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​It was May 2020, in Italy there was the lockdown, Covid was raging, our politicians did not respond with adequate initiatives and we all lived separately, each in their own home, in terror of a lethal virus. Thinking about it now, almost three years later, the feeling that enveloped me was strange, almost unreal. We lived in the anguish of an invisible enemy, it would have been logical to be able to rely on the ruling class, its resources and ability to solve problems by seriously dealing with people's well-being, but we were forced to hope against all the evidence, which, instead, told us that this was a big problem, from which we didn't quite know how we would come out, if and when, above all, perceiving ourselves damned alone, frightened and heartbroken. The terror of death snaked in our hearts. The TV exhorted us to hold on a little and a little more, until things had settled down, even though we didn't see a glimmer of light. We forced ourselves to be optimistic, so as not to perish. We had lost everything, we were prisoners, but we didn't realize it, and, with a prisoner state, it would have been appropriate to accept reality, seek peace and adjust to that order of things, even though we felt it was anomalous, since, apart from the command to stay at home, no other applicable strategies could be seen. We had lost our constitutional freedoms at that juncture and nobody knew the future. It was an alienating feeling to make bread and hope that a resolution of the problem could affect all of us, to lead us towards a bright future. World news told of a deadly pandemic, we were told to be very careful, even though it was really difficult to understand what was really happening all over the planet: we were only told that, if we hadn't been more than careful, we would all have died, after being intubated in some intensive care unit, in who knows which hospital. What we all felt was pure anguish. One morning, after having my coffee, with the effort to maintain my normality, which I have always had as an adult and which I really love, I began to read, but suddenly my thoughts were kidnapped by the presence, in my head, of some Chopin sounds. I hummed them. It was like hearing Richter at the piano playing that succession of notes, from some recording I had on a CD on my shelf. It was a strong sound image, so much so that I stopped reading that newspaper article. Then I went to the keyboard and played that romantic passage. That handful of notes was the opening of a masterpiece of Polish genius. It was intensely lyrical. When I was a teenager and I lived with my father, I studied transverse flute at the conservatory, I had the piano at home and I tried my hand at studying a Nocturne by Chopin, together with some Preludes and Fugues from Bach's "Well-Tempered Clavier", so I can say Strongly, from a young age, Chopin has been a part of my life, considering him the non plus ultra of piano literature. That morning, I played a few notes on the keyboard, reflected on them, savored them, and analyzed their construct. They already had in them, despite the small number of sounds, a wonderful musical atmosphere. I too wanted, in my new composition, that same density of Chopin, to fully express my state of mind, the condition of a man who wanted Humanity to smile carefree again. That pathos and that sublime evocative force were in me, I just had to represent them in a score, with beautiful signs, a process that is not always easy to activate. I yearned, in that fraction of time characterized by the lockdown, that my new music could overcome the physical limits of my home, to reach the home of my fiancée, whose absence I felt terribly, although the two of us made courage every evening on the phone , hoping that that nightmare would soon end and that, as if by magic, our existence full of dreams to be fulfilled, which had been brutally robbed, would be returned to us. After playing those notes, I already had a tonality in my head: D sharp minor. There was a Neapolitan sixth chord to start with, to feel close to Chopin's music that had given rise to my musical vision. I reasoned. I found the notes of that chordal agglomeration, in that tonality, which was so dear to me, having written very often, in recent years, in D sharp minor. I played them. I analyzed the deal. It was beautiful, its effect truly noble. I enriched it with a dissonant note, the seventh of the fundamental and I remained listening to its echo in the room, which immediately moved me to the sensation that this could have been the Incipit of a great new work, which today I bring to the attention of the world. I had a chord, which had been inspired by the great master of piano literature, having the intention of making that set of sounds a key chord. I wrote it, on the pentagram notebook, observing it in its apparent linearity. I got up to go and have a sip of coffee. I went back to my study and tried to continue that chord. Trying and trying again, I found three more chords, with one constant: the note of the soprano's voice should always be D sharp, to create a pedal, in the high register. So I wrote it all down and played out the sequence. I had before my eyes the origin of "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible". The piece was born with the succession of chords written for piano, but almost immediately I had the intuition of creating a symphonic piece, with those notes, which I entrusted to the strings. From there, then, I began to work vigorously on a piece that seemed really beautiful to me. At one point, after days of composition and labor limae, I considered the work finished and archived it, with the intention of listening to it again later. Months later, after coming back to my mind, I listened to it again and decided to enrich the fabric with new harmonic structures and even later I began to write a succession of pieces which, together with the first, "My lady' breast - Portrait of an invisible ”, could constitute a symphonic poem, which thus was born, in two and a half years of commitment, with the homonymous title of “My lady's breast”, divided into 6 parts. "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible" is the original theme, the one resulting from the analysis of a Chopin chord, and bears the term "Invisible", because I, during the