It was April of the New Millennium. I was fifteen years old and I didn't yet know that the Millennium I was about to experience would define my generation.
In my CD player (I would have my first mp3 player shortly thereafter) Springsteen's evergreen Greatest Hits alternated with Venditti's nostalgic Goodbye Novecento.
I was fifteen years old and in the months of March and April of that year, one evening a week, I had my first experience of mask and hospitality, in front of this cinema. 'Parlare Immagine' was the review that we had prepared with my class at the ITC in Trani and our literature teacher.
I had already discovered cinema ten years earlier, when I was very little, when in my eyes its magic was real, when sitting in the cinema, next to my mother - not on her lap, because cinema is a ritual and requires composure and respect - my feet dangled from the too high, wooden, foldable chair and I struggled to push myself towards the edge from time to time, to get a better look, while I always slipped towards the back.
At fifteen years old, in front of this cinema, which for me was truly a Supercinema, that seed of magic had found fertile ground and was becoming the sprout of a passion closer to obsession. I still couldn't imagine how big it would become, how those speaking images would never stop telling me, in their fiction, the entirely human truth and the entirely imperfect humanity.
Today, twenty-one years later, finding myself by chance in front of this entrance, for an instant my heart went into apnea. A suspended breath, a caress of nostalgia. In the decadent, abandoned facade I saw my film, my images speaking. In the small cracks, the wounds of broken dreams and, at the same time, in the still intact stucco, in the austere sign, all the tenacity of desires that do not want to die. The vocation and damnation of rebellious spirits who always believe, rightly or wrongly, and do not give up.
And so, today as then, the dreams are there, still standing, a little mistreated but proud, guerrilla fighters, combative. And if I can still look them straight in the eyes, letting myself be seduced by the typical charm of impossible things, without becoming a victim of it, it means that there is still something to defend. This is not the time to give up, nor to let them go. Not yet.
!pimp
You must be killin' it out here!
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They're getting a workout and slapped 2/3 possible people today.
Read about some PIMP Shit or Look for the PIMP District
@tipu curate
Upvoted 👌 (Mana: 31/61) Liquid rewards.