Mamma in UK

Power, Bikram or Iyengar?

After eight years of astanga viniasa and hatha yoga, I decided to try bikram yoga. I heard so many stories about it and after the ultimate finnish experience, i went with Amanda on Wednesday. I fell seriously ill. I mean, is it not bad enough to feel dizzy, claustrophobic, breathless and start seeing white dots, have dyarrea and throwing up?!? I nonetheless stayed till the end of the class and even signed up for a month of trial! Mad? I just thoguth that you should not base your opinions on your first time. Plus, I needed more time to decide whether this practice is really not for me. So, with some hesitation, I went again today and, to my relief, it was much much better. I feel great now and have been pondering the reasons of this difference:

1. Last time, I had not had a proper lunch
2. I came straight from an intense day of work
3. I had period
4. I thought the class was one hour when it lasts one and a half hour
5. I was in the middle of the room, cramped amongst sweaty fellow yogini
6. I could watch myself in the mirror - distracting!
7. The teacher was quite hard-core
8. I panicked and breathed through my mouth

Today, although the class was slightly higher level:

1. I had had a proper breakfast/lunch: organic burger, aubergine/tomato tart and an ice cream
2. I had a good lie-in and a nice walk to the farmer market with steven before the class
3. My period is turning to an end
4. I knew what to expect -- the asanas are always the same (see image above), in the same order and always duplicated
5. I positioned my mat at the back and near the door to soothe my escaping feelings
6. I could not watch myself in the mirror and could concentrate on my inner balance
7. The teacher pointed out when the heat was off
8. I activated my ujjayi breathing

It was still knackering but overall an enjoyable experience.

I am going to keep practicing as much as I can this month and just before i head off to NYC (where I want to try Gurmukh's yoga centre), i am going to try Iyengar Yoga -- I have high hopes on this institute because if i like and manage to convince the teachers that i am a practiced yogini, i may start the teaching traning in november.... that would be a dream, so better not to hold my hopes too tight!

hampton court

... alias Henry VIII's home ...

the many faces of rome

Cultural Rome -- G. and I travelled to La Sapienza University where Mao was graduating in chemistry after 13 years of perseverance. He was smart and radiant in his 70s suit and moustache. His presentation was breathtaking, and he defended his thesis very well from the professors' acid remarks.

Historical Rome -- V. and I visited the Catacomb of San Sebastian on Appia Antica. We had a guided tour and learnt that it is the only complex with both a pagan and Christian backgrounds. The same day, we also visited a war memorial, grim and moving: the apartment-turned-prison in via Tasso where Nazis imprisoned Partisans the year before liberation. There were touching messages engraved on the walls, newspapers' extracts and portraits of the various heroes and victims. We noticed how patriotic people used to be back then –- which is admirable and two-faced at the same time.

Culinary Rome -- For dinner V., A. and I went to a Jewish restaurant in the ghetto. I dared to try carciofi alla giudia (Jew artichokes) and coda alla vaccinara (cow tail)! It was the first time I savoured Roman/Jewish food and found it delicious and extremely delicate, despite the gross idea of eating tail.

Artistic Rome -- I finally enlivened my artistic dream of admiring Apollo & Daphne and The Rape of Proserpina at Galleria Borghese. The white marble of their skin, their deep facial expressions and the care of the details (Pluto’s hand sinking into Proserpine’s tight, Apollo’s defined muscles and veins and Daphne’s drapes) made me blush.

Apollo & Daphne, Bernini

Pluto &Proserpina, Bernini

Convivial Rome -- After a fat lunch based on tonnarelli cacio e pepe (hand-made pasta with Roman pecorino cheese and pepper) and a failed attempt to visit the not-Catholic cemetery (also known as the English cemetery) where Shelley and Keats rest amongst other less romantic characters, A., U., Mao and I explored la Garbatella, historically working class suburb of Rome, which has become today a fashionable spot to live. Its colourful council blocks, built in an elaborated style under Vittorio Emanuele’s directions, were an oasis of peace. At the nearby Teatro Palladio there was an experimental performance festival which I could not miss. Weird and histerical dance movements and moments of meaningful stillness followed one after the other.

