Friday, May 29, 2009

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Joy - Joy Part II

It is said that love has no age, and that just overwhelms you when it arrives, and never more apt phrase as this was my reality! The reason was very considerable difference in age between me and Joseph, he, the dear friend of my brother, a frequent visitor to my house, now increasingly present in most occasions, both planned and random. I attended the first year of high school, he also consigliatomi, who saw me in a promising student, full of hunger for knowledge and he was an expert on this, being now a respected university professor, and he confided in me a certain success in their studies. Joseph often lavish in helping with homework, had become like another family member, we had an afternoon appointment, made of study tips and much more. I loved everything about him, her perfume, her smile, her eyes that seemed to want me to read in, the slight trembling of the hands, sometimes resulted in emotion, not biased to ever make me understand his feelings, but I understood them well I beat his heart pounding when I saw it or when, during a writing or other I just touched the hand (I would not have not even washed that hand, just to keep still nice sensation). Joseph while he was performing a task as soon as I stroked his head, justifying his actions behind a "you're tired little real ?"... but I knew that behind that stroke was much more than a simple statement of my fatigue. It was the graduation day of my brother, Joseph, of course there was also with us, programmed with each other after the graduation ceremony to be done to celebrate the event, and I was there that I listened to them, watching them, joking and laughing I almost kept on the sidelines, I knew that my brother would never have brought with them, I was small for him, that love of a brother who was, to say nothing ... we understand each other is not it? But Joseph could almost impose that day, said to He was right that I share in his party, and his eyes sought the 'approval and Consenzo by my father, who seemed quite favorable and the treasure of my brother, in a choked voice, as if he were swallowing a toad, I said, "oh well we carry with us the addeva" (small), I would not even carry on their shoulders, both weighed the thing. I was there to tell him there for four of mine and I thought, "you graduated, but always remain stupid" ... I was careful not to tell her, I would have then made out with his friends: in short, it was a str .....!! I waited anxiously in the evening, I spent an entire afternoon looking for the most appropriate dress, I wanted to look a little bigger, I wonder why! I nod with my head as I write this sentence, because I knew very well why, I wanted to see me alone with him, Joseph did not interest me any more. I put a nice simple black evening dress, gliding gently on my hips as if trying to mold them even more, a hint of a "gap" on the front of the dress gave glimpses of my thighs, a nice cleavage emphasized my breasts, where the end the neckline had a yellow rose malicious applications, such as to complete or sign a pretty picture. It was so nice to see! I just picked up my hair with a comb edged with tiny "crystals", and down like waves on my back, I truccai slightly just a little bit of eyeshadow on the eyelids and a little mascara on the lashes, my blue eyes seemed to shine that night, I was happy, a bit of lip gloss, a few drops of fresh fragrance ... and here "the addeva" (the baby) that had been transformed into a little woman! I looked in the mirror, my mom what I like (notice my innate modesty!). As always telling me I smile as I write, in short, I was transformed from duckling to swan ... and swan ! A black swan ... too sexy! But that treasure, love jewelry and I say no more, my brother, instead of making me a compliment at least looked at me and said, "the frog did the restoration." God 's would have killed the moment, but I could not do it, everything would be solved in one of our usual skirmishes between brothers and I could not afford it, I wanted to go out with them and then swallowed the bullet, be limited to a terse "but go to hell!" , that class and not with nonchalance. Only Joseph complimented me on my look, looking always with discretion, I murmured, "you are beautiful, blossom more each day, the wonderful pink on the breast, leading you cancel on you." I sat on the balls of my feet (he is much taller than me), half-closed eyes giving him my face and he kissed me on the head timidly, and touched with a caress my hair ...

Monday, May 25, 2009

Menstruation Before Date

grows ...

