Wel-come

Anna Akhmatova used to call words houses, and herself an architect.

So welcome in; make yourself comfortable in my house of words.

the
story

Connection is a space of collection and reflection. It collects pieces of writing, podcast episodes, and my resource archive of visuals, music and quotes.

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Connection is a space for me to keep my consciousness in one physical place, traceable and organised. Connection is for you, if you fancy touring around my virtual household and discovering what my digital nooks and crannies might hide. Connection is for us, to share something that potentially could remain unsaid.

Connections

Dear Jacque, who will feed the worms?

Face-to-face with a literature review. Dear Derrida, nice to meet you, Cusmano. I hate to tell you that I have to disagree. That's a bit...

Jun 29, 20244 min read

haunted by - last autumn,

A song as always: This piece initiates a series of studies and technical exercises that explore the various material expressions of...

Jun 22, 20242 min read

Where words live

Here are two videos of poems by Mike Garry. I hope you enjoy how Mancunian angst meets tenderness and care.

Jun 13, 20243 min read

Oh no, I shagged a proddy

Here is On no, I shagged a proddy. An ironic poem about god sex and sin.

Jun 5, 20243 min read

Tolstoj bathroom pirouettes

La scrittura è una salvezza che si fa beffa della morte. Cosí anche la mia amicizia con Lev Tolstoj. Quando pulisco il bagno di casa mia...

May 30, 20245 min read

Choreplay

Here is a poem about ordinary ridiculous, tedious love. In January I lifted my gaze from the chopping board of sliced onions, tomatoes...

May 7, 20241 min read

Practice

Here is Practice, a poem about stronger bodies, stronger minds and rebuilding the pieces of my body that I had lost along the way.

May 2, 20243 min read

To know anything about anything we have to rely on others. Especially when it comes to our name.

I like that Russians don't say my name is but they call me, to tell someone their name.

They call me Piper, Pip, Pi, Pie, Pipa, Pipi. They call me the american, the italian, the loud kid on the bus, the one that dated weird kids in highschool, the one that lived in an old toilet factory, the one that falls over in her platform boots, a longtime friend, a part-time lover and a fulltime nasty bitch.

I guess it depends on whom you ask.

I've also been told that I came into this world in Fort Lauderdale, Florida in December 1999. Which is a bit sketchy, considering my first conscious memory is not of the US, but of Italy at the age of 3.

I guess this information was never for me to decide in the first place.

If you do want to find out who am I, it just depends on whom you ask.

Or you can stick around and find out what I have to say about it.

visually.

I use social media as an archive for my writing and thinking. My writing stems from visual experience and visual research, mostly collected on my platforms.

sincerly.

The second guide and resource for my writing is masterhood. I didn't learn to write in school. I learned by interacting with my authors, who acted as my teachers and friends. Many of them are dead and don't know I exist. But how could they not be friends of mine after helping me on my writing path? So here is a collection of resources, quotes and references, of my masters and teachers. So maybe you can find a house in their words too.

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