevo avere un luogo dove potermi riparare e sentirmi al sicuro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Ti ringrazio, ma ora non mi servi più.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ho&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;bisogno di fare spazio.&lt;br /&gt;Mi vai stretta. Con te addosso non riesco a muovermi, sei troppo ingombrante e pesante. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Voglio camminare e per farlo ho bisogno di sentirmi più libera nei movimenti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Probabilmente non sarò in grado di toglierti in un giorno solo, m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;a voglio cominciare a liberarmi di te.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Ecco ora prova ad allentare la prima vite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-113066975257793469?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/113066975257793469/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=113066975257793469' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113066975257793469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113066975257793469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/10/corazza.html' title='corazza'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-113062841403846477</id><published>2005-10-30T00:15:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T02:16:27.876+02:00</updated><title type='text'>osservarmi... ma come si fa?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/me-dentro.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/me-dentro.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Chiudo gli occhi.&lt;br /&gt;Cerco di portare l'attenzione dentro.&lt;br /&gt;Come si fa?&lt;br /&gt;ASCOLTATI!&lt;br /&gt;Tristezza, malinconia, confusione...&lt;br /&gt;chi sono?&lt;br /&gt;GUARDATI!&lt;br /&gt;Già é da quasi 38 anni che vivo in questo corpo e non so chi sono veramente.&lt;br /&gt;Cosa mi porto dentro?&lt;br /&gt;Ma cosa ci sarà mai di così prezioso od orribile da rimanere così a lungo occulto?&lt;br /&gt;Perché faccio così tanta fatica a guardarmi?&lt;br /&gt;Proprio ieri stavo pensando che a volte faccio persino fatica guardarmi allo specchio.&lt;br /&gt;Tutto il tempo a scappare da me stessa.&lt;br /&gt;Fuggitiva.&lt;br /&gt;Ora sta salendo rabbia, molta rabbia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-113062841403846477?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/113062841403846477/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=113062841403846477' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113062841403846477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113062841403846477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/10/osservarmi-ma-come-si-fa.html' title='osservarmi... ma come si fa?'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-113015479827657212</id><published>2005-10-24T13:28:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T16:13:18.620+02:00</updated><title type='text'>adios</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/adios%20a%20las%20munecas2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/320/adios%20a%20las%20munecas2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Questa notte ti ho sognato.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ti ho rivisto dopo quasi un anno dalla mia partenza.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tra di noi c'era pace, serenità e rispetto.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ci spostavamo da una stanza all'altra, da un mondo all'altro, in sintonia, in armonia... le parole erano inutili.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il destino ci ha fatto incontrare. Ci siamo innamorati, ma il nostro amore era malsano.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Un rapporto di dipendenza, di violenza, basato sui sensi di colpa miei e tuoi.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ti ho amato, ti ho odiato. Ci siamo fatti del male. Mi hai fatto tanto male. Mi sono lasciata schiacciare, manipolare, maltrattare... stavo soffocando, stavo morendo, eppure non ero capace di lasciarti.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pensavo che con il mio amore avrei potuto salvarti, che sarei stata in grado di portare un po' di luce nel tuo mondo di tenebre. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ma poi ho capito. Io non ho questo potere. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sempre nel mio sogno ad un certo punto, te ne sei andato, sei scomparso dietro una roccia sulla quale ti sei arrampicato.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Una parte di me, avrebbe voluto chiamarti "ehi... dove vai?... senza neanche salutarmi", ma in quello stesso istante ho capito... e ti ho lasciato andare.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-113015479827657212?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/113015479827657212/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=113015479827657212' title='10 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113015479827657212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113015479827657212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/10/adios.html' title='adios'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-113006282615778737</id><published>2005-10-23T12:18:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T12:31:14.056+02:00</updated><title type='text'>emozioni</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/KAFKA1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/320/KAFKA1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Emozioni che mi fanno sentire viva, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ma che allo stesso tempo mi bloccano, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mi tengono ferma sul posto.&lt;br /&gt;Emozioni che mi aiutano a capire varie parti di me, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;ma troppo spesso accompagnate dal giudizio.&lt;br /&gt;Come distinguerle?&lt;br /&gt;Come riconoscerle?&lt;br /&gt;Come dare loro voce?&lt;br /&gt;Avvolte ed arruffate come in un gomitolo senza capo né coda.&lt;br /&gt;In loro balia, come in un mare in tempesta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-113006282615778737?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/113006282615778737/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=113006282615778737' title='3 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113006282615778737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/113006282615778737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/10/emozioni.html' title='emozioni'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112966344867927265</id><published>2005-10-18T21:10:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T21:24:08.686+02:00</updated><title type='text'>urlo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/urlo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/urlo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Dentro di me sento urlare.&lt;br /&gt;Si fa sempre più forte.&lt;br /&gt;È assordante.&lt;br /&gt;Straziante.&lt;br /&gt;Mi fa male.&lt;br /&gt;Chi sta urlando?