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I'm back in fair

I'm back

to renew the appointment at the show! This
time is a wonderful place in Napoli

as Castel Sant 'Elmo
be guided to the stand where I am Tunuè

with Change Skin

many designs and many other authors.
Hello everyone!
I wait.

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Dear,
seems that time is against us.
memory fades, or rather, it crystallizes the good times, but a kind of mental laziness ci impedisce di cercare ancora.
Cosa è successo?! Cosa succede?!
Quale bivio abbiamo sbagliato per non riuscire più a trovare la strada di casa?!
Tutto era bello stando insieme.
Eppure ora, se ci reincontrassimo, una forma di pudore ci terrebbe ancora distanti. Temo i freddi incontri in cui, come vecchie comari ci raccontiamo i bei tempi andati, con il rammarico ed il languore per ciò che non sarà più.
E dire che c’eravamo promessi eterna amicizia, che ci saremmo sentiti e visti, scambiati gli indirizzi. Ma poi si ha quasi la vergogna di riprendere le vecchie agende e rileggere i numeri di telefono che non componiamo più da tempo. Intanto si cerca di conoscere altri e sempre si finge che sarà forever. But that's always hard until you can see, then, when the train left, he takes a breath, raises his chin and turns his back and a vague question arises in a whisper: "I wonder if I'll see you again?! "and more than a question is a statement. You could remove the "knows" and we would have the same meaning. And 'the bitter realization that, deep down, we are afraid of repeating something unique, to ruin, perpetual, a wonderful experience, if the terrible pain, to review, we do not recognize anymore.
And how could we?! Meanwhile, we changed it to look like other people, alone or with others, we lived different lives.
And our friends, what they have done without us?
have lived!
And if we meet again we will try to find fragments funny, bawdy jokes, poking in the monotony of our lives, trying to find something that can also affect them that they have not lived. Then, tired, we retired each to a different side, hiding our embarrassment emotion, telling ricontrarci ready yet, but with the profound hope that this does not happen again.

Suddenly, one day, only to find out that in the end you can also endure the disappointment of seeing everything changed, and try!
Lift the receiver and dialed the number to ring and then issues che rispondano. Alla voce che risponde computi il tuo nome, sforzandoti di ridestare nell’altro il ricordo della tua immagine, ma anche con il terrore d’essere stato inopportuno.
“Come stai?... quanto tempo … e degli altri ne sai qualcosa?...”
Ti rendi conto che stai parlando di sciocchezze.
La confidenza ha bisogno del bisbiglio di un alito fra le labbra, ha la necessità di una complicità di sguardi, di una reciprocità immediata e della vicinanza nello spazio e nel tempo, della frequenza di contatti. Il foglio di una lettere, i pochi minuti di una telefonata o l’incontrarsi dopo tanto tempo non basta, non puoi entrare nel profondo, non puoi capire né essere capito davvero. Potresti say too little or, in a hurry to summarize, you may be violent and displace those who, by convention we now expect a normal conversation: the usual platitudes that tell old friends.

Yeah! That's right: old!
not you realize and you do not want to accept that time changes everything and everyone.
friends should not have any name, neither new nor old, neither true nor false, neither good nor bad.
friends should be just friends.
But how can you do?

Life takes you to meet people with whom he shares part of your existence, and then takes you somewhere else, maybe just a few steps away, but already somewhere else, somewhere else, to live with someone else, struggling to start over. And maybe, somehow, to try to forget, not to suffer over the lack of that part of you that have left them in your friends than before.

God, how difficult it is!
could not stay together forever, without having to fight against memory, against the disappointment against the languor.

My friends love you!
But I do not have the courage to tell you, because the shame of such a statement can overwhelm the recipient and can upset.
do not want anyone to feel indebted to me for the love I have for you. And perhaps for this reason there ever send you this letter, but it was important for me to write (my secret hope is that someday, someone read it and know the infinite good that I feel for you all, my friends). Your

, Salvo.



This letter was written in March of '93 ...
Now I found the courage to send

... I love my friends!!

Club Penguin Accounts 2010

Thanks to Ilaria Ferramosca that has reviewed the Change Skin Magazine "comic strip" of March 23, 2010 read as follows. CHANGE SKIN

A story on the border between fable and news, between the spaces of the sky as boundless and the darkest depths of the subsurface. A desire for hope and rebirth, and the children entrusted to the magic of friendship.


A story inspired many stories, but written in a personal way, the boundary between the language of fiction for children and adult literature.


The author, Marina Novelli, does not hide it, this story contains in itself an important piece of news which swept across Italy in June 1981 , when the small Alfredo Rampi disappeared into the bowels of the earth, in an artesian well near Vermicino. His body was only recovered 28 days after the tragic death, despite the early attempts rescue. But there is another suggestion, given by certain ideals citations of the novel I have no fear, by Niccolò Ammaniti the sunny countryside, echoing screams of happy children running, stir in the wind and the melody of the blades of grass.


All this is included in Exchange Skin, edited by Tunuè in the series Prospero's Book, and this, together with a lot of poetry and sensibility that shows Novelli, through texts and drawings. Shots stifling and dark, forming a counterpoint to images large, airy and bright. The story has the plot narrative of a fairy tale, despite the dark theme and extremely realistic, in which the imagination and determination of the protagonists are children, and puts them in a position to turn into a happy ending, even a tragedy foretold.


The earth, innocent accomplice to a crime, then turns into a sort of mother's womb from which to be reborn, just changing the skin. A metamorphosis that binds hawk, the little victim, his friends Berta, Free and Bigio, unable to surrender to fate and an unexpected villain murderess, at least in fiction, can not and should not restare impunito.


Un romanzo a fumetti da non perdere, un monito per chi non ha mai conosciuto quella tragedia e un sospiro di sollievo per chi invece, quel 13 giugno, non ha smesso per 18 ore di sperare.


Ilaria Ferramosca

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THE WONDERFUL PHOTOS OF LUKE