lockdown, felt without representation and was able to leverage only on myself and the love of my Partner. "My lady's breast - Second chance" is dedicated to rebirth. A man is born, then flourishes at the exact moment in which he realizes the importance of his life, transforming himself definitively. I experienced that juncture 15 years ago, when I met my partner. "My lady's breast - Ocean", was born from a reflection on how much this existence is a great sea. "My lady's breast - Althea, the center" is a hymn to the Care that interprets everything and heals everything. No man can live without implementing adequate care for those aspects of himself that make him suffer. Care is a sine qua non. "My lady's breast - Isle of Beauty", because love is the island of Beauty. “My lady's breast. Nihil. Hecatomb and Awakening”, however, is the conclusion. We are approaching value 0, to nothing, in a truly monstrous hecatomb, which kills people's psyches, but which, for many, has allowed them to awaken forever. Non-verifiable individuals, always attentive and alert, fight the charms of Power with intelligence, without ever coming to terms with the master of the Universe on duty, raising a new song towards the Beauty of life, which is the primary good of the existence of everyone. This symphonic poem intends to be revolutionary, militant, daring, for the future, for the people, for love… I have been writing for 15 years, ever since my Partner enabled me to have an inspiring Muse. I wish the world was a more just place, rather than a realm where inane ways thrive. The first piece of the sequence, entitled "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible" bears the subtitle "The day", since the moment in which an invisible becomes a Person is day n. 1 of true existence, which begins with identity and love. The metronome indication is: “Andantino, with true passion. The moment of the revelation of one's true Self, in relationship with the other, bpm = 88". The subtitle "The day" represents the day in which you discover that you love someone unconditionally and that you are no longer alone. "My lady's breast - Portrait of an invisible" comes from a Neapolitan sixth chord and is conceived, in its THEME A, as a succession of 8 chordal clusters with a common note for the highest voice. THEME A is performed by 15 different voices. The common note in the highest voice is as if it were a leitmotiv, a leitmotiv, a melodic constant. The piece lasts min. 19:46 and is a modular construction. THEME A and its subsequent transformations are of an elegiac nature, they communicate the nostalgia of the distance from the loved object, they are full of pathos, since they intend to communicate an all-encompassing adherence to the musical score, and represent a communication that takes place in a low voice, in a world of din. The dynamics, from pianissimo to forte, guarantee a myriad of different colors, which allow the sounds to be colorful. The harmonies intend to communicate a mood of longing. It is the orchestral work that best represents me, in its progression. I think I've become a better person since the first lockdown, why? Because now my eyes are open and it can't scare me to see the bottom of the abyss, hoping that this Humanity will find the way to feel good and be happy, loving what one does and dedicating oneself to one's passions, since we are all on the move, trying to find the best way to live all as brothers.

​I have read a lot, in recent years characterized by the pandemic, to understand what we were experiencing, since the extent of the events we were facing almost immediately appeared to me as a watershed and I felt the urgency to understand what were the dominant dynamics of the events, although I felt that something, in the analysis, was escaping me. I informed myself, looking for reliable sources, that it seemed to me that they refused to communicate lies. The more I read, the more I became convinced that it all centered around a big lie, designed to drive people out of their minds and enslave them. I convinced myself that a whole series of small daily lies would then derive from a great lie, to subvert the natural order of existence of individuals and establish a new world order, which no longer had anything human. Every day, still today, a fog is spread that does not allow you to see beyond. They intoxicate us every day. Every day, of this lie, we die, for a thousand different reasons, not least the loss of meaning that many people feel, making them suffer. I'm not in a position to know what people want, but I think they want to live well, cultivate their passions, see the good fruit of their work and live in harmony with people to love, but there is a malevolent force that this does not want to allow it. This perfidious power is the sum of all the evil-minded intelligences we have on the planet, endowed with all sorts of power, from economic to military, who have decided to march together towards a single great goal. They joined. They have common ends. They live to defeat humanity. We can't let them. Day after day, the possibilities for a healthy Revolution are diminishing, but this is the time to try to imagine another type of system capable of guaranteeing people a dignified life. There will be no second half of the game. The individuals against whom we must create a peaceful revolution are unsolved beings, who can no longer be recovered. Theirs is a very serious psychosis, they only know power relations, they do evil, they hate. Yeah, they hate us. They hate the possibility that a person has of living happily even with little. They want to destroy that perspective on life. A ray of light is enough to pierce the darkness. We must be that portion of light. Evil men have always existed, but they cannot be left with the choice to decide the fate of humanity. They have lost their mind. They are ugly and potentially devastating people. They don't have to win. Mankind is under attack. The pieces move patiently along the surface of the board, but we know what's good and good. We question ourselves when the message of a lie reaches us and we have the strange sensation that that information is false, even though we still don't have a rational construct that confirms its mendacity. Very often, time and analysis attest to how much that was really a lie, which hurts, distracts us from our true