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Heir to the tradition of painting

The new and updated blog can be found at:

http://francescoapriceno. Blogspot.com

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Who wants to be UAE?

Following the example of

other countries, including the United are thinking of introducing a "cultural awareness test" for the issue of resident visa to foreign citizens in the federation.

The President of the UAE Parliament , Abdul Aziz Abdullah Al Ghurair , last month presented a bill to introduce a cultural test likely to lead to knowledge of culture, customs and traditions of the UAE "and compulsory for all foreigners applying for a residence visa in the UAE. This should reassure the nationals concerned that " the lack of knowledge on the part of expatriates lifestyle of the country was eroding their identity 'national .

Mmmmhhh, interesting idea ... make an example of how the test could be structured ...

Question No. 1

- From what follows, during Ramadan , the prohibition of live music, and while 'allow the sale of alcohol (in the premises)?

a) the Koran
b) is not 'some text laid down in Islamic jurisprudence
c) from the fervid minds of the sheikhs ruling

Question No. 2 - What 'the meaning of the acronym IBM ?
a) Insha'Allah, Bismillah , Masha'Allah (God wants in the name of God, and that 'the will' of God)

b) International Business Machines
c) Insha'Allah Bukra Maalesh (maybe tomorrow, forget it)

Question No. 3

- In what activities' a wealthy resident of Abu Dhabi in 2007 spent more than 25 million dirhams (about 5 million euros)?
a) zakat
b) for the construction of a center to help the 'needy
c) the purchase of the plate "5" for his Car

Question 4 - What does the term Emiratization ?
a) to assist the UAE in trouble 'to overcome the problems caused by the recent economic crisis
b) set aside a quota-UAE to work with specific sectoral expertise
c) in times of crisis, UAE if you can not be fired, even if your productivity 'and' the most 'low holding

Question 5 - IRENA , L ' International Agency for Renewable Energy , will have' its headquarters in Abu Dhabi. Factor which has particularly influenced this decision?
a) the attention that the country has always been to safeguard its natural heritage (read: oil)
b) the money. Oops, I meant the construction of Masdar , the first city 'zero-carbon "world
c) the fact that the UAE are among the countries with the highest CO2 emissions per capita

Question 6 - What weekly 'was recently banned in the UAE?
a) FHM
b) Jasad
c) Jeune Afrique

Question 7 - A child born to foreign parents in the UAE ...
a) ... automatically takes nationalities' UAE if the parents are resident in the UAE
b) ... on coming of age 'can choose between nationalities' UAE and the parents
c) ... get a residence visa to be renewed every 3 years. If male, when he becomes an adult must be sponsored by a company based in the UAE and / or in the event 'that would remain unemployed, must be within the country of origin of parents

Results

Majority of responses "to": Do you really think the UAE is an Arab Muslim country? Tze ', poor deluded! REJECTED
Majority of responses "b": I applaud your common sense, but I urge you to apply more in the study of the contortions of the human mind and 'capable when subjected to extreme climatic conditions. We'll know ... REJECTED!

Majority of responses "c": Ok, only two possible hypotheses ... 1) six UAE / or 2) you are a person with bipolar manic-homicidal tendencies ... Brother! We need people like you, welcome! APPROVED

ps: if I and cabbage 'failure to write on the blog!

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The time needs for novelty (time alongside Cate)


Take a human body is a hole.
Hang and then drain every liquid
one drop per second, rhythm,
with the intention of composing music.
Every drop a bucket different
a glass,
plural glasses,
so as not to confuse,
order to save each time.
Time wants to change the substance,
wants to be nutritious food and be eaten,
is tired of his purity,
of its intangibility,
wants be as simple as a piece of cheese.

