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Mezzana From San Lorenzo Bellizzi - Pictures

old photos: the exhibition "The Way We Were," a San Lorenzo Bellizzi - photo by Indio

"Clinging to the mountain country and it was the men. They built a house on the other the country, a house next to the other, separated only by a maze of narrow streets that climb up and down, in every direction. And houses seemed to slip in that position so precarious. This remote and arid gorge that dominates the landscape seems to always remember their fate to the men of stone, is the background and at the same time as a warning. Who wanted to live in a place so desolate and harsh, could gather and meet in a solid architecture community. But as in the past the ancient village was alive and resounded with the voices of old people, women and children, now houses remained empty and sealed doors or open, and old windows open on anything, and fig trees and weeds growing on the steps of houses, for those streets now abandoned, with the walls full of cracks and piles of stones that littered the streets. It 's always the land to decide, and the earth moved. The houses were to witness the presence of men who are no longer born and lived in the bare earth, returning to out of nowhere. Men from those districts scattered around the world. Names remain etched in marble slabs, here as elsewhere, yellowed photos and memories that fade into the oblivion of history. And their stories are mixed up with those walls, that can not speak nor bear any testimony. And then other men came back again, made up the old houses, so new and yet so old, houses were shining with hope in the midst of this dilapidated village. As blooms in dry rocks. The houses of the present or the future maybe. Stubbornly even resurrecting the tenacious will of the people, their struggles and ideologies. And feelings dormant for some time reappeared as plants that bloom all around 'tree down, eager to grow on the roots of the old mother. But against the backdrop of the country's throat is always the same, with those of bare rock walls, gray, hostile, primitive immersed in the desolation of his inscrutable soul ... "
(Indio)

Glimpses

"Those people will receive you in her house, did you rest and eat, and fed to your horse and all cried when you went away. Would you be able to remain there forever. "

(Cormac McCarthy)

Sallorenziani

Franco, along the path leading to the source "Pigpen"

transport of wine to the streets with wheelbarrow

fair in the country

some "boys" in San Lorenzo Bellizzi

evocative image of shepherds to the Plans of Pollino: pictures (a picture) of the exhibition "The Way We Were"

other "young" players , in a cellar

"C ome time lived separate from his memory? And 'this, that we have no way to prove to ourselves. And' what is missing from this map, and design that is no path. Yet it is all we have. "

(Cormac McCarthy)

Along the way