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112966344867927265?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112966344867927265/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112966344867927265' title='3 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112966344867927265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112966344867927265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/10/urlo.html' title='urlo'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112947210023418422</id><published>2005-10-16T15:42:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T17:58:56.066+02:00</updated><title type='text'>frammenti di vita</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/Viaggio_nei_ricordi3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/320/Viaggio_nei_ricordi3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;È ormai mattino presto.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vado a letto.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chiudo gli occhi.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mi sento cullare, dondolare.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mi rivedo bambina sull'altalena a cantare e ricantare sempre la stessa canzone.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Immersa nel mio mondo, nelle mie fantasie.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mi viene un po' di nausea con tutto questo dondolio.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Riapro gli occhi. Li richiudo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sono in ospedale, cure intense.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mia nonna materna sta morendo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mia madre, mia zia, mio fratello ed io siamo attorno al suo letto.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Non sembra essere cosciente.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Continua a ripetere il mio nome: viola, viola, viola...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;non capisco io e lei non siamo mai state veramente unite.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mi giro nel letto.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Richiudo gli occhi.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Di nuovo bambina, non ricordo, 7 forse 8 anni.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mia madre é in ospedale.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mio padre mi vuole accanto a se nel suo solito riposino dopo il pranzo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quanto lo odio, quanto lo detesto.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mi sto innervosendo. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Perché la mia testa non si spegne... voglio solo dormire.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mi rigiro nel letto.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sto rotolando lungo una discesa d'erba.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mi gira la testa.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sono felice. Mi sento libera.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Poi un ragazzo di alcuni anni più grande di me mi afferra con determinazione&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;e mi blocca a terra con il peso del suo corpo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lui ride.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Urlo, scalcio, piango.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Leggo nei suoi occhi stupore e paura.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Allenta la presa e fuggo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Altri ricordi riaffiorano.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Piccoli frammenti di vita.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Confusi. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Veri? Falsi?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Li guardo, mi guardo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mi nego, li nego.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Finalmente mi addormento ed entro a far parte di un altro mondo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112947210023418422?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112947210023418422/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112947210023418422' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112947210023418422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112947210023418422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/10/frammenti-di-vita.html' title='frammenti di vita'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112906116461910749</id><published>2005-10-11T22:03:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T22:32:31.083+02:00</updated><title type='text'>confusione</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/tempo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/tempo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;c'é gran confusione dentro di me&lt;br /&gt;mi sento schiacciare&lt;br /&gt;mi sento tirare&lt;br /&gt;tutto gira&lt;br /&gt;tutto é fermo&lt;br /&gt;tutto si muove velocemente&lt;br /&gt;... mi sento lenta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;osservo&lt;br /&gt;guardo&lt;br /&gt;ascolto&lt;br /&gt;tutto avviene allo stesso tempo&lt;br /&gt;non capisco&lt;br /&gt;non posso capire&lt;br /&gt;niente ha senso&lt;br /&gt;c'é gran confusione dentro di me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112906116461910749?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112906116461910749/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112906116461910749' title='6 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112906116461910749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112906116461910749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/10/confusione.html' title='confusione'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112894698969911675</id><published>2005-10-10T13:09:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T15:03:49.526+02:00</updated><title type='text'>pensiero parlante</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/CREAZIONE-DEL-MONDO3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/CREAZIONE-DEL-MONDO1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Parole.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quante parole dette pensando di poter riempire un vuoto dentro di me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Altre nella vana speranza di riuscire a nascondere una parte di me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quanta inconsapevolezza, quanta incoscienza. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eppure hanno toccato, hanno mosso, senza che ne fossi cosciente.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oggi per la prima volta ho usato parole sapendo che sarebbero andate a colpire dentro e fuori di me, pur non sapendo esattamente dove e come.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ho voluto provare. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;C'é stato dolore, sensi di colpa, paura del rifiuto.