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Hideaway

Last night I woke up at 5:37, suddenly prey who knows, a nightmare, or perhaps of thirst and heat.
I did not know that at the same time, L'Aquila, some people have finally closed their eyes, not waking up ever since that night of sleep.

the morning, arriving at the office, I was greeted by questions of my colleagues and brutal images that Rai News24 seemed almost as if to throw them by force me to admit any fault or to give to me shame. How could she be so calm in my sleep?, Seemed to ask the screen. I was petrified.
Then I realized. L'Aquila. My sister, Manuela, studies L'Aquila.
Cazzocazzocazzocazzocazzocazzocazzocazzocazzocazzocazzocazzocazzocazzocazzo.
I call his cell phone was turned off. Gelarmisi I felt the blood in his veins.
I called my mother rang. "Hello. Have you heard?" "Manuela. How are you? The cell phone is off." "Do not worry, he's fine. Pescara was here tonight. At home were her roommates, there was some damage but nothing serious. They're fine."
DiograzieDiograzieDiograzieDiograzieDiograzieDiograzieDiograzieDiograzieDiograzie.

5.8 ° on the Richter Scale. No joke. About 180 victims
so far. I am not a joke.
Last week my mother had written to me via e-mail that there had been an earthquake in L'Aquila and that my sister had been awakened in the middle of the night by the Civil Protection and the neighborhood where he lives had been evacuated . I had read casually, without giving too much weight to it, aware that the interior is almost entirely Abruzzo earthquake zone and earthquakes are recurring events, so far without luck to have equaled the old "record" held by Avezzano earthquake of 1915 .

17,000 displaced. A lot of money. Already
me imagine them our administrators, birds of prey like vultures flying over a corpse, among the rubble in the Palace meeting the Chamber, to rub their hands thinking of the money for reconstruction.
Thinking of how to exploit the tragedy to do some 'dives in the region to promote "strong and gentle" forgotten by God, but not by the crooked politicians.
finally, Abruzzi is a bit 'better known.
Finally, the earthquake will help Italians learn to locate this region on the map.
For many years the Abruzzo region was unknown, so that when I went to study in Venice, my classmates asked me where I came from and when it heard the answer, he insisted: "And in that region is Pescara?". My best friend, one who knows that Yaounde is the capital of Cameroon, he thought it was in the Marches Pescara.

Now, finally, this beautiful land, with sea and mountains, parks, forests, waterfalls, castles and churches, will become a bit 'more famous.
Oh yes, because at least this time rose to national headlines during the earthquake, the victims that moves the viewer and move it to pity.
A big step ahead of the political scandals, the only other parameter whereby the Abruzzo does not fall into oblivion.

Remo Gaspari

Rocco Salini

Enzo Cantagallo

Ottaviano Del Turkish

Luciano D'Alfonso

ps: If you trust a ' My other premonition, the next should be Franco Marini . But the old
Apennine wolf is too smart to be fooled like those other fools.

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In the meanwhile ...

S. I warned, my sponsors, the offer of the embassy. D.
, the new boss (you can just put the link to her blog ... I know that feeling you have), has launched talking about managerial position and to take care of the launch of four new programs (emiratization, academy, a cine club and couple of other little things ...).
I sent him kindly fuck Sunday, March 1 and began work at the embassy, \u200b\u200band after almost two years of honorable work, Onwan (now Avantgarde ) close '.
"Everything passes."

Then, what else? Ah, yes'! Last month it snowed! not in Abu Dhabi, of course, but mountains in the area of \u200b\u200bRas Al Khaimah , one of the emirates "northern" (if you click on the links in green open photos ...)
And then? Well, then I and 'failure to confront Insha'llah you ..., I start to make me short of the usual daily strolls on your blog ... to you soon!

Stay tuned!

Clauds

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characters (ie the stage fiction)

If you click on the player can read the text more easily. CIA ...

 259PD6AU9EEW 

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rhetorical attempt

Cade
is just rain, I can see
.
Poetry wants to give him a name,
telling you that it's just a sign
and that is the whole truth behind
or at least the feeling of truth.
look more deeply, discover the skeleton

fibers and trembling.
But it's only rain that falls,
you can see every day.

