Angela’s story is the journey of a woman grew up in a city, Prato, that slowly going to build itself, and she was able to cut her teeth in the middle of yarn’s reel, glows and the sixties: the only daughter, Angela: with a mother of impeccable elegance and a father, who passed away few years ago, that she remembers as a shining example of a sturdy teaching, a never intrusive lighthouse to her many life’s choices.
Moorings, matches: in the Angela’s story there’s also the one with a man by the charismatic charm a man of few words: it was the early seventies, in the meantime there were her hopes and the dreams of becoming a self-made journalist, there were the sacrifices and the standstill of life, like those two beautiful daughters who are now mothers themselves, following up that generation of families who bear names so full of stories, values, heritage.
The art of Angela was born just one of that resting day: many years ago the girls left the nest, and at some point the roadmaps disappeared, times to be embedded, lessons, commitments, everything just faded away. At some point, for a Gemini ascendant Sagittarius, air and fire, it came the time to smear everything with ideas and stimuli, because a geyser of inventive and thoughts … somewhere needs to explode.
That afternoon, probably, some colors were next to Angela.
Or a brush, or a frame.
And sometimes things are there, right there, lying on the vanishing point,
before her eyes, when the vacuum needs to find an answer.
From that afternoon a new, adventurous, Angela’s history chapter has started to write by itself.
It’s called “The Art of Angela.”
It tells of an existence without punctuation: a lifetime to read. A life, at last, perfectly free.