A sofa turned photo booth. An essay.


To me, it takes time to start writing. The first sentence, almost more than the title, sets the tone and rhythm. The second one untangles the mood, adds a punch in the story, and generally mediates the feelings I want to pass through words. So before starting this blog post, I surgically tried to gather the elements, and come up as rational, poignant and catchy as ever. Sometimes, that takes days. Call it laborious, I simply call it ‘exercise of style’. Words and pictures, these are the places where you find me hiding.

Well, this summer was different, and I wanted to find the perfect format to tell about it.

It started at the point of rupture of my -already precarious, yet promising- stability. I remembered I had already a moment or two of my life similar to that, where it really made the difference to act fast. Pretty much like setting the tone when starting to write. So I acted, I picked a plan, built things. And repeated. And you do it over and over and over again, until it looks normal, almost natural. And when I say I built things, I literally mean that: I created a guest room from an empty room.There, I was on my way back to where I started: doing things, opening up, getting back to the moment when I was fully involved in the thought “sharing is caring”. It generally makes no difference if you leave or you stay, but in the process to decide which one to take, I thought that sharing my misery-turned-plan was enriching. So I reached out to people, and offered my flat to everyone who wanted to visit Berlin. My beautiful home and my pretty guest room. My only request was to come with and elegant change of clothing for an elegant picture.

I can finally summarise the experience: I loved it. And I can’t wait to have another similar plan. And a sofa to take picture on. More to come, my friends, more to come.








P.S. I was supposed to edit a bit the pictures but then they were already so cute and I have #zerotime so #zerosbatti guys