the years passed, my hair grew longer and shorter skirts, immature little girl's body gave way to a considerable body of woman, life narrowed and highlighted well-shaped hips, my thighs were no longer those of a girl and you were well out from under the skirts, and my breasts rounded quarreled with her bra, just did not want to be there! But Mom said that was not good that you see my nipples from under her shirt, but it was not my fault if they had become so malicious? And I was growing up would see even friends of my brothers, their visits became more frequent and their "stain to" back it was obvious! I enjoyed when they were all for showing off, were "cock fighting" ... that stupid! They were competing to see who could be more beautiful in my eyes. I was not interested any of them ... well, almost anyone. One of them a little aroused my curiosity, a dear friend of my older brother was different from others, perhaps because it was mature, had a behavior that is detached from the rest of his friends. I was so obnoxious, but ... called me "Nica" (small), took me chocolates, stuffed animals, even the candy melon, that stuff ... disgusting! He treated me like I was still a child, he inquired whether I had done my homework (but then what he cares?) And I got to the point that sometimes, when he came to my house, I shut myself in my room. Could not bear it at all! He was not joking with me like other friends of my brothers, it was not "stain to" did everything possible to perform in "wheels peacock," he observed quietly, never joke or silly jokes, his relationship with me most was a kiss and a pat on the head when he came to greet me, saying a "first kiss to Nicuzza" (a kiss to the little sooner), some fitting phrase like "how's school?" or "did you eat all day" ... and then sun or chatting with my brother listening to music. I at times I hid behind the bedroom door, watching them through the slot of the jamb, retaining the breath for me to not find out from them and I was so obnoxious it, but it was really a handsome man, tall, sporting a nice physique, his florid muscle was evident and made him even more attractive, more elegant, dark-haired, eyes seemed to shine, beautiful lips and white teeth stood out on his face lightly tanned. Too bad that can not stand ... But it was not bad at all! They spent the days, months, and his visits to my house I do not know how ... were more frequent. Slowly getting used to his presence, I spent a little more time in the mirror, I wanted to find myself a little in order, choose the dress that I was better, I spent a bit of makeup, brush for well My hair, he liked so much and I liked them when I absent-mindedly stroking, left on them a trail of light scent and also make the shoes. Rather frequently, in fact, I resumed my habit of not to put them in the house, because I love being barefoot, with a sweet smile and he pointed out to me "Joy but you're always barefoot!" He said, and gave me a pat on the cheek, how can a little girl to call her lovingly. Often offered to help me to make me repeat a few lessons a little tricky and I, as I explained some subject, the observer, sometimes not even listening to him, I liked the scent of expression and the small rocket that was formed near eyes ... the His warm voice, rather than clarified, confused me ideas!

Thursday, May 14, 2009

What Is The White Stuff At The Side Of My Clit

Little Joy - Little Joy

After deep reflection, he realized that it was not for me, the monastic life ... oh yes! Why was a child I wanted to become a nun, but I think ... me dressed as a nun! Of course I changed a little the monastic style of dress, shortened some long skirts, some "gap" in the skirts, where it would be seen a delicate lace garter belt, a bit of cleavage on her breasts and then ... just go, otherwise excommunicate me for life! I would have been a nun too sexy, but Monaca di Monza! So my life went, like all girls my age: study, friends, some time to dance, but thought it was among my favorite as "scrub" my brothers always! The thought was our mutual, maybe we do not sleep at night sometimes! I only "fimminedda helpless at home", or only defenseless girl (can not imagine how I smile as I write), at the mercy of "du mascula overbearing brothers", that two brothers bully who did everything to make me understand that they were older brothers and blah .. bla .. bla .. and I had to obey certain criteria sexist. "To my sti that?" (To me these things ?)... Never! It was they who had to change their way of thinking, has never said that I had folded easily supporting, I "broke me, but I do not bend!" In short it was a constant struggle, where the weapons were made available to verbal confrontations, where they were out differences of opinion between them, like a sentence that sent them into a rage when I told them "God created woman to be forgiven for having created man ". I do not say education for their answer ... 'm sure you've guessed it! I also learned a trick to not take me by the hair during sudden rush to escape after some of my resentment, how to listen to telephone conversations with their love, which gave the best of their own corny as ever, and then began to mock them, I spent my long braids around her head and secured by clips and then ... pigliatemi if you do it! It will tell you more, I learned to beat the game of poker. I was good at "bluffing" on warm summer evenings in the countryside often were organized poker games to the death with my brothers, sometimes there was also a friend of theirs, and this gave rise to more aggressive play poker. Imagine a summer evening among the scents of orange blossoms, the singing of crickets, moths who delighted in turning around the lamps and abundant golden bunches of grapes hanging from the patio of our house that turned into a gambling den on the table there were cold drinks, dried almonds, cookies, cherries or figs. I, even though c ome usual I had no game in hand, remained impassive, did not reveal a fold of disappointment on my face, with cigarette in hand, lips, smoke that fogged my vision, always raised by who knows what I believe in my hand and looked at them straight in the eye with cool look, like a real poker pro, I do not understand they often did not even just a pair in your hand but I was rubbing them for good! It was the end, however, that things are reversed, because when they realize that bluffing ... were really racing for survival, we tiravamo all mandarins, figs, we exchanged kind words re not petibili, all accompanied by the reproaches of my mother trying to keep calm by telling us not to scream that he was not acting like we were doing well .. . but she cried most of us! Ah, these men do not admit defeat even the ... honest, playing poker.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

