Category Archives: My Streams Of Consciousness

Dear readers…(I’m not going anywhere)

Dear readers,

as I’m sure you’ve noticed, this blog has been quiet for a few months now. There have been many changes in my life lately, and this is the main reason behind my silence: I needed to take a break from this blog to give more energy and time to other aspects of my life…BUT, and I’d like to stress BUT, I’m still here, and I do intend to stay.

From the next few weeks, I’ll be back on these pages. I’ll be focusing more on translating and writing editorials and analysis, rather than news articles. This, because I think fellow bloggers from Struggles In Italy have more capacity and energy (i.e. more people!) to do that kind of work. I also would like to work a bit more on my Music and Films sections, which make me slightly sad every time I look at them…;-) So, loads of autumnal propositions, as you can see…I hope you all stick around.

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Mutevolmente vostra,

Italy Calling.


Ventilazione – Ivano Fossati

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Occupy Rome – one week after

One week after the now (in)famous Roman 15th October that ended up on worldwide headlines as “the only protest of the Occupy movement that ended in violence and riots”, and here we all are reading and writing about it. At the end of the protests 70 people had been injured, and 12 arrested during the riots in Piazza San Giovanni. All of the arrestees are young and have no previous criminal record, like the ones arrested for the events of December 14 last year (all consequently released without charge). The following days several social centres and private houses were raided by the police (in search of black hooded sweaters, no doubt). Some MPs suggested the re-introduction of anti-terrorism laws that haven’t been used in Italy since the 70s. Rome’s Mayor banned any demonstration in central Rome for a whole month, excluding sit-ins (cos they look nice, I suppose, you know, it’s good for the tourists). Continue reading

The year my eyes were opened

In 2001 I was 22 years old and was at university, complaining about the amount of exams I had to do. That year in July, while many others went to Genoa for the G8 protests, I went back home to Rome, not convinced Genoa would have been the right place for me, and not being part of a group I could go with. I didn’t feel I really belonged anywhere and I was too shy to go on my own. Continue reading