Domestic Rome -- Sunday was spent mostly at home with mum, dad, uncle, aunt, cousins... Dad entertained us with his new passion: cinema. He spends a great deal recording and watching films and has also deviced an home-made technique to add extras to DVDs: he downloads film information from the internet (synopsis, cast info, historical background, meaning of the title, etc.) and … here everything becomes weird … he points his camera to the computer and films the screen, then he transfers it onto the tape and finally onto the DVD. He explained this process so proudly that we did not dare to say that there is actually an easier way of doing it...

al fresco

it's not as tropical as it has been in the last two weeks but i enjoyed my time clearing the balcony and rearranging the new furnitures...

paprika sirloin steak wrap - jamie oliver's recipe

symbolic pieces

Hamsa, protection against negative energies, is a a sacred gestures symbolizing receipt of blessings from the universe.

OM, the sacred sound of the universe, vibrates throughout all existence bringing inner peace and harmony.

beach bitch

one pieces with a twist:

wolford boutique

American Apparel

Adorable beach running suits:

Boden

American Apparel

the funkiest tees of the season:
Vintage glasses:

un po' di zucchero

unexpectedly we got four tickets to go and see him - one of the few italian stars with international stature, at the Royal Albert Hall - such an awesome venue!

The Moment Art Changed Forever

with Aurelie, friend, photographer, translator, fellow blogger and much more, i had the honour to have access to the airy member area of the tate for a light meal and pleasant chat before embarking in the visit of 13 rooms, filled with the most bizarre creations which sprang out of the mind of three (anti)artist - Man Ray, Picabia and Rose Selavie. in november 2005 i saw the dada exhibition at the pompidou centre with other french friend and ex-uni and fellow traveller federica. i remember the date so neatly because it is the same weekend we put the offer on our flat and we entered in a (for me long-distance) mini bid war which we eventually won. paris is for me repository of sweet memories. so, maga and i were quite sure that the london exhibition would have been a copy-cat of the french one. we were so wrong...

the tate presented a career excursus of the three men's career as individual painters as well as initiators of the DADA movement. also, unlike the french counterpart, stuff was not camped in one big room but all the paintings, installations, nonsense, photos and ready-made objects were orderly displayed across 13 topical rooms (objects, light, eroticism, transparency, etc.), which we did not manage to cover in one go! so, we are going back tomorrow - the luxury of being a tate's member.

We spent a few minutes in front of this magistral work which rose much furore when it was first released.

Marcel Duchamp
Nude Descending a Staircase No.2 1912

Marcel Duchamp
Young Man and Girl in Spring, 1911

interesting way to depict a wife - just a tiny bit mysoginist:

Duchamp
The Bride Stripped Bare by her Bachelors, Even (The Large Glass) 1915-23

Francis Picabia
Daughter Born without Mother, 1916-17

i love this vampire-like portrait:

Man Ray
Marquise Casati, 1922

Francis Picabia
Conversation I, 1922

the infamous ready-made art:

Marcel Duchamp
Fountain, 1917 replica 1964

Sun Salutation

i made it! for the second time this week i went to morning yoga classes.

alarm clock at 6/6.30, quick shower, some fresh air, quick ride on an empty bus and there i am - ready for a bunch of well deserved sun salutations. shame that after two solid weeks of sun, it was grey both times i was saluting the sun...

after the class i got (free) porridge and a strawberry/peach smoothie and then walked back to my office. nothing worth of mention has happened since. i am waiting for a satellite dish that we will install tonight. reason? to be able to watch italian television. as sad as it can sound, i miss it and it will be a way of being abreast with what happens there in my absence.

next month i am trying, only for a month, bikram yoga - asanas practiced in a super-heated room. i want to taste it because there is an appetising offer but i wouldn't switch it with my current practice (power and astanga) for two reasons:

1. in bikram you practice in an altered environment which makes you think you are more flexible than you really are. i am not adamant of altered perceptions and think it is against the yoga principle of being there with your reality, for how painful it can be. you could argue that our reality is not the true reality, but that would mean entering dangerous philosophical territory...
2. in bikram you don't do inversions.

other than this, i've been fully enjoying the london summer, strolling barefoot on the parks and eating BBQ-ed food. I also managed to go to see Duchamp, ManRay and Picabia (review on its way) and my jappa friend cooked us a delicious jappa meal which has been visually recorded precisely for this blog!

