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Master: Ubaldo Mirabelli

I want to dedicate some thoughts to an illustrious son of this much abused Palermo.
Maestro Ubaldo Mirabelli, shining vibrant example of humanity, supreme teacher, and delightful melancholy desecrator friend is gone three days ago.

Those who knew will never forget it.
got a handful of high-culture gems of wisdom, graceful and sophisticated humor, passion, vitality, passion for art, awareness, discipline, seriousness and playfulness noble.

It 'was one of the best, if not the best Superintendent (1977-1995) that the Teatro Massimo has ever had. When there was the "theater without theater, that is when the work was transferred to Politeama as the Teatro Massimo was closed.
One of the best art history professor that a student can desired (and I had such luck). Musicologist, writer, poet, journalist, intellectual end. In

youth belonging to the circle of intellectuals such as Sicilian Francesco Orlando, Antonio Pasqualino, Gioacchino Lanza Tomasi, Frank Lamb, of which at times liked to talk about. Friend even Sandro Paternostro, the RAI journalist, who was also from Palermo, with whom he shared interests and passions of youth.

Above frank, immediate, intuitive.
often pretended to human deafness unnecessary statements, or loved to surprise in the eyes the thoughts, before they formed.
To those who knew him to leave the mountains of memories, incidents such as precious embroideries a life lived from moment to moment, almost stolen eternal oblivion.

Skin Burnt After Waxing

Travelers

are born, we grow, we evolve, we change. Travel.

perceive as time passing faster and faster. As children, child's daily life has a particularly high. As adults every day disappears too quickly and going to another that gradually dissolves more and more instantly.

THE time is never enough.
Only a certain age onwards ....

The difference, I understand, is only in us.

As children we are like tanks: empty in the beginning of our life and then gradually more and with more and better content. We ourselves that we seek (some more, some less) content. The go cramming inside us, the first in bulk, then, on occasion, we are forced to tidy up. Throw away the superfluous (or what we do not use frequently) and we hold significant memories and experiences.

We realize more and more adults to be aware when they start to get sources to provide to others our experiences, rules, information that are now part of our baggage. As there happened to be young when we met some rare traveler's life full of trunks and suitcases, those rare people (who I wish you all to meet) who have made their life a lab, brave necessity or virtue, prepared to open their trunks and a secret drawer to show their treasures and their skeletons to us we offer them our attention .

We will in turn become a source only if we have experienced the charm of the discovery of other lives, other content, and other circumstances of someone that has proved so generous to put aside.

If at this point there is coming to mind as someone to whom to attribute this recall: sources also pay their contents without forcing you to drink or to enjoy.

're also thinking a qualcuno?

Area Of A Segment Of A Circle

Ei was .... (Ie the concept of obsolescence)

'N jornu ca Diu Patri era cuntenti

e passiava 'n celu cu li Santi,

a lu munnu pinsau fari un prisenti

e da curuna si scippau 'n domanti;

cci addutau tutti li setti elementi,

lu pusau a mari 'n facci a lu livanti:

lu chiamarunu "Sicily" them people,

but the Eternu Patri and 'lu diamonds.
(anonymous Sicilian)