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Poi però mi son detta "non é stato così difficile"... non mi rendevo conto che il loro effetto non era ancora finito. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Poche ore dopo questa persona é tornata da me con altre parole, mi hanno colpita nuovamente, altri sensi di colpa, altra sofferenza.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;La parola é come una pallina di ping-pong, che rimbalza da una parte all'altra. Una volta lanciata va e colpisce, creando una reazione, che a sua volta andrà a colpire qualcosa d'altro,... e così via... all'infinito? Non so... so che ovunque andrà colpirà e muoverà.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Che io usi la parola con responsabilità o no, non ha importanza per la parola stessa, visto che lei ovunque andrà farà il suo "dovere". &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ma ha un enorme importanza per me, esprimendo il mio pensiero, avrò forse l'opportunità di vedere cosa questi pensieri, quindi parole, toccano, muovono e creano.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112894698969911675?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112894698969911675/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112894698969911675' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112894698969911675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112894698969911675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/10/pensiero-parlante.html' title='pensiero parlante'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112845186377217829</id><published>2005-10-04T20:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-04T20:51:03.776+02:00</updated><title type='text'>bugie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/bugia%20astronomica.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/bugia%20astronomica.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mi sono sempre reputata una persona onesta, sincera ed affidabile.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mai come oggi mi sto riscoprendo l'esatto contrario.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vuoi per interesse personale, vuoi per nascondere alcune parti di me,... ho spesso (o quasi sempre) trasformato verità in bugie, e bugie in verità.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;L'ho fatto così spesso e per lungo tempo, che ora non so più cosa é vero e cosa é falso.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Forse una verità c'é...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sono bugiarda...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ma domani già me ne sarò scordata e trasformerò questa verità in menzogna.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112845186377217829?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112845186377217829/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112845186377217829' title='12 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112845186377217829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112845186377217829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/10/bugie.html' title='bugie'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112836415343497879</id><published>2005-10-03T19:47:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-03T20:51:33.793+02:00</updated><title type='text'>carpe diem</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/attimo%20fuggente3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/attimo%20fuggente2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Preparati!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Eccolo, sta per arrivare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;È qui! Noooooo se ne é già andato...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;e non tornerà più.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Non ho saputo coglierlo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;non ho saputo viverlo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;non ho saputo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;non sapevo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;non dovevo sapere...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Semplicemente doveva accadare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112836415343497879?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112836415343497879/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112836415343497879' title='4 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112836415343497879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112836415343497879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/10/carpe-diem.html' title='carpe diem'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112816762624448749</id><published>2005-10-01T13:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-10-01T13:55:39.073+02:00</updated><title type='text'>voltare pagina</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/camminare%20scalza.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/camminare%20scalza.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;È da un paio di giorni che mi sento come attrappata in una pozzanghera di fango. Avete presente quando le scarpe rimangono bloccate nel fango che fa risucchio? Ecco esattamente quello. Se mi dimeno troppo e cerco di correre rischio di cadere o di perdere le scarpe. Ho deciso quindi di fermarmi per un attimo ed ascoltare. Ascoltare quello che sono in questo momento. Ascoltare i miei pensieri, le mie emozioni, le mie paure,... cercando di accettarli e sentirli fino in fondo, senza giudizio (fin dove mi é stato permesso).&lt;br /&gt;Paura a lasciare andare, sebbene una parte di me é cosciente che qualcosa sta già morendo o é già morta... per lasciare spazio a qualcosa di nuovo. Non so cosa esso sia. Non ha importanza. Ora per me é il momento di lasciare andare. Lascio quindi senza rimpianto queste mie scarpe bloccate nel fango, per camminare scalza... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112816762624448749?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112816762624448749/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112816762624448749' title='10 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112816762624448749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112816762624448749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/10/voltare-pagina.html' title='voltare pagina'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112774426696186325</id><published>2005-09-26T16:16:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-26T16:59:18.230+02:00</updated><title type='text'>farsi travolgere</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;La paura spesso ci fa aggrappare a qualsiasi cosa pur di evitare una caduta, o quello che noi pensiamo essere una caduta.&lt;br /&gt;In questo momento mi viene un'immagine abbastanza forte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Nuotare contro corrente in un fiume in piena. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quanta fatica e quanta energia sprecata. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Forse avremmo la possibilità di salvarci se ci lasciassimo trasportare dalla corrente. Potremmo trovare un momento adatto, magari l'unico, per sfruttare questa corrente e quindi poter uscire dal fiume.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p id"powered-by"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.forestadicedri.org/images/W-Onde1.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112774426696186325?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112774426696186325/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112774426696186325' title='11 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112774426696186325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112774426696186325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/farsi-travolgere.html' title='farsi travolgere'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112733995095895815</id><published>2005-09-21T23:40:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-21T23:59:10.966+02:00</updated><title type='text'>cuore</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/cuore.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/cuore.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Tum-Tutum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Il mio cuore batte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Arriva un pensiero&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;ed é come se si fermasse per un attimo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Una forte emozione&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;ed accellera all'impazzata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Lo sento in gola.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Il mio respiro diventa affannoso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Tutto il mio corpo batte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Respiro profondamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;più volte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;e ritorna a battere normalmente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Poi all'improvviso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;lo sento esplodere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Oh mio Dio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;il mio cuore é impazzito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;sta scoppiando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Posso morire...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;ORA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sono ancora viva!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ma mi fa male&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;lo sento pungere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;come se fosse trafitto da qualcosa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112733995095895815?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112733995095895815/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112733995095895815' title='13 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112733995095895815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112733995095895815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/cuore.html' title='cuore'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112714656701388693</id><published>2005-09-19T17:49:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T19:37:40.066+02:00</updated><title type='text'>acqua-ghiaccio</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/iceberg1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/iceberg1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/iceberg.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Acqua.&lt;br /&gt;Senza acqua potremmo sopravvivere solo per pochi giorni.&lt;br /&gt;Senza acqua tutte le forme viventi su questa terra morirebbero.&lt;br /&gt;L'acqua é vita.&lt;br /&gt;Il nostro corpo é composto in gran parte d'acqua.&lt;br /&gt;Eppure ho l'impressione che nel mio corpo non scorra acqua.&lt;br /&gt;Sento di avere un enorme iceberg al suo posto.&lt;br /&gt;È come se tutta l'acqua dentro di me si fosse trasformata in ghiaccio, non permettendomi di sentire emozioni vere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Acqua e ghiaccio sono la stessa cosa, si trovano solo in un differente stato. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vibrano su tonalità diverse.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;L'acqua scorre e con essa le emozioni. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Il ghiaccio blocca.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Sono all'affannosa ricerca di una fonte di calore che sciolga questa enorme massa di ghiaccio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Non voglio soffocarvi dentro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112714656701388693?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112714656701388693/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112714656701388693' title='8 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112714656701388693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112714656701388693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/acqua-ghiaccio.html' title='acqua-ghiaccio'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112687686736335612</id><published>2005-09-16T15:10:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T18:18:17.773+02:00</updated><title type='text'>ciao</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Questo fine settimana sarò assente.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ciao a tutti... a settimana prossima.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;viola&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112687686736335612?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112687686736335612/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112687686736335612' title='4 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112687686736335612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112687686736335612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/ciao.html' title='ciao'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112687589720638524</id><published>2005-09-16T14:55:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T15:46:15.696+02:00</updated><title type='text'>la mente</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/mente1.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/mente1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;La mente. Sono cresciuta con l'idea che l'essere umano fosse superiore agli animali perché ha una mente ed un'intelligenza. Ma é davvero così? Come la usiamo e in che percentuale la sfruttiamo? (vedi blog "l'altra scienza - link qui a destra).&lt;br /&gt;Per quanto mi riguarda, vi posso dire che l'ho spesso sentita nemica. Sempre pronta a giudicare e giudicarmi. Sempre attenta sui miei pensieri ripetitivi e ossessivi.&lt;br /&gt;Quante volte ho desiderato che ci fosse un bottone per poterla spegnere, anche solo per un attimo.&lt;br /&gt;Ma sono io la mia mente? O ci sono altre parti esterne al di fuori di me?&lt;br /&gt;Forse il mio errore é stato volerla combattere, invece di accettarla e magari usarla in maniera diversa.