I’ve already lived at least three lives.
I’ve spent most of my life in Italy, a quite regular life, family, friends, university and finally a real job.
Then I decided to press a restart button, I’ve filled two suitcases, take a plane and start again from zero. In Paris.
I had become a perfect parisian in no time, with all that this implies: a well payed job, a lot of stress, running from one side of the city to the other all day long, spending too much time in the subway.
But I’ve loved Paris as you could love a member of your familiy. Paris has been my sister and my whore, a very expensive whore but in the same time so beautiful.
Then I’ve pushed the restart button again, I’ve left my job, filled a backpack this time and started exploring the world with a crazy gipsy guy. After many miles and many countries, our paths separated and I’ve continued alone since. 2012 was, for me, a year to discover myself again, to enter in contact with a different me. I’ve discovered I prefer a simpler life, more in contact in nature. I’ve discovered I love to put my hands in the ground, planting seeds, seeing the world with different eyes. I’ve discovered I love the community life. I’ve discovered permaculture.
Then sometimes life puts you ahead of some choices to be made: I decided to get back to Paris for a while.
That was in the same time great and disappointing: in a year everything had changed, some friendships were, in some way, lost, Paris wasn’t the same anymore, neither was I.
So it was time to build things again, realising that Paris wasn’t my home anymore. I haven’t yet find a place I can call home.
Home is my backpack and the world is my playground.
And my camera is my diary.