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"Tell me a story," said the young butterfly elderly ass ...
"I know of stories my dear friend, if not only ..."
"Tell me, please ..."
"Once upon a time long ago, in a place away from us, a sweet ladybug. She had lost because of the spell of an evil witch and its envious black specks and was then locked in a cage for eternity.

Every day, all day, the ladybug was crying in the cage so that the tears filled my eyes ... and could not therefore see nothing but their miserable condition, imprisoned and deprived of their identity.
But one day, while crying, he heard the ladybird a gentle voice within their own prison that churches' Dear so much pain? Why so many tears? ' The ladybug
opened his eyes and saw the nightingale before her and said, still sobbing, 'I do not see a prisoner? And also I have deprived my black specks, of my identity. They are ordered to remain in this cage for eternity, alone and without ever finding out who they really are or could have been ... I can not help but cry my dear friend ... 'The nightingale she says:' My dear ladybird want to tell you a secret . You do not see because they do not want to see. As I did to get in your cage? As I I got you can get out of here. Do not allow others to see or agree to your private place of your freedom and your being. Now then dry your weary eyes and fly away! Out of this cage, beyond the bars. Do not delay! Since beyond the court, there is you and only you. Live! Out of here! ' And so the ladybug
wiped her eyes and explaining its small numb wings flew around the world in the future to look for herself and her black specks. "
" Oh ... what a beautiful story donkey friend ... but what does it mean? "
"My dear, do not mean a thing ... or it means everything. It means that I am stubborn and my old beautiful butterfly and you do not You should spend time with my stories as alive today and tomorrow you die and you have to live this day completely! Fly like the ladybug and then all live intensely in the dignity of the last breath of your being!
Because we are crazy when even your best friend betrayed us "
Both the ladybug butterfly that lived as long as they remained with their hearts, happy and proud.
The cage was empty.
for eternity.

Valentina Cusano

Message For Baby Books

expensive LADYBIRD-prof ...

I firmly believe that if the Italian school teachers to assume only truly passionate about their craft, and especially capable of meeting the needs of children who have before, maybe you tornerebbead go to school all those with a greater willingness to learn. But no. we have in our schools, our children, teachers, 15-18, unmotivated and bored. wages are what they are but there are also the complaints about it ... without thinking about the fact that 80% of young people today are working with a fixed-term contract or coco or can not find work. one slaughters the back for 700 euro a month when the monthly maintenance material of a human being Italian it expects at least twice. and the few young teachers that are given a good chance they do? throw in the toilet. what a shame! but from them I can only learn. learn not to be like these useless teachers only able to heat the place in the classroom.
I will only teach the things I know and love. and try in every class, seminar or workshop that is passionate about the topic to make you, make you really understand and show the beauty of fleeting things and saucy. and above all try to communicate with you. My language is always very simple in order not to create unnecessary barriers and misunderstandings between me and you.
like you, in my time, I was still a student myself and sometimes I happen to be. and to my professor I remember some with great affection and esteem. first of all, the art teacher in high school: a painter in turn could take the average of 3 to the 8! showed me the real expression art and its meaning recondite. so that then in fact I studied art at the university. a great young man! really great. 17 years I knew him through the philosophical concepts that hide the works of Marcel Duchamp. how wonderful.
another important teacher was to wire. how much I loved the philosophy! and how good he was to make me understand! with the simplest words in the vocabulary. thanks phillip.
literature and has always been one of my greatest loves ... by giving a Baricco from Catullus to Baudelaire and Rimbaud to Ungaretti ... breathless. Only six hundred Italian pretty well ... I am weak and contemporary literature does not consider the garbage Briget Jones style license plate. and also for literature have been lucky because my teachers were really brave. then mathematics, science, geography, chemistry and the like are a big goat! Why? the answer I leave to you.
photography is a part of a teacher. a diamond in the scrap for me. many professionals have taught me and sent great truth that I now carry with you. and the larger truth is that without being taught photography and photographers how to do laundry with mud. in our illustrious university are talking about photo realism, means objective and so on without really understand anything. dear and distinguished academic and shoot zero on the photo try to pick up a camera and take really a picture! maybe it's the right time to really understand what it means to take pictures. and you might even be able to teach something useful to your students who are spending thousands of euro each year in fees, room and board to learn useless air! nothing. but it does not matter much here because the important thing is we warm the seat of the chair. and I pity you for books full of words being achieved without any large publishing houses let you publish. sometimes I seem to find the most loyal critic and human meaning in a page fabio flight in an essay richly embroidered on the ideas of photography. but the problem is that you are also pretty dumb as soon as someone throws you the truth in my face and turn heels Add to the list of professional blacks, those who know but that "should not speak" because otherwise they end up disgraced career. I would say that you can not make me pain.
a great man I knew, a professor of DAMS in Bologna, has never returned to this vile category of professors steals money and hucksters.
dear Professor, to you I dedicate these thoughts, and maybe one day I dedicate my next book.
remember that our good noodles with Stephen and laughter? I am sending you a kiss there. and I imagine you with your hat and your cigar while you smile on us. hello sandro. hello great man.

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someone has just written ...

"I hit the passion, poetry, colors, colors ... you could not to 1000 photos to the same person and each photo to make it special and interesting, never the same as another because time passes, the light changes, and every living being is important and special in every moment ... "

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dear March ... dear all ... all all.

I was always simple and I would like to keep you with me. everyone!
but I can not and soon you will understand. as a mother and her children will be "forced" to let you go to your lives, to yourself. and I wish you to be happy in what you do. it only matters to me. but here there will probably always be a diary entry in white waiting for your words, your emotions and your paths made or expected.
I wish I had more time to devote but the work will not let me and everything I've always dedicate the energy and interest. and often neglect my private life ... alas!
but if I look back I have no regrets and holds intense love where I know better to keep it.
small steps you observe as you go. as taken as I ACULTY while I show you a picture, while swearing in a dark room and while the magic come true in our hands. I think for the first time develop its own film and then hold it between your hands against the light to see if anything is there, both as love at first sight when you wake up one morning, put your feet down from the bed you stop for a moment and you see account of being in love. of another human being. of life. your work.
I wish it was easier to be photographers today, but it is not. and rightly so too.
we like challenges.
gradually. in small steps. Where were you eight months ago?
and where you will be in one year?
we like challenges.

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from me to you.

I believe that the dignity make much difference in the world of art. first of all for themselves and then to others. are not born but I try to be selfless. even when they are just "great friends" to sink their claws into your heart. even when you give all your knowledge, your passion, your confidence and the other thanks you with supreme ignorance and malice marked. often mark the wickedness of the choices of someone who "ignore". everyone living in his own juice! but I make sure that mine is good. for me. By the time I learned to manage my life in a more shrewd. and this I learned from the profession and private life. and if I got big kick in the ass, especially those who are not expecting them to me, now I choose differently. someone also returns. perhaps stronger, while others keep them in the drawer. at hand.
and that you write me, you who read me only, to you who hear me during a lesson to you that I meet in my photographs, I choose you for my photographs, you see that you and I look at you love me and to you ... I love photography because I live it makes me live.
and if you're reading me now, even once you've felt pleasure while taking a photo and you heard that intense and fleeting thrill in the back ... I confess that I only make happy.
here is why I send my life to those who follow me and stands beside me. because maybe the things I learned before you may find useful.

because maybe the emotions that I felt I can try it too.