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Physiognomy as

Sometimes I wonder ...
should I ask someone,
if my face, my track
outward
heavy 88 kg,

layer upon layer of fat and blood cells in
they (almost) perpetual replacement ...
would like to know if this is carved
you something,
a line that can be said only
or sign of my identity.

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Romanticism

I'd like to able to believe in a sign
a black mark, a figure
fast
night flying between the balconies and shouts
do not understand what ...
perhaps pain, despair,
perhaps only inarticulate sound, but sound
,
still life.
believe that that sign
(my private)
mean something,
believe it's not only

a
case.

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Fragment of soul-searching on Annotations for a dream

The dream is

utopia where everything has a place

but not a goal.

Its subject is the simple and pure idea,

that can become flesh,

the flesh of a ghost.

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future and more enjoyable religion

If there is no truth

can survive only the rice,

unrepentant and shameless

rice.

no disappointment, only

the continuous unfolding

file teeth

and facial deformities.

remains sometimes fear,

but in a mortified

child

whim

night.

Thanks be to lie

and uncertainty.

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Vanity gestures absolute

Sometimes it happens that some people will reappear in front
people who had canceled
forgotten.
Your gesture was an absolute
final
and the mind was even erase the name, as if to say
identity.
They do not know, some of which did not exist, but the same
rebelled. This
their rebellion destroys your gesture,
your decision,
and so you understand that you are not god.

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Aton noise of the atom (or fool's advice)

You understand that things exist,
the atom, which is always,
tireless.
not exist for your personal pleasure, despite
you like the idea
and the way it is put on paper.
The reason is unclear,
enclosed in the continuous revolution
of protons and electrons,
fun and easy movement.
Sterility formulas
and sophistry
not tell you anything,
her lips move silently.
far preferable
not know
not ask anything,
only strive to exist.
This is my only advice ...

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See, see all the historical Conception

The eye of the stranger is most acute
curious.
welcomes the light, all light

that can hold up,
and turns,
moves continuously and tirelessly
hectic.
Here and now, forever.
have an eye like that until
would be a blessing,
save me,
I would understand ...

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Take the past and analyze it,
fragmented into small villages,
atoms,
electricity.
And maybe, if you're lucky,
those moments back,
become again this for a second, and the senses
riaccolgono
what it was.

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The discovery of hot

Break bones,
hit me and let me feel

the creaking of my bones.
not be afraid, I do not feel

nothing.
I want to see if there is something inside
,
also want you to see.
Bucami his chest and puts

hand.
Is there anything?
you hear something?
Not one drop of blood
,
no rhythm, no pain
.
And then I laugh,
is so funny, that's the truth

eventually

all relies on this.
Or is it better to say nothing
?

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gaining because nothing

Sometimes I wonder:
but makes no sense to me Waiting for someone to love me?
perhaps begin to live?
do not know, and then who said that I must try to be happy?
There is a possibility that this is not happen, maybe I was not chosen for the privilege.
but I always had the presumption that I will have these things, that
on me as I am,
perhaps the finest in my mind.
Should I focus on something else, write for example,
continue to write about anything and earn the money if you can.
would be a good prospect, an example of futility profitable.
And maybe there would be more satisfied and do not expect anything because the things I wanted
have already arrived.

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No advice from give

This is the time when I'd shout happy to be bored.
There is nothing remarkable that I can tell,
nothing short stories.
No advice to give, no spark coming out to do.
Not unhappiness or doubt, that still would
topics they can discuss.
No woman,
perhaps, but no
.
I sit, still sitting
and there is nothing of which I complain,
fun, no?

