You and me

Me: “Do you want a coffee?”

You: “But you don’t drink coffee.”

Me: “No, but I keep coffee for my friends.”

You: “Okay, then.”

Me: “What did you do this morning?”

You: “I followed what the day offered me… art is a calling.”

Me: “Are you creative in everyday life too?”

You: “Why not? It opens up possibilities. What about you – what do you do when you wake up in the morning?”

Me: “I go out on the terrace and watch the plants grow. Come see – here, I’ll give you this strange plant with aerial roots. In spring, it blooms with these beautiful red and purple flowers.”

You: “That’s a beautiful thing. It doesn’t take root, but it lives.”

Me: “Yes, and it’s not a parasite to other plants. It’s independent. You can move it, and it multiplies. Plus, it protects the pots from Stalin the cat, who always wants to dig in the soil.”

You: “Your cat Stalin attacks the plants. Look, now he’s sleeping on the couch, dreaming of the little birds printed on the cushion.”

Me: “Have you never had pets at home?”

You: “When I was in Tuscany, there were passing cats, a toad, and wild boars behind the house. I like animals that come and go.”

Me: “We’re in a dialogue that’s been going on for fifty years…”

(Alessandra Pacelli and Lino Fiorito)