Hi guys,<\/b><\/p>\n
How are you? How was May?<\/p>\n
I have finally gotten around to read ALL your comments to the previous newsletters and they filled my heart with joy. Thank you so much for being part of my life!<\/p>\n
Summer is approaching, and this month, I want to reflect on something that may not seem warm and bright at the first read, but that hopefully will make some sense by the end of this column.<\/p>\n
On May 18th, Franco Battiato<\/a> died.<\/p>\n Battiato was one of the last Italian poets, a rare artist, one of those songwriters, like Leonard Cohen, that I consider prophets of our time.<\/p>\n Franco Battiato, over the years, has been for me a source of serene understanding of the cycle of life and death, of transformation and change, which I now see as integral part of most of my writing.<\/p>\n In one of my favorite songs of his, Torneremo Ancora<\/em> (We’ll Keep Coming back), Battiato writes, in Italian:<\/p>\n Finch\u00e9 non saremo liberi, torneremo ancora,\u00a0ancora e ancora<\/p><\/blockquote>\n which translates to<\/p>\n Until we are free, we’ll keep coming back, over and over.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n I have always been interested in the concept of death, fascinated with how religions interpret it, with how they try to make sense of it.<\/p>\n When I was a child, I wasn’t afraid of dying, but I would ask my mom: “Will you still be my mom when we die?” I was afraid of losing what I knew of her and what she knew of me.<\/p>\n I have never been scared of death itself, or of the physical pain that could come with dying. I somewhat always believed that death was merely a passage from one form to another. My source of anxiety has always been the attachment to life as I knew it.<\/p>\n To this day, I am terrified at the idea of my parents not knowing I was their daughter in this life, of not being their daughter anymore, in my next life, of my daughter forgetting I was her mother, of my husband not remembering our love.<\/p>\n That fear makes me love even more. When I love more, the worry becomes more bearable.<\/p>\n I see transformation in every moment of life. Every day I have to come to terms with the fact that, until I learn the lesson I am faced with, on any given day, that lesson will keep coming back, over and over. It will face me again, perhaps in different forms and in different circumstances. Life itself is made of infinite mini-reincarnations.<\/p>\n Until I am free (or until I\u00a0learn what is for me to be learned), I will keep coming back. <\/span><\/p>\n When we are free (when we have\u00a0learned) we transform, and when we are free there is no fear. Transformation, like\u00a0change, is constant.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n “Don’t be free,” I told Ben the night Battiato died. “Don’t be ready.”\u00a0<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n I have been thinking about this a lot because I have turned in my manuscript (death of something<\/em>) and now the book is being made (transformation<\/em>).<\/span><\/p>\n This entire year of pandemic has represented death of what we knew normal, acceptance of it, and\u00a0transformation into the new reality, one that keeps dying and reincarnating every day…<\/span><\/p>\n I don’t know if there is such a thing as ‘the new normal’. To me, it has become clear, normal is a brief instant before I have to adapt again.<\/p>\n May has ended, spring is about to die into summer.<\/p>\n Another transformation happening before our eyes when nature is ready; flowers die and leave fruit on the tree: first cherries, first apricots, first nectarines.<\/p>\n In the same song, Battiato also sings:<\/p>\n You know that dream is realty.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n I wondered, if when we dream of those who have left us we are actually being with them in another dimension, in a life that is as real as the one we are experiencing now.<\/p>\n Not knowing is not only humbling, but also comforting. For I can choose to feel immense joy when I dream of my grandmother smiling at me, of Tom playing with Ben, of my friend Georgina in Australia, of Battiato making sure I write down everything that I learn, so to be, when my time comes, free.<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n A few updates:<\/p>\n – For those who have missed the announcement on Instagram, I have announced the title of my book: Eating Again, The Recipes that Healed Me<\/strong>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n – I am putting together the Instagram show from Italy, Instagram to Table Italian Edition<\/em> during the months of July and August. I am planning on going live at 10 am pacific \/ 1 pm eastern on Sundays. Do you like the idea? Please let me know.<\/p>\n – I have been creating new recipes, and I have been eating more broccoli!<\/p>\n – I had a few outdoor dinners and it made me so happy to eat with friends again. I am in love with Hyppo, a restaurant in Highland Park, here in Los Angeles.<\/p>\n – I am into brows these days; letting mine go pretty wild.<\/p>\n – I went shopping and ditched skinny jeans for high-waisted straight: where have I been all these years?!?! Speaking of transformation… my legs look so much longer in high-waist!<\/p>\n – After reading the book Hunt, Gather, Parent \u00a0— What Ancient Cultures Can Teach Us About the Lost Art of Raising Happy, Helpful Little Humans<\/em> by Michaeleen Doucleff, phD and after implementing the changes suggested, my relationship with Catherine improved immensely; I have never been so happy in motherhood. I highly suggest this book to every parent, no matter how old your kid is.<\/p>\n – We re-landscaped the garden and I love it!<\/p>\n – There is a show on Memorial Day, so tune in on Instagram at 5pm Pacific @alicecarbonetench<\/a><\/p>\n See you next moth,<\/p>\n Love you guys,<\/p>\n Alice<\/p>\n Buon viaggio maestro. Thank you for all that you gave us.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n