&lt;br /&gt;Ora cerco di non fermarmi davanti ad una risposta, cerco di andare oltre, pormi nuovi dubbi, muovermi in nuove direzioni.&lt;br /&gt;E se anche questo fosse solo un inganno, un'illusione creata dalla mia mente? Non mi resta che provare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112687589720638524?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112687589720638524/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112687589720638524' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112687589720638524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112687589720638524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/la-mente.html' title='la mente'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112678147200601951</id><published>2005-09-15T12:18:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-15T12:55:50.783+02:00</updated><title type='text'>occhi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/occhio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/occhio.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Questa mattina, passeggiando nel centro della piccola città dove vivo e lavoro, ho volutamente guardato negli occhi le persone che incontravo. Occhi tristi di una signora che passeggia con il suo cagnolino. Occhi indagatori di un taxista in attesa del prossimo cliente. Occhi allegri di una commessa che chiacchiera con la sua collega. Occhi annoiati di un signore che fuma una sigaretta al bar. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quante distanze fra me e gli altri. Sentire queste distanze e cercare di diminuirle mi ha creato molta emozione. Ho sentito un gran tonfo al cuore, un nodo alla gola é arrivato e lacrime di distrezza hanno bagnato i miei occhi.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quanto attendere in un angolino nella speranza che qualcuno mi notasse. Quanto sperare che qualcuno facesse un primo passo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ora so. Sta a me fare il passo. Sta a me diminuire le distanze.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112678147200601951?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112678147200601951/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112678147200601951' title='5 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112678147200601951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112678147200601951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/occhi.html' title='occhi'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112673829893053633</id><published>2005-09-15T00:24:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-15T08:03:56.146+02:00</updated><title type='text'>libertà</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/liberta1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/320/liberta1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Il commento di Michael ad uno scritto di Naima del 13.09.05, vedi link qui a lato "la custode delle chiavi",&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt; mi ha fatto riflettere. Avevo quindi deciso di scrivere un articolo su cosa significasse per me libertà. Dopo vari scrivi e cancella, scrivi e cancella, mi sono chiesta: quante volte nella mia vita mi sono sentita libera? Allora vediamo... ma se non so nemmeno descrivere cosa significhi veramente essere liberi, visto che ogni mia esperienza passata mi ha "marchiata" nel bene e nel male, creando filtri e pregiudizi, come posso sapere il significato di questa parola? Libertà. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Inoltre osservando la natura e gli animali, posso forse dire che sono liberi? Un albero é forse libero di far frutti o meno? Una formica operaia é forse libera di movimento? Forse l'unica libertà che mi rimane, sempre che di libertà si tratti, é di accettare che non ne conosco il significato, visto che non ho fatto esperienza. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112673829893053633?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112673829893053633/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112673829893053633' title='5 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112673829893053633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112673829893053633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/libert.html' title='libertà'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112664251044735973</id><published>2005-09-13T21:47:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T15:46:54.870+02:00</updated><title type='text'>illusione</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/catene1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/catene1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Osservando il mio nucleo familiare posso notare alcuni meccanismi che vengono tramandati da generazione in generazione. A volte non é sempre ovvio, poiché un determinato comportamento può aver provocato l'esatto opposto nella generazione successiva. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cercando di sciogliere un determinato comportamento, ho provocato qualcosa d'altro. Sono andata all'altro estremo. Da nero sono passata a bianco. Quindi non posso affermare di essere stata in grado di rompere le catene... anzi, probabilmente le ho rafforzate, dandogli un'altra prospettiva.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ho vissuto diversi anni della mia vita nella speranza di poter cambiare le cose. Nell'illusione di avere la possibilità di scelta. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Che ingenua sognatrice!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112664251044735973?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112664251044735973/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112664251044735973' title='10 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112664251044735973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112664251044735973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/illusione.html' title='illusione'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112655995883580635</id><published>2005-09-12T22:41:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T15:49:21.843+02:00</updated><title type='text'>piccola</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/Goccia_di_vita.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/Goccia_di_vita.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mi sento piccola, piccola così.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Come un granello di sabbia &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;in un deserto senza fine.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Come una goccia d'acqua&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;in un oceano dagli orizzonti infiniti.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Come un soffio di vento &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nell'occhio di un ciclone.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Come una fiammella&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;in un sole splendente.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mi sento piccola, oggi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ed è perfetto così.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112655995883580635?