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third party - part

But what did all that I was only thinking and books? Nooo! Not at all, but ... I want raconte espisodio some of my childhood and a bit of me to give you an idea of \u200b\u200bhow I was "thoughtful." As a child attending a school run by nuns very well known in Catania, was run by strict nuns, was the compulsory "school uniform", a full pleated skirt made of a blue, white shirt with round collar and jacket with pocket where the mother had embroidered my initials. How sweet, earnest in my uniform ... seemed to bear a burden on him, not it was my uniform! I was a kid, do not know how I smile as I remember, I was a child educated, respectful, always willing to help classmate, silent, attentive ... but that, for nothing! It's not that same careful, indeed, the nun stared into his eyes, so they seem very interested in the lesson, but my head would go elsewhere ... was not my fault, I swear! I did it without realizing it, but Sister Nina and I noticed it "chirps" with a loud voice that seemed to appeal to a shock in my brain, I thought it was better if he had given to the opera ... did some sharp! In short, I screamed, he could not understand me, my mind went beyond ... I thought, "but when it ends?". I remember my classmate, his name was Rosanna, was the face of those that just did not want to do anything and tried to cheat his neighbor, Sister Nina had put her close to me, said I should help it sometimes ... but sometimes! She also wanted enterprise engaged all their duties, I copied the problems and I was pulling the strings even if not helped, in fact a lazy, I had mistaken for a missionary, all dedicated to helping! Not at all, I took her out of spite snack from the bag, at least I did pay for the services rendered! And then she wept so, it was a real complaining! Two of my teachers were really a "Odd Couple", remember Laurel and Hardy? Identical, only they were dressed as nuns. A skinny, Sr. Clare, gaunt face, with the air vanished, blacks round glasses on his nose, the other fat, Sister Joan, her face cicciotello and two red cheeks that seemed to have got a sunburn on her face, framed by the white bands that Headgear cassock seemed that it could explode at any moment. I do not capacitive as could be, say, "round", my innate curiosity did not give me peace, I understand why fo iff so different from Sister Claire, so I slipped under his clothes, I had to see for yourselves! .. . Do not tell you what a scandal! I remember like now, she wriggled, she raised her skirts, shouting "get out now Joy", as if shouting had to put on a mouse under his cassock, I fear I held on to his leg to a leg that looked like a rosy smile thinking about it, I had desecrated the skirts of Sister Joan! It followed several complaints and accusations, accompanied by the presence of my father, apologizing to Sister Joan, almost seemed to want to sink to the incident ... but what do you think would be better to take the question of the difference in physical life? Big tears came down my face, Dad could not resist, he understood me, took me in his arms as if to console me and said, "Joy, my darling, but just the thighs of Sister Joan had to go and watch? My fear is that now not dine with fright !"... and snorted in laughter. I held her, could not be much more severe, God how I miss! A kiss Daddy.

Monday, May 4, 2009

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Cantamaggio Tatti Tatti in 2009




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Cantamaggio




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Cantamaggio 2009 to 2009



Sunday, May 3, 2009

Is Owning A Platypus Legal In The Us

Cantamaggio Tatti Tatti in 2009



Cantamaggio This is a festival celebrates the return of spring and the awakening of nature from its winter sleep, the origins of the event seem to be able to bring back to pagan rituals and tribal practices related to rural that they intended to celebrate the return of good weather and in a certain way to thank the gods for favorable summer harvest. The current
Cantamaggio, in fact, inspired by an ancient city habit: the "Maggiaioli" also called "maggianti", whose literal translation is to be "holders of May" (a flowering branch to which was suspended a lantern) went from house to house singing folk songs and love songs, often received in exchange for money or food and then planting the twig in the ground for good luck and fertility. (Wikipedia)

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Women's Val di Cornia - photographic project by Sabine Korth



"Women of the Val di Cornia" - between tradition, modernity and habitat.
photographic project by Sabine Korth. OBJECTIVE


View a continuity in change. What has been passed fit to try to make that become something permanent. I would like to investigate the change
el 'continuous adaptation to new needs of women in the Val di Cornia.


HABITAT Habitat is primarily about the identity of a lifestyle in relation to 'his environment and my openness to change. My priority
as a photographer is the credibility (truthfulness) of my images. So register with attention, the link to the territory and the real identity of women in Val di Cornia.

REALIZATION
A portrait of a woman "in the various occupations, regions and contexts, ie the background from which historically and the environment in which they live now.
Luisa, a former physician of Milan, is now producing cheese in an area of \u200b\u200bstainless steel which recalls his earlier work in the hospital environment.
Elena, with a special sensitivity to his hotel has created a perfect harmony of comfort and contact with nature.
Laura, had a good insight for your farm: making inroads into the market offering accommodation with four-legged friend.
MY ABILITY
For more than twenty years living and working in this county. During this period I have observed with curiosity the lifestyles of women around me.
D 'on the other hand my German origin gives me the opportunity to view a "detached and impartial. RESULT


The project is aimed at a traveling exhibition and a book.

