How Loud Is A Desert Eagle

Sardinia

If I close my eyes I can imagine. Months have passed but those colors were as indelible stains on my mind. It might seem like a sunset like everyone else but there, on the island within an island, the most skilled painter had chosen his best colors. The sea rocked the warm rays of the sun and the sky was getting redder, more alive and intense. The golden sand was covered with dark shadows and freed himself from his heat to indulge in the slow rhythm of the waves. The gulls swinging in the sky was not blue. The land on the horizon lit up the night and slowly made its way through the streets, houses and streetlights. No noise in the distance. The silence enveloped everything like in an old dance. The stars were peeping out. The sea horizon was lost to a new land, into the wilderness to the drums, into the unknown. All around me smelled ancestral and colors ... the colors nestled in the innermost part of my mind.

If I get carried away with my thoughts I see the emerald green bushes that stand out against the cobalt blue sea. The red and purple sky at dusk. The black berries of the myrtle and the cliffs. The white lime that covered the walls of houses, so white my eyes hurt. The yellow of the sun and the golden beach. The colors as ingredients of a spell.

When I left I was only 18 years and a thousand dreams. When I left my home I just wanted to get out of that city who had nothing to offer. When I packed it, perhaps with too much pride, I let out all those flavors and those feelings so familiar and so comfortable.

mea Sardinia, queen, mere sea de su pico you to dance around Cherz Faedda. Sardinia 'and cantos, Sardinia' and you ispantos Cherz buliare you Cherz Frimm. Cherz connescher ' sa rejone de sa nostra maledissione.

Quando sono arrivata nella mia nuova città, quando ho iniziato la mia nuova vita, ho capito che non potevo dimenticare la mia terra. Quando mi sono scontrata con le prima difficoltà mi sono accorta che non avrei mai dimenticato il mare.

Ello, ello sorre mala, ello sorte mala juches in sa cara, in su risu, in sas venas. Sardinia femina mala, su cunnu a su sole tue pones. Ispantu! Ite cheres fachere? Si b'at resposta est in su 'entu e si b'at bentu fuit 'ia. Ma si naschet unu frore solu ue si siat est beranu.

Non sarei mai riuscita a farne a meno. When I took the subway I would have liked to run between the daffodils. When I tried to breathe in the exams and the lessons I wanted to lie down in front of mountains. When I was doing way through the traffic lights and I wanted to walk barefoot on the sand and follow the flight of a seagull.

S Ardini land falsos de Poetas de mortores Berosus you and lag augurios sintzeros. Sardinia beautiful istella 'and Chelu: brujes you on your s'inferru Culu and fales in Bolu. Sos perdidores' scrient s'istoria sos binchidores appent knows glory. But it naschet unu solu FROR EU SIAT Beranů east.

When I came home for the holidays lowered window of my car to enjoy the sunrise and I let my hand caress the air full of scents of the early morning hours.

mea Sardinia, queen, mere sea de su pico you to dance around Cherz Faedda.

Sardinia mea.

Sardinia.

Photos and text by Ilaria Biancacci