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112655995883580635/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112655995883580635' title='3 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112655995883580635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112655995883580635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/piccola.html' title='piccola'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112646804267049090</id><published>2005-09-11T21:26:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T15:47:58.163+02:00</updated><title type='text'>sincerità - menzogna</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/verit??"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/verit%3F%3F%20bugia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Collegandomi all'articolo precedente, vorrei proporvi un indovinello.&lt;br /&gt;Siete rinchiusi in una stanza.&lt;br /&gt;Ci sono due porte e due guardiani.&lt;br /&gt;Una porta vi conduce alla salvezza, l'altra alla morte.&lt;br /&gt;Un guardiano é sincero, l'altro bugiardo.&lt;br /&gt;Voi non sapete chi dei due sia sincero o bugiardo.&lt;br /&gt;Potete fare una sola domanda ai due gurdiani per poter scoprire la porta che vi condurrà alla salvezza.&lt;br /&gt;Quale sarà? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112646804267049090?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112646804267049090/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112646804267049090' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112646804267049090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112646804267049090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/sincerit-menzogna.html' title='sincerità - menzogna'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112646629303669548</id><published>2005-09-11T20:16:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T15:49:53.423+02:00</updated><title type='text'>due direzioni</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/i_pianeti_opposti_grande.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/i_pianeti_opposti_grande.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/i_pianeti_opposti_grande.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Un giorno mi sento buona.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Un giorno mi sento cattiva.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ho amato ed odiato la stessa persona.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ho coperto di bugie verità indiscusse.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e fatto vere calugne assurde.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ho dipinto di nero ciò che era bianco&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e dipinto di bianco ciò che era nero.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ho versato lacrime di gioia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e pianto lacrime di tristezza.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Due direzioni opposte.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Una verso destra e l'altra verso sinistra.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ma dove portano? Dove vanno?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Due direzioni opposte... forse simili&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112646629303669548?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112646629303669548/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112646629303669548' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112646629303669548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112646629303669548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/due-direzioni.html' title='due direzioni'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112638721711160633</id><published>2005-09-10T22:44:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-10T23:22:15.623+02:00</updated><title type='text'>parola-suono-vibrazione</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/vibrazione1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/vibrazione1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oggi ho ricevuto una bellissima lezione da un bambino di 10 anni, E. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mentre stava mangiando un panino dice "hai mai fatto caso che nella parola panino c'é la parola pane? Quindi dovrebbe essere pronunciata paneino" e comincia così a giocherellare con essa, scandendo i suoni di ogni singola lettera p-a-n-e-i-n-o", facendoli suonare più volte, studiandoli ed analizzandoli.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Per E. sicuramente non é la prima volta che sente o pronuncia questa parola, eppure ha avuto la capacità di stupirsene analizzandone le lettere ed i suoni.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Noi diamo per scontato qualsiasi parola che pronunicamo. Non poniamo la minima attenzione ai vari suoni e quindi alle varie vibrazioni emesse dalla nostra voce durante l'arco della giornata. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Possiamo però cominciare a mattere un po' più d'attenzione ad esse, per lo meno una parola al giorno, come descritto nell'articolo di Michael, "babele", nel blog "la realtà parallela". Ora ci riprovo.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Grazie E.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112638721711160633?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112638721711160633/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112638721711160633' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112638721711160633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112638721711160633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/parola-suono-vibrazione.html' title='parola-suono-vibrazione'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112630145484860314</id><published>2005-09-09T22:40:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-09T23:31:31.950+02:00</updated><title type='text'>parola</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/abc.gif"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/abc.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Penso che tutti conosciamo il detto "le parole possono ferire più di uno schiaffo".&lt;br /&gt;Oggi per la prima volta questa frase ha forse un significato diverso per me.&lt;br /&gt;Tutti sappiamo che le vibrazioni di un suono molto acuto può rompere un vetro.&lt;br /&gt;Pronunciare una parola emette dei suoni.&lt;br /&gt;Quindi questo significa che le vibrazioni dei suoni, cioé delle parole, vanno inevitabilmente a toccare parte di noi.&lt;br /&gt;Ma cosa vanno a toccare? La parte emotiva sicuro... pensiamo ad esempio ai differenti generi di musica (melanconica, ritmata, aggressiva,...) che tipo di emozione esalta in noi.&lt;br /&gt;Inoltre una parola pronunciata con un tono di voce dolce ed amorevole, provocherà in noi sicuramente emozioni differenti da parole pronunciate con rabbia.&lt;br /&gt;Ma se queste vibrazioni andassero a toccare anche qualcosa d'altro? Magari ad altri livelli?&lt;br /&gt;Inoltre, riagganciandomi ad un articolo di Edera dove spiegava il fenomeno "butterfly effect", non riesco ad immaginare quale effetto catena possa provocare una determinata parola pronunciata con uno specifico tipo di vibrazione.