That undefined face smiling, then the curtain of hands, then there it is again.
\u201cPeeka\u2026\u201d
The wait for those hands to open again, the hope that that smile will return.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201c\u2026boo!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That game tells us that nothing is lost. There is no anguish if there is something left, after the greetings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But can we say it better?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It’s not like the half sandwich you find on Sundays when you pack your backpack.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Is it something that stays\u2026or something that is done?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Let’s go in order. We say hello, I don’t see you anymore and\u2026then?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
How do I close my eyes and still see you?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Making \u201cdisappear\u201d is not synonymous with losing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
May the \u201cconcrete\u201d, the figure, disappear to give birth to\u2026more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“boo!”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But \u201cother\u201d than?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I counted them: we said 37367889 words to each other, we breathed 8000 times, I blinked about 60 times but\u2026what’s left?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But put like that, it’s a bit\u2019 like Dr. Frankenstein\u2026trying to rebuild life with things\u2026death.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For this reason, the technique, the advice, the indications are reassuring. They are the parts to keep in your backpack, they are precisely \u201cthings\u201d concrete.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But they wither\u2026because they are not \u201cown production\u201d.
So much for care and autonomy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So the end of the session is not to take the flowers\u2026but to make spring?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2026that \u201cpeekaboo\u201d is an opportunity to open psychic eyes, closing physical ones.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And As Pennac says \u201cimagination doesn’t mean lying<\/em>\u201d, it’s the world you invent after, when you close the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The \u201cperception\u201d ends, we return to the world outside and \u2026an unconscious image of that relationship is created.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It’s not like the sandwich that goes through your mouth, you digest and it becomes\u2026 oh well, you know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He chooses another path, not chewable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It goes through the belly, the affections and then reaches the eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Finding an unconscious \u201ca-boo!\u201d, which is transformation of the relationship.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2026 which enriches our internal image.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Gianluca Ambrosini<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" That undefined face smiling, then the curtain of hands, then there it is again.\u201cPeeka\u2026\u201dThe wait for those hands to open again, the hope that that smile will return. \u201c\u2026boo!\u201d That game tells us that nothing is lost. There is no anguish if there is something left, after the greetings. But can we say it better? […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":16,"featured_media":7789,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7785","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-blog"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n