Gnocchi Artyst is an installation artist who live in Toronto, Canada.



Excerpts from journal , 2003


Map used for the walk from Pian di Scó to Firenze: Large map >> Google Map >>

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12:20 pm

All right, it’s time to go now. Still can see the Arno river from above, it’s down in the abyss. But soon it will part from this road. I can see the highway and the railroad on the other side of the abyss.

Looking down to the abyss, I just realize that I am not “fording springs”, I am not “crossing forests”.

Damn f**king shit!

I remember one time I rode my motorino for 150 kilometers in Vietnam to find an old peasant woman that I'd read about in newspaper. I didn’t have the exact address, I just knew the name of the area. But I did find her. I still remember being scared of the sight of the highway at that time. I don’t know where I found the courage to do that. But then she was not like the person that I had imagined and expected to see. Yet it was fine. Then I rode 150 kilometers back. All in one day, it was a Sunday too. And I didn’t tell anybody about that, before and after the trip...

I am thirsty more often.
Hope I can buy some water in the next town.

Passing a tree full of small red fruits. Pick one and eat.
Hope it’s not wild and poisonous.
It’s sour.
It’s like wild plum.

I see a hen. She is wandering around. There are cylindrical haystacks.
There’s another hen.
It looks peaceful.
It’s a peaceful life, before going to a soup pot…haha…
I turn back shortly to take picture of that.

roads of paradise
“I see a hen. She is wandering around. There are cylindrical haystacks.”
12:56 pm Out of Burchio.
It’s an unfamiliar name, it’s not on my map. But there’s no way to go back, I don’t have that energy. If it’s wrong, let it be wrong!

Actually I did see the sign saying Burchio when I reached it, but I didn’t think it’s the name of a town. I thought it was the name of a hotel nearby.

Keep going up and down hills.

I want to stop but I am all alone on the country road. It’s better to keep going. Hoping to reach a town soon. A man's riding his motorbike up hill. He turned back to ask if I want a ride. I said “No, thank you”. I was scared.

Don’t want to talk about feet.

1:06 pm Reach Palazzolo.
So I am on the right way.

Pass by a house. Suddenly listen to the music, a man's singing, he has a very deep and tender voice.

Oh, my broken heart!

A middle-aged woman was sitting in the shade, in front of the house. She was doing something, like sewing.

I almost run out of water.
Still can’t find any store to buy, hope I can find it soon.

1:36 pm Keep going.
1:40 pm Out of Palazzolo. map >
I am half-way to San Donato, Lorenzo!

Why don’t anybody call me to see where I am?
Wish to reach San Donato soon. I am worrying about my water.

Oh, the birds are singing all the way, but I didn’t notice.
Wondering how my feet are when I take my shoes off after reaching home.
I don’t want to see them now.

1:58 pm

Stopped at a house in the middle of nowhere. Saw a woman, hesitated and then called her.

Mi scusi!
Buon giorno!” she said.
Buon giorno. Can you give me some water?” I hold the almost empty bottle high above my head.
She said something like “Aqua”. I said “Si!

She went into the house and asked the man bring a bottle of water for me.
It’s cold water! Thanks goodness!

Grazie mille.
Prego, prego.
Ciao. Buon giorno!

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