&lt;br /&gt;Mi rendo conto di non essere sicura di niente di quello che ho scritto, sono solo delle considerazioni che mi sono venute alla mente. Ma se fosse davvero così, che potere immenso avrebbe la parola. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112630145484860314?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112630145484860314/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112630145484860314' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112630145484860314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112630145484860314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/parola.html' title='parola'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112620940667384994</id><published>2005-09-08T21:30:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-08T22:05:15.056+02:00</updated><title type='text'>come un film</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/klee_citta-sogno4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/klee_citta-sogno3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Sono appena tornata da una passeggiatina tra i vari blog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Ho riletto alcuni scritti ed i relativi commenti. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Quante parole, quanti pensieri. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Quanti propositi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Quante paure, emozioni, verità, bugie,... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Alcune volte ho proprio la convinzione che la nostra realtà stia in piedi solo grazie a tutto ciò.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Ma vi rendete conto!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Nostro malgrado siamo dei grandi architetti ed abili costruttori. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Se veramente capissimo. Se solo ci rendessimo conto. Forse qualcosa cambierebbe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112620940667384994?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112620940667384994/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112620940667384994' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112620940667384994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112620940667384994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/come-un-film.html' title='come un film'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112613728647433858</id><published>2005-09-08T01:28:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-08T01:54:46.476+02:00</updated><title type='text'>muri</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/Muro.jpg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/320/Muro.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sono sul treno. Squilla il telefonino. È mio fratello maggiore M. "Ciao, é tanto che non parliamo, posso invitarti a cena?" . Entro in una galleria e cade la linea.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Tutto d'un tratto sento un tonfo al petto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sono molto fortunata. Accanto a me ci sono tante persone che mi vogliono bene. Un padre, una madre, 4 fratelli, nipotini, una grande famiglia. Eppure mi sono spesso sentita sola, molto sola.&lt;br /&gt;Da bambia ero taciturna e solitaria. Trascorrevo lunghi periodi di mutismo. Ricordo ora una frase che mio padre soleva dirmi "un bel silenzio non fu mai scritto."  Forse era un tentativo per consolarmi. Forse intuiva la mia tristezza.&lt;br /&gt;Eppure io desideravo avere tanti amici come i miei fratelli. Avrei voluto tanto condividere il mio mondo con qualcuno. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;C'era qualcosa che me lo impediva. C'era qualcosa che mi bloccava. Non permettevo agli altri di interagire con me. Non so quando ho eretto grandi muri attorno a me che mi hanno e che tuttora mi tengono prigioniera.&lt;br /&gt;Mentre sto scrivendo questo scritto, sento una forte emozione nascere dentro di me. Lacrime scendono sul mio viso.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112613728647433858?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112613728647433858/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112613728647433858' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112613728647433858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112613728647433858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/muri.html' title='muri'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112602840396364033</id><published>2005-09-06T19:32:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T15:51:13.243+02:00</updated><title type='text'>silenzio</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/silenzio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/silenzio.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Silenzio.&lt;br /&gt;Silenzio assordante.&lt;br /&gt;Mi guardo dentro&lt;br /&gt;e sento un gran vuoto.&lt;br /&gt;Un vuoto immenso,&lt;br /&gt;infinito.&lt;br /&gt;Davanti a te&lt;br /&gt;mi sento così piccola,&lt;br /&gt;insignificante.&lt;br /&gt;Vorrei avvolgerti tutto,&lt;br /&gt;per farti star zitto,&lt;br /&gt;par farti parlare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112602840396364033?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112602840396364033/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112602840396364033' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112602840396364033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112602840396364033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/silenzio.html' title='silenzio'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112595748242613678</id><published>2005-09-05T23:42:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-06T01:59:39.140+02:00</updated><title type='text'>passaggi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/effetto%20abete.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/effetto%20abete.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Cito ora due frasi che ho letto oggi e chi mi hanno molto colpita.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;"Posto che sogniamo la nostra vita, dobbiamo interpretarla e scoprire ciò che sta tentando di dirci, i messaggi che intende trasmetterci, fino a trasformarla in un sogno lucido. Una volta acquisita la lucidità, saremo liberi di intervenire sulla realtà sapendo che se ci limitiamo a occuparci dei nostri desideri egoistici, saremo travolti, perderemo l'imparzialità di giudizio, il controllo e, di conseguenza, la possibilità di compiere un atto vero."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;CLIC. Per la prima volta ho forse veramente dubitato che la mia vita sia solo un sogno.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Sto forse sognando ora? La nostra vita "reale" é un sogno da interpretare? Forse é proprio così.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;D'altronde quando supero un mio limite o una mia paura, mi trovo ad osservare il mondo (orbis) da un altro punto di vista, come se fossi passata ad un'altra realtà. Che questi risvegli siano come dei piccoli passaggi? Passaggi per dove? In un'altra realtà-sogno? Sembro un gatto che si morde la coda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112595748242613678?