Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Just a Bowl of Cherries

The princess I'll be talking about in this post is Valentina.

She is Italian but part of her family is British. You can tell from her pale and soft skin and blue eyes.

Skin is something princesses of everywhere around the world have always taken seriously since it's something that presents yourself.
Over the years home made tricks for a soft and kiss-calling skin have been discovered. This, mostly of course when medicine was not as developped in the beauty-care area. Some where pure inventions but we still find some others in nowadays magazines!
Some girls used to take a bath in mule milk, others in olive oil!

To show others they were princesses, not only the skin had to be soft, in contrast with the harderness of those who worked, but also pale.
If we pay attention to all the paintings representing royalties, particularly females, they all had a very very pale skin colour. Typical was using a small umbrella to protect the skin from the sun during out-door walks.

I took these pictures of Valentina the day she did the last exam of her degree course!
The weather was so "stupid": sunny then cloudy then some rain and then a little sun again.
While taking a picture in particular, one of Fosse's song came to my mind: "Life is just a bowl of cherries". I highly recommend it if you don't already know it. Here is the picture I'm referring to and a part of the song.

Life is just a bowl of cherries
Don't take it serious,
Life's too mysterious
You work,
You save,
You worry so
But you can't take your dough
When you go, go, go

So keep repeating "It's the berries."
The strongest oak must fall
The sweet things in life
To you were just loaned
So how can you lose
What you've never owned

What about under the skin?
No, I'm not talikng about bones or other material parts of the body.

Indeed, a princess is not only her appereance. It's the way she talks, she stands, she looks at people and things around her. A princess is a way of being. I love the way Valentina played with the cherries...before eating them! 
She also used one of the as a book-mark at one point as you can see in the picture below!

I see her, right at the end of a little street. Her long blond curly hair seem not to be afraid of the rain. She keeps walking right towards a direction she is the only one to know. The street is one onf those that look like a labyrinth. A labyrinth of buildings, of unknown and inquiring looks, of cars that casually run from one side to the other. A dark little street. As I get to the end of it the extraordinary beauty of the stormy sea leaves me breatless and at the same time unprepared.
She is there. Right among the rocks. The wind brings the salty water of the sea right to her lips. She tastes it as if it was juice so naturally.
She doesn't look either afraid or surprised by the storm.
Residents, on the ohter hand, run to their safe homes being unexpected such a storm. Just an hour ago the strong Sicilian sun used to warm the people who were un-bathing, to cheer up some lonely lovers and took company to the elderlies in their unstoppable wandering. From the bar to the news'paper shop, from the backery to the bar again.
The post-card like picture disappeared waking up the people around just like gazelles as they hear the imperceptible sound caused by the soft paw of their predator on a deceptive wood.
She is still right where she was before. On the "muretti". This is how they call the little barrier between the side-walk and the beach, in Aci Trezza. They could really tell stories. Love, friendships, hate and sorrow are written, just trhugh couples of words on them. The names Luca and Alessia are surrounded by a big heart, "Francy e Cate friend forever".
I'm still, at the corner of the little street, looking at the girl. Something in her screams "I wanna live this thing. I don't care of what might come next".
Suddenly i realise what made me follow the girl with the long blond curls, through the dark little street.
Her eyes travel over the skyline. Her hands, clenched together as they were trying to stop a fleeting warmth. Her mouth looks like she is speaking to someone, maybe near, maybe very far away. Maybe just to herself. Her bright blue notebook she had right next to her legs.
The rain doesn't stop and keeps beating against the sea water. Without a break. My weak shelter against the rain is no more good, the rain is too strong. 
I'm tempted to go and ask her if she needs something. But as I'm about to move the first step, I think againg and blush for my previous stupid thought. 
If you let the sea enshroud you like she does, then, that is exactly what you were looking for. 
I turn around and go back walking along the little street. It doesn't look like a lybirinth anymore. The cars are all stucked and their stop lights are way to strong for my eyes. I get in my own car. I drive along the sea side but the girl is not there anymore. I ask myself if maybe it was all my imagination, if it was all  because of the high waves. As I turn aroung though, I notice the blue notebook is still there..

 Princess details:
  • Name: Valentina
  • Where: Milan, Italy
  • Special details: likes biting so..pay attention! 

xxo Fiammetta


    1. Bellissimo blog fiammetta..!!

      follow each other? ;)


    2. Grazie :)

      Just added yours to my followed blogs, do the same!