Back to Italy – Summer 2023


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Hi everyone,

I write this short post from Shanghai Pudong Airport. I am going back to Italy for some time, to enjoy a mediterranean summer and my family.

Coming back to Italy – July 14th, 2023

Travelling habits

Every time I take an airplane, I have a habit started many years ago.
I buy this traditional Italian journal (“La Settimana Enigmistica”, in English it can be translated as “Puzzle and cross-words weekly journal”), I play with it and I keep it as a memory.

Its graphics are always the same since 1932, almost 100 years ago.

“La Settimana Enigmistica” – November 24th, 2022

Of course it is not easy to find it in China, so sometimes I buy it in digital format for iPad.

However, today I go back to Italy for some time. I wanted to keep this habit alive, so I took with me the journal I bought on November 24th, 2022 in Rome airport, when I left Italy to start my adventure in China.

This one, in particular, accompanied me also during my Covid Quarantine in Tonglu, near Hangzhou, when I landed in China. And also during my Shanghai hotel quarantine, Christmas 2022, when I was positive.
I will play a bit with it also during today’s trip.

These 8 months have been really dense and tough, but also full with growth. Now I really, really need to rest a little bit with my family.

See you soon.

Shanghai Pudong Airport – Terminal 1

Stopping being fat

These months were tough and dense, as I said above.

This had an impact on my body, too. I lost a lot of weight (11 kg!).

China effect on my weight

This is a welcome side-effect, since I was quite fat when I left Italy!

Goodbye, family. I was quite fat back then… in China I lost almost 8 kg within 3 months!

I glow pink in the night in my room

Gris is a videogame that I discovered a few years ago. I replayed it in the last weeks.

Good bye, mom – Acceptance, Gris

It is a visual masterpiece.

“[…] Gris’ most marvelous feature is its storytelling through color. Plumes of watercolor and ink sprawl across the screen, rolling in and out like storm clouds. Each of its four stages correspond to a color – red, green, blue, yellow, respectively — while highlighting different aspects of the protagonist’s journey. A lush forest with morphing trees decorates the green chapter, an appreciated shift after the first stage’s harsh, red desert. In the blue chapter, Gris wets her feet in shallow pools. Not long after, she dives deeper, navigating through aquatic mazes before realizing that she’s reached a point so far down that she can’t continue, at least not without help. There’s something Alice in Wonderland-like about this kind of logic — go backwards in order to go forward. In the case of Gris, it’s going deeper, descending into pitch black depths before she’s able to rise up again.

Gris’ inner demons take physical form, as she continuously evades a shapeshifting, inky black creature, desperate to consume her.

[…] At the end of each chapter, Gris curls up and begins to weep. Despite navigating through beautiful ruins, collecting starlight and even making a friend in the forest, she still mourns for what’s lost: her voice and the colors in her world. No matter what the setting, the grief is pervasive. And sadness, in my own experience, is a heavy weight that’s most powerful at the end of the day. Battling depression or the loss of a loved one is never a linear journey, I found. There’s a flicker of hope that maybe this time, things are looking up. Sometimes I think I’m doing better. But I’ll see something that reminds me of a relationship lost, and the painful process starts all over again. The journey in Gris plays out in similar ways, mirroring the waves of sadness that crash down when least expected.

Towards the end, the healing process begins. The music swells and crescendos to highlight Gris’ breakthrough. Her voice returns, and the world opens to her. Flowers bloom, ancient ruins spring to life, obstacles are cleared. As she vocalizes, a bridge of starlight appears to guide her way back to the top. With every step, I can hear the tiniest plink of her footsteps. Every sound is delicate, pristine and reflective of her ascension. […]”

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