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Exorcism


I will die in the dream really die, I die for fun, I'll die in the blood, I will die with the world, eating meat I die, I die every day, sleeping I die, I die at a certain time, I will die with the idea having to live again, coughing die, die crushed by the sunlight, I will die the death more beautiful, and I die I'll be food for worms, I'll die for love, die losing money, I will die as they all die, die in the shower, I'll die eating well, I will die at the same time they are born, die in an embarrassing and I die my death will die all die in the arms of god, I will die with a pen in hand, I'll die now, I will die and I will not believe, I will die in the sea, die life, die hiding, I will die and two more times, I will die for their country, I will die of apparent death, near a church die, I die as I wish, I'll die of fear, I shall die as I write my poetry more beautiful, I'll die tired of everything, I'll die after telling someone I love, despised I die, I die in debt, I will die drunk, I'll die of health, will die without faith, I will die without any noise, I will die in tears, I'll die expelling glorious die crazy die in a disgusting place, I will die in flames, I die while I sniff colorful flowers, I will die with a body part in less, I will die and my eyes will see the light, I die inside a cinema, I'll die for a distraction, I'll die not to say a word , fully aware I die, I die badly dressed, I'll die early, die after falling from a bicycle, speaking a foreign language I die, I die and I'll be forgotten, petting a dog die, I die with a sneeze, I die with a broken back, I'll die when you need another , I'll die to go to hell, I'll die of boredom, I'll die frozen, I will die and my heart beat again, I'll die in a very convenient location, I'll die standing in line at the post, I die because I deserved it, I'll die on this earth, I will die giving a speech full of nonsense, I will die with a bullet in the brain, I will die without a scratch, I'll die clean and fragrant, I'll die just to see if the coffins are comfortable, I'll die in a day of celebration, I will die with bad breath, I will die with his throat cut, I'll die standing, surely die, I will die believing in human goodness, I will die hating someone I die a hundred years, I will die with a lot to do yet, I will die poisoned, die in the most spectacular, I'll die without leaving anything to anyone, I will die waiting for something to happen, I'll die in a panic, I'll die for I woke up at 7 am, I will die with 5 liters of beer in the stomach.

