Photo Luigi Damiani

“Of course I remember him.
The groceries and the cigarettes from the Peschiciane.
A motorbike always needing repairs.
The dives and the days at the beach
formidable, because he was formidable….
The terror at that strange reluctance to press the brake pedal of the green R5.
Love affairs that could be unmasked at the first attempt.
Countless girlfriends who didn’t know they were going out with us.
The Dadaists who popped up everywhere and plagued our existence.
Pages and markers scattered in a scorching room full of flies.
Rivers of words always ahead of something else, and songs left unfinished.
Nights spent on the low wall in San Menaio saying what shall we do (and then that’s what we had done..!!)
Exhausted rounds at the buca and the almabar.
That tent at calenella, silent by day, unstoppable by night.
When he boarded the spaceship of a time too rough and difficult even for him.
Badly organized trips.
Of course I remember. ”