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112595748242613678/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112595748242613678' title='2 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112595748242613678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112595748242613678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/passaggi.html' title='passaggi'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112585386251252713</id><published>2005-09-04T19:04:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T15:51:46.303+02:00</updated><title type='text'>specchio</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/specchio1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/400/specchio1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Esporsi. Svestirsi completamente e mettersi a nudo. Togliersi qualsiasi tipo di maschere.&lt;br /&gt;Quanta paura. Paura del giudizio. Paura di non essere all’altezza. Paura del rifiuto.&lt;br /&gt;Eppure è confrontandoci con altri che riusciremo a capire chi siamo veramente.&lt;br /&gt;Come possiamo sapere se siamo alti, bassi, magri, o grassi se non abbiamo nessuno con cui confrontarci?&lt;br /&gt;Paura di che cosa poi? Ho l’impressione che tutte le paure che ho elencato sopra, esistono solo dentro di noi. Vere sì, ma solo perché glielo permettiamo. Sono come dei grandi freni che non ci lasciano sperimentare.&lt;br /&gt;Ma al momento che decidiamo di andare verso queste paure, affrontandole, cercando di oltrepassarle, avremo fatto sicuramente un passettino avanti verso una maggior comprensione di noi stessi. Avremo la possibilità di confrontarci ed interagire con gli altri. Potremo avere molti specchi a disposizione nei quali vederci riflessi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112585386251252713?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112585386251252713/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112585386251252713' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112585386251252713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112585386251252713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/specchio.html' title='specchio'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112576128779889598</id><published>2005-09-03T17:02:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-04T14:53:58.210+02:00</updated><title type='text'>vita e morte</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/morte%20e%20vita1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/320/morte%20e%20vita1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Questo pomeriggio, rientrando a casa, ho trovato un uccellino morto sul mio balcone. Il mio primo pensiero è stato. “Oh poverino, ma perché proprio oggi che è nato il mio nuovo blog “il giardino dai mille colori!... sarà un segno?”&lt;br /&gt;Quanta paura e ribrezzo nel toccarlo, ma poi mi sono detta “perché mai, dovresti averne paura o ribrezzo?” L’ho quindi raccolto ed accarezzato. Era semplicemente un involucro vuoto. Senza più vita, che andrà a concimare la terra per donare altra vita.&lt;br /&gt;Non c’è vita senza morte e non c’è morte senza vita.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112576128779889598?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112576128779889598/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112576128779889598' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112576128779889598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112576128779889598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/vita-e-morte.html' title='vita e morte'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112575126945486593</id><published>2005-09-03T13:58:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-03T20:36:33.750+02:00</updated><title type='text'>il giardino</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/1600/margherita%20con%20ragno2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1345/1532/320/margherita%20con%20ragno2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Questo giardino avrà bisogno di molte cure.&lt;br /&gt;Preparare il terreno, dovrà essere zappato e concimato. Essere seminato da me e da voi se vorrete. Alcuni semi saranno trasportati dal vento, altri verranno portati da uccelli, insetti ed altri animali. Alcuni tarderanno a germogliare, altri non nasceranno mai. Ma quando nasceranno i primi germogli, avranno bisogno di cure durante la loro nascita e crescita, fino a fiorire in mille colori e profumi. Poi, inevitabilmente, arriverà la stagione dove alcuni fiori appassiranno o moriranno. Altre piante avranno bisogno di essere potate o ripulite dalle erbacce.&lt;br /&gt;Ci saranno momenti dove tutto sembrerà morto e stabile, ma se andremo rimuovere e scavare nel terreno, troveremo una vita brulicante che si sta preparando per la nuova stagione.&lt;br /&gt;Questo giardino sarà inoltre esposto ai vari cambi climatici. Ci saranno giorni di sole e di pioggia. Potrete trovare una leggera brezza od un forte vento.&lt;br /&gt;Tutto servirà a farlo nascere e crescere.&lt;br /&gt;L'importante sarà averne cura e donargli un'attenzione costante e continua, ma non solo... questo giardino acquisterà un valore maggiore quando sarà vissuto e sfruttato con tutto quello che ci potremo trovare.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112575126945486593?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112575126945486593/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112575126945486593' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112575126945486593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112575126945486593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/il-giardino.html' title='il giardino'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16220795.post-112569106366854945</id><published>2005-09-02T21:39:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-03T20:42:20.076+02:00</updated><title type='text'>benvenuti</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.artetoma.it/Resources/trompe/part.giardino.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.artetoma.it/Resources/trompe/part.giardino.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eccomi qua tra mille emozioni e paure, nel mio giardino, qui potete riposarvi , passeggiare e sostare e se vorrete anche raccontare.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16220795-112569106366854945?l=giardinoviola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/feeds/112569106366854945/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16220795&amp;postID=112569106366854945' title='3 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112569106366854945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16220795/posts/default/112569106366854945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giardinoviola.blogspot.com/2005/09/benvenuti.html' title='benvenuti'/><author><name>viola</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09842393964635206353</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