Proud owner of a Vaporella

i am the proud owner of vaporella polti! it was a very welcome present from my cousins. poor guys, they had to drag this beast all the way from italy and be questioned at the airport security. my slowness and reluctance to ironing is proverbial -- watching me ironing is painful. i trust that this powerful new gadget will renew my ironing enthusiasm and ease my work. i have also decided to get a proper ironing board after living with over two years with a table board.remember i broke the basin some time ago? here it is what i have in mind as a replacement - the usual compromise between design, functionality and affordability.

it may also be time for a new washing machine - will depend on our finances. seeing as i come from the Ariston-land, i will have to go for an indesit... this Moon is as stylish as an i-pod and its slim figure would fit in my tiny kitchen.


today was full summer - i started roasting after ten minutes in the sun... i had to go to two routine doctor appointments and walked all the way. i popped into the local DVD store to feed my obsession with Japanese Animes and got Over the Sky for only 50p. the guy told me that new kids' releases are free. sweet! got to tell my little neighbours!

i should be making the most of my balcony. with my wireless connection i could be typing from there. i just need to set it up for this summer mirage with chairs and parasols. what about this director's chair and coordinated parasol?


my only child perfectionism mania is kicking in. my mum, who incidentally shares the same birthday of Queen Elizabeth, is coming in 20 days time and i want the house and its surroundings to be quasi-perfect. hence, my emails and calls to the council and my home shopping frenzy....

i am the best cousin in the world

i survived, just about, to another titanic weekend and accomplished my goal of overwhelming my cousins with the choice this city has to offer. i'll try to avoid another long post of "we did... we went... we saw" - sadly, this is how my reports are turning into: boring recollections of my chronological life. so, this time i shall critically contemplate only the highlights of this london weekend, as the rest of the time we trotted around like headless chickens...

notting hill arts club disappointed me and did not impress my guests. music was experimental and intriguing but did not outweight the £8 at the entrance! Thumbs down!

ping pong was yummy head to toe but made me feel unwell - just too greasy. mirko rejoiced at the dim sum and mohito, while monica nourished herself with strawberry martini as she wants to become a model (seriously). thumbs down! : /

dublin castle was surprisingly good. no fuss, safe choice of brit-rock music, a few camden characters, cheap entrance, affordable drinks, and reasonable closing time (2am).
thumbs up! ^ ^

vanity fair portrait exhibit was good. i had already seen some of those portraits in other photographic exhibition, but still enjoyed admiring once again cecil beaton, man ray, annie leiboviz' camera shoots. monica got a vanity fair 30s cover depicting a caricature of greta garbo -- coincidentally she wrote her final thesis on garbo and her underwear (corsettery, etc.). thumbs up! ^ ^

a modern interpretation of the Grand Odalisque by Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres attracted my intellectual curiosity. julianne moore stares at the camera with a candid and naive look. she looks more restrained than the original (sign of our recession times?) with drapes covering her hips shifting our attention on her porcelaine legs. this photo hangs in my bedroom...

topshop - i hadn't stepped into mecca of fashion in ages. monica got the cutest starred cropped jacket and i came home with a nautical knitted dress and stripy red cardigan made of organically grown cotton and a pair of bright yellow butterfly earrings...

aurelie's birth-picnic-day was the nicest conclusion to a wonderful, if physically tiring, weekend. monica got completely fascinated by aurelie's french charm and quirky look and so grateful for her efforts to communicate in italian to her; so many people turned up and everybody looked chilled and good spirited. steve and mirco never stopped playing while i never stopped chit-chatting.............