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Little Joy - Part

are returned a little later tonight, but we know that when you're with friends and the company is agreeable time flies and I've exaggerated a bit, which is not from me, drinking some beer that made me sick last night ... I swear, no more overkill! This morning I got up with difficulty, it seems as if I had passed a truck on him, my cat Miss looked at me puzzled, stumbling a little and I had a terrible headache. Now should be the bitter black coffee, at least I get back up, I had not even had a hangover, I can not stand even a couple of glasses of beer! I look in the mirror, oh my! I'm the one that is reflected? My face is pale, competition is almost the color of my nightgown, were it not for the bodice embroidered with colorful bouquets of flowers confuse me with the same! Come on, I just have to clear my head under the shower, the last chance of salvation at this moment, I have too much to do, I have to give me a stirred! Mom sent me several packages of books, I have not yet been opened, all waiting patiently for me to open them. Wrapped in a soft pink dressing gown, her hair held a "turban", I feel reborn! It took a good shower. I take some books out of the box, I have to tell us below I have left little time and are at the final sprint, I can not sleep on it! While comb my long hair flip through the pages of a book, oh my ... a picture of my father with me in her arms, was sure to be mom put it there, where he knew I would find indeed. What a nice surprise! Instinctively, I kiss my father's face, the port on my breast as if to embrace him, as I was small in this photo, wearing a dress carnival, that of Little Red Riding Hood ... could not bear it! On my face you can see all my refusal to it, I had a sullen face that emerged from a cap of red satin with white merlettino, my braids since slipped down to the white apron looked like a panther in the guise Little Red Riding Hood ... I was so black that day! And my father looked at me puzzled, as was already regretting having made me wear that mask. He understood me, we were almost in symbiosis us. Daughter wanted, desired, the birth mother told me that he cried for happiness, he could not say anything more "than joy, my God, what joy you gave me ... and here from there my name Joy, some unusual, non-classical it exotic, but reflected the state of 'mind of my father, his joy was born. I was born in May, early in the morning, after a long ordeal of childbirth, mother said that I complicate life even then, I grew up in a family where, without rhetoric, applies love, respect and understanding. My brothers in their own way tried to achieve from the outset the arrival of the 'intruder,' I messed up in some without their territoriality: in short, had arrived that would have put them in line! You can not imagine how I smile when I think how I would respond now and I dream to write it down, it would also say ... vulgar?! As a child, my father told me that I had something more than the other kids, I always thought he said it for love, he was my strong point in the age of one hundred because, often turning to my mother to have a explanation for a question I sent it back I saw a "then tell you", perhaps too busy for her to do, I do not always satisfied me and I took it that much, then I would wait ato dad, he would not let me with my doubts in my many "why?". I waited for him at night, put me on his lap while he dined, and I began to ask "Daddy, tell me why we are born, because they are diseases, so why ?"... He never tired, trying to explain things in a simple way to satisfy my hunger for knowledge. My father taught me to read and write: I did not even five years, maybe less, and already I could read and write thanks to his patience. I remember my first "crosswords" I liked them, sure, I was the simplest, this I did not know I was looking for on the books, as he did and how I had advised him to do. My teacher in elementary not believe that I did this, and I remember I put to the test on the board, with a simple framework similar to the pattern of the crossword puzzle with interlocking simple questions, to which I gave the answer by completing the picture. I said "you, little one, you really are a joy !"... had been shocked and surprised, I thought it was just very fond of me. As the years passed, I grew up, my body was turning sour, filled up my hips, my breasts are rounded, the facial features of children leave the place on my face to those of a woman, keeping her eyes as clear as those of my father and dense foliage long hair like my mother died on a rosy complexion that underlined everything. Are temperamentally very patient, but how CHARACTERISTICS of my zodiac sign, Taurus, if we pull "too much rope" So then I see red and I assure you that I become really furious! I love art, sculpture, painting, I paint when I have free time, I have a lot of imagination, I do not stop at one answer, he looks the other to satisfy my why, that still accompany me in my hunger for know ". I can not stand the arrogance, synonymous with ignorance, and no respect for others, love my music, but what pleases me, made me relax and classic notes that accompany my thoughts. I love my silence, the search for myself when the loneliness is my companion and I am just me and myself, and try to analyze to improve myself. Even as a young girl I had my days no, I took some books and I shut my bedroom, among my things, I wanted to be alone, ignoring the complaints of my mother, who justified it all with a "Miss now has the moon wrong! Maybe Mom was also correct, but I felt the need to isolate myself, maybe to find a search ....