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Venice divinorum


The day after the snow starts. Not really snow, sleet one might say, but falls in a continuous succession. It's almost relaxing to see her fall. Let's go to breakfast. There are all the other guests, have a Venetian accent but not all. There are also foreigners and I feel more in tune with them, we are in the same situation as outsiders. Comforts me a bit '. I eat with do not eat things that taste ever. Butter, marmalade, orange juice. Normally I never do breakfast, but in this case I have a great pleasure. We finish breakfast and get out. We have umbrellas and cold is all around us. The traffic of people has increased since the night. It seems all the same people but I have no eye for the differences. But to hear them talk you understand who they are, tourists, the tides of tourists, all the offspring and body types. The Venetians are not, the ways they do not have the same appeal. In an attempt to orient a map but we have our walk is still complicated. The map almost flies off the wind. I'm a little unnerving to me, I begin to have repulsion. Francesca is rather quiet and walk following the instinct. I follow no attention to where you go and as far as I'm concerned we may lose. Our goal is S. Marco and it seems that we approach. Some people painted on the face, there are also masks. But these people are not in a significant number. The fact that I like to let me go with the flow. You do not need a goal, everything is new and everything can be a goal. I do not know practically nothing of Venice, nothing of its history or culture. I was never informed. But this is not a problem. I do not want to know anything, anything said or written. I try to get me through his soul. Still can not help but look, in spite of all the things I get nervous and weakens. Francesca is busy with his thoughts. He listens with little attention. It seems anything but careful. Maybe she can get through the soul of the city. I envy you but I would also like to talk even if I do not know what. Keep walking, is the only sure thing. Everything looks the same to me, because the same again. Only through experience one can notice the difference. For me it's all a set, an agglomeration. All uniform and still fascinates me. But the trip is not only doing my mind. Well my body has something. I look a bit 'round, from all sides. Find something that gratifies me eyes. I find it more attractive abroad, I would stop them and get acquainted. But Frank, with its incessant flow dragging me and I do not have much time to think about how to gratify my body and my repressed sexual desire. Climb on a bridge larger than the others. It is also the most famous, I think it's called the Rialto Bridge. Stands above the channel wider. It is an attraction but I do not care. I acknowledge that I have no instinct as a tourist, does not affect me at all everything that affects the other. Francesca asks me: "Then why did you come to nothing if you do not care?", "I can not say, do not understand it either, maybe they are not cut out for the trip. At least, the thing that I do not want it to be a Tourists, it seems so trivial. But I think this is the only way to travel. Or at least the only one I can think of. " After a while, 'that we are on the bridge Francesca decides that he is cold. Below is dressed only in a skirt and heavy socks." I should have put his pants. "I will I agree. He says he would like to return to the hotel to change. It tells me that if I want to go it alone, give me the map and then joins me. Even with the map I miss the security of the idea and I do not like it. So I tell her that her return to the hotel. The return is not less difficult the first leg. We stop often to check the map. We do some load speed, a whole back and forth and I go crazy and curse this cesspool of the city. However after a while 'is the right way. We return to hotel and go to your room. "I should rest a bit, 'I'm tired," I say as a lament. Francesca is fine. Then he proposes to smoke salvia that we bought before leaving. I say yes. Then I start to prepare for it seems impatient with Francesca bonga smoking. Then smoke at the window to avoid creating too much stink in the room. If it falls and sits on his bed. He tells me that did not give a good effect, is not satisfied. Then I start to prepare for me. I go to the window and began to smoke. Before the smoke build-up, then do the last shot strong. Only I'm wrong, do not hold my smoke. The effect of this is poor. I just feel some pinch arms and nothing else. Last time I smoked salvia I liked more, I was feeling slightly more fluid, the sensations were new and strange. So I do not feel satisfied and I want to try again. Bonga prepare another and this time the smoke for good. Close the window and I sit on the bed. Now it's different, it seems the right feel. But this is the last thing I think and I know that thinking. Then everything is outdated no longer see my reality. The sounds are repeated, no longer in control ears, do what they want. Lose control of everything and it's scary, I forget things and the time and space is as if the glass breaks. The images I will crush your face the time and wants nothing to stand still. It's like a frame that I repeated slaps. And I do not know how to stop the ride, it's all a carousel. I am terrified of being stuck in this place and do not know how I got there. I think I see some red gondolas and I think that there are other people. On one of the gondolas and the eighteenth century there is a lady I do not know who he is and I think I laugh at him. I have the strange feeling that it's all advertising for the supermarket. I do everything to free, otherwise I know I will die or go mad or completely. But still, the continuous vortex, can not remember but maybe it was filled with images flickering, smoky lines without substance, and everything was current and flow. I am terrified. Cry or at least I think I just scream. Then he begins to liberarmisi sight. I see Frank looking at me weird. Holds out his hand and I grabbed it with great effort, to try to stop me and I took the vortex. She tries to talk but I can not stand it. Listening to it makes me crazy. But I hold your hand and try to contain the feelings. The senses seem to come back in their place. I try to speak to explain the explosion that took me but I have problems in articulating words, stumble on the tongue. I do not feel any physical pain, there is only the absolute confusion and violence. I also take a sweltering heat, I try to take off my clothes. I try to lie down on the bed but I can not sit still. However, the violence fades and I begin to calm down. I see everything as I remembered and I am reminded that I had smoked. I had completely forgotten. Now I take the urgent need to explain, trying to describe. I try to put into words but I understand that it is inadequate. I do confused, passionate, I've got to make it clear that happened to me. "My common sense tells me not to touch the sage," I say to Frank, "and I'd be more comfortable if you do not even touch you." It's real concern, I want you to feel the same. Almost beg to throw the remaining sage, I do not want to be touched more. keep talking and it's nice to hear that the effect is going away. Now I'm free and healthy, almost happy. Francesca by his telling me what he saw outside and it is curious to know nothing. She says she felt a little 'guilty because he could not help me. And I am grateful they are. For now I prefer to stay in the room, I do not want to go out, I'm afraid of my possible reactions outdoors. They spend a bit 'of minutes and eventually returned to normal and peaceful. I say we go out and breathe the air.