goals, poisons. We have always recognized the Good. We all know how different a slap is from a caress. We must not let in evil, which creeps into our minds causing sickness and despair. There are too many people already suffering from this psychopandemic. They hate us, yes, that's true. They hate us because we represent a possible life. A dream come true. The journey of a Humanity that can be happy, for its ability to go further. Create. To imagine. To build. This is a realm of Beauty. The Earth is beautiful. Every child born is a work of art. We can't leave everything in the hands of lunatics. A dying society is judged by the decadence of its customs, and here we have already gone further. This magnificent West of the profit god of everything will collapse. It is always the same intrapsychic war between good and evil. It is celebrated every day, in everyone's mind. If they win, Humanity will live in the darkness of evil forever. The stakes are very high. It is our own life and that of our children and grandchildren. I think they have underestimated us, with their sensational means of information. I think they can't know the tenderness of a grandmother who looks after her grandchild and this will be their biggest mistake, because love cannot be bought. The innocent look of a girl walking with her boyfriend cannot be traded for all the money in the world. The smile that a father has when she writes to his distant son cannot be undone. They are shrewd, but they have no emotional intelligence or empathy and when faced with an act of unconditional love, they simply do not understand. They believe that everything can be bought, but true humanity is not for sale. Many of us have seen evil. It is a perverted polymorphous monster that devours. You can't feed it. It would be our last mistake. No one could have imagined at the beginning of 2019 that an emergency like that of Covid would be unleashed globally. The way they have handled it is criminal. Their intentions were criminal. Their pathological plan. They want to take everything away from us. Now they also tell us to eat insects. They enjoy playing with our lives, which, to them, have no value. How many people are sick because of this situation… The deadly disease is despair and they are leveraging that. Their tools of persuasion have refined over time, becoming very fine, the result of unparalleled cunning. They have seduced the greedy, with the tale of easy riches, the myth of the American dream, misleading minds. They are now in a strong position, but the other side of the world is waking up. Only Westerners remain under hypnosis. It's a war. This is a time of great growth. I myself believe that I have left some positions in my life, to reach a broader, more beautiful vision. I write not to forget. I want to remember what I have learned from this worldwide carnage, which drives people crazy, with the risk of never recovering it. Today the children went to school. It is for them that we fight. A human being knows when he is well. His body communicates it to her, his mind communicates it to her with beautiful thoughts. All this cannot end. This Humanity cannot finish. This journey must continue. A healthy society would isolate the unresolved, perhaps forcing them to take care of themselves. Here, however, in full delirium, insane individuals rule the world upside down, where the healthy get sick and have to heal themselves and the psychotics lord it over. We are very far from being a just, fair, upright society. It is that the charms of darkness are persuasive and seduce many. They should be forced to be treated, yes. Exempt from any public office. Placed in a position not to harm anyone, instead they lead the nations, with an increasingly distorted and dystopian narrative. I am the cancer of humanity, now in metastasis. Every day, a baker makes bread. He does it with love. He does it because his is an indispensable job. Every day, a musician wakes up and plays his technique hour. He does it because his work is indispensable. Every day, a teacher teaches the children, hoping to ignite the spark of curiosity and knowledge in them. These things are not for sale. They waged war on us. It is in us the ability to stand out against this pandemonium. We are Humanity and we have many resources. We cannot give in to a plan to exterminate intelligence. They want to take everything away from us. It has nothing to do with money, with boundless power, it's something to do with the blind desire for control: they must be able to determine what people do. What does he see. What does it eat. How do you dress. In this sense they have an inordinate hunger and that's where they want to go. Total control is already in place. They see us as unthinking subjects. They see us as slaves. Only we can oppose with our intelligence. Our creativity. Our enchanted thoughts turned to Beauty… And to think that our planet is a constant source of inspiration, we are surrounded by Pulcriditude, we feel it flowing through our veins. We cannot abandon the field. We cannot resign ourselves. We can't stop hoping that something wonderful will happen. Humanity, in moments of maximum desperation, has always had the courage to get up. We can march together towards the goal of a finally healthy society. We have the right. No one can take it away from us. I write to remind myself where I came from and where I'm going. I write so as not to forget the path that has brought us here. I write to love the ever-present possibility of being able to be new, keeping the station erect and observing the world with a clean eye. I couldn't do anything else. I don't want to do anything else. I am a singer. Hymn to Beauty, which is inherent in a mother's caress for her child. They want us unhappy. Depressed, sick, in body and mind. We can't let them. I want to live well. By making choices that produce my own good and that of the people around me. I want to live. There are many like me in the world. A healthy world awaits us. What are we waiting for to run towards him? Let us not be influenced: we already know what is right to do. Let's do it, every day, as soon as you wake up, grateful to have one more day to pay homage to the Beauty that permeates everything. I'm confident. I will not stop wishing the younger generation the best. A healthy world is already in our minds, let's build it together now!