This is my entry for #monomad challenge by 
I lived in Genoa for some years, some times ago.
I usually took my camera and walked around street and old shop to take pictures of places and people would be forgotten, to save from an even more uniformed world this 'invisible' places and atmospheres.
During my trip, I usually met some players.
I loved the meloncholy from their instruments, first of all the accordion. Players with an accordion were usually (but not always) more intimistic, and you could understand that from their eyes.
People sadder, but I think more free to live an authentic life.
(Piazza Banchi, Genoa)
(Via degli Orefici, Genoa)
(Teatro Carlo Felice, Genoa)
Here a song I love, by Fabrizio De Andrè, a famous man, poet and singer who born in Genoa.
Jones, the player (Il suonatore Jones)
In a whirlpool of dust
the others saw drought
it reminded me
of Jenny’s skirt
in a dance many years ago.
I felt my earth
vibrate with sounds,
it was my heart,
and so why till it again
how to think it better.
Liberty I have seen it sleeping
in the tilled fields
from heaven and money,
from heaven and love,
protected by barbed wire.
Liberty I have seen it wake up
every time I have played
for a rustle of girls
at a dance
for a drunk companion.
And then if people know
and people know you can play,
playing is up to you
all life long
and you like being listened to.
It ended up with fields of weeds
it ended up with a broken flute
and many memories
and a raucous laughter
and not even one regret.
Analogic pics taken with Yashica FX-3 and Nikon Fe2, Ilford Hp5 film.
