Culture. Eat it
29 March 2018
The no-love melody
When I think about the music I usually think about the men of my life.
The men that I’ve loved, no matter how long.
Those ones I still live, no matter since when.
When I think about music, I usually think about my father also: the person who taught me how to appreciate it.
Probably, in both cases, I consider music a good way to communicate or get in touch with all of them.
I remember my father driving to Brindisi during those infinite journeys in our late 90’s holidays.
I stared to him, watching his reflect on the reaviewer mirror, trying to guess which one of those Sade’s, Mina’s or Battisti’s song were his favourite ones.
I think about him and our dinners too, when we preferred to talk about the Mogol’s poetry rather than about something trivial. Something really unusual for our family.
One day, I was about 18, I talked to him about some difficulties I had, regarding feelings and relationships. What I wanted was a suggestion, a male’s one.
He stayed in silence for a while, looking at the view of his beloved Colli, then he put his sunglasses off and explained to me what the no-love was.
An idea of love, obviously from Battisti, with he agreed.
I felt disappointed because, in that moment it seemed to me that he didn’t want to give me any useful advice. But, at the same time, it seemed to me that he was telling me something I will be understanding in the future. And so it is.
Time passed and in hindsight I understand that he did not give me an advice, he gave me THE advice.
Today I think about my dad when he arrives home at the evening, opens the window and turns the radio on ( he lives without television because – It only makes an annoying noise – ).
Today I wonder what he could say about the music I’d choose to go to the altar ( because he surely would have something to say ) and I also wonder if he’s going to remember what he told me about the no-love years ago:
This is the problem with no-love, people think it stands for an absence of love itself but the truth is that is has nothing to do about it. Instead it regards a different way to love someone, not less.. Probably more.
Community Manager with a passion for sociology, I've lived for six years between Padua and Milan. Once I wrote an odd theory on Mathematics, on a Mathematics task. I took zero and the professor told me that I had to find an outlet for my too much imagination, if I wanted to live in the real world. I bought a notepad and began to write to him everything that was going through my head, so love for writing was born, love for expression.