I’m half Emilian and half Sicilian. I was born and raised in Emilia, but I’ve always had nostalgia for Sicily, identifying myself with my mother, a Sicilian transplanted to the north. I’ve always had this nostalgia for the south, for the warm light, for the breeze from the sea, for the prickly pear cactus plants, for the scent of the Mediterranean scrub.
I’m constantly looking for these elements, and when I find them I’m fine. When I don’t have them near, I miss them. I have discovered that there are places where it is easy to find all this, and where my constant quest to appease nostalgia has rest… these places are the small volcanic islands of the Mediterranean.
I feel at home, even if I’m alone, and I don’t know anyone…
I feel at home in Linosa, I feel at home in Ustica, I feel at home in Stromboli and I also felt at home in Procida, which fascinated me with its soft colors and its history. It fascinated me even if you don’t always see the sea, for its high walls that defend gardens and properties whose beauty I can only imagine. Procida is mysterious. And maybe that’s why it’s fascinating.
Procida is, in its small way, a cross-section of the south, with all its contradictions and wonders.