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Doubt actor


Doubt,
continuous doubt
pounding and everlasting doubt
doubt that it has no truth, no doubt
theater
doubt that my every breath is a joke,
already written and thought out,
artifice and lie, lay inert

of puppet.

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A sweet weight


My small library started to be,
precisely
too small.
books are gradually spreading into the room,
occupying their dusty place.
piled one on top form irregular stacks
and shaky that it is better not to touch.
and order, the only one I conceive,
that of books,
flakes
and so I find myself having to walk on tiptoe
not collapse on me this paper weight .
Basically I'm not complaining
given my attachment, my bookish
fetishism the paper and its chemical smell,
oh yes, the smell of old paper that reminds me that of the vanilla,
smell of fresh ink printing
smell of congealed glue and thought. And I
always surprised the false inertia that has it all,
of matter that make up
and the secret that holds within it.

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Fragment a philosophical schiffarato

mind, strange accessory human

always moves and also if you would

could not stop to catch his breath.

For his continuous proceed

for the tireless whirl

implementing

it could be regarded as absolute,

as the only element that always is.

But, I wonder, will always be?

will never rest?

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My favorite picture is the full sheet of writing


sense,
the sense that lies between the lines,

the continuous succession of black words on white rough.
I do not need to read, I just tend
eyes there in the middle

and capture the light of that word,

of that one word that makes me tremble,
and together I
tremble the world

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communication

I have never been realized. Or at least I think so. Maybe I do not understand me, even so, maybe no. Often when I speak, when I make a long and reasoned discourse, full of original ideas that you think smart and do not understand. I nod, counter with my point of view, I play my part and I cause a monologue becomes a dialogue, but mostly I start to think about anything else, I devolution. I am convinced that most of the words a person is obliged to think and say, become useless in the space dividing two people talking in the act to enter into the ears of the listener. 'S different to the importance that people give to words and ideas. I have often put forward ideas that I thought it was ingenious and acute or at least expect interest and complicity on the part of others. But I was almost always disappointed by the reaction I saw. So now I am defending belittling my idea from the start, saying it is "fucked up, so I got an idea." I wonder if the others suffer from these delusions of communication or if they do not care and still be happy with their ideas. There is the fear of saying stupid things, because if you say then people will think that it is yourself, stupid. But I think this is a fear among the least essential to life because it is much easier not to be heard and felt the opposite.

Then there is the question-or perhaps I should say-doubt when we talk about if we are honest and spontaneous, if we say what we think, if we say "real" things. What is this truth then we would like to communicate? It 'so important? It 's so primary? But maybe I just want to be ironic because I lack the courage to do otherwise. Thinking that other people do not understand me or not I want to make things easier to understand me, encourage my way of seeing. If I believe in the hope that people can transmit almost emphatically true things. But I am not at all easy. I live in constant Conflict between not believe in truth in the statement and to want to pursue. I think it's pathetic, because when you do the one thing you should do, not to think about and theorize. Now that I write is even more difficult to be spontaneous because I think good writing, style, and the things of which I speak is not something that preoccupies me in the middle of a real discussion. It 's just like writing something. A theory that nothing will change, that will not change anyone, even me.

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Photographic memory

Then after I forget your face.

After a while, after I tasted it slowly.

It is a paradox because you're the object

of what I think is love.

Love, a word that I do not like to write,

but here he found his place, to be written here.

So every time I try to keep the memory,

trying to impress the implications of the corneas.

and stays there for as long as I may,

hoping that lasts.

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What better

of people with a body

and blood flowing?

All words have life

but then you realize that things are death.

waste of breath perhaps

but is there to say?