promo the perfect beach

8/6/2019 Promo the Perfect Beach

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Gianluca Lucchese

THE PERFECT BEACH

FreeMind along your life s way

Next stop Russell Square!

Edizioni Miele


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Preface

We knew Gianluca Lucchese in London, during the course

Unleash the power within , with Anthony Robbins. Wewere struck by his enthusiasm and great excitement!

Through the metaphor of a unique encounter, in this story,Gianluca tells of life and how, in its own outwarduncertainty, it might offer lots of special opportunities,which can make us follow our conscience and realize our souls deepest desires.

We appreciate this work very much, as it sends out a realeducational message, in line w ith the Hi-Performancevalues: we can shape our destiny and decide what we wantto become; other peoples opinions are not important, we

must overcome them, because our past never can affect our present; what is really important is our future, as well asour dreams and the goals we want to achieve.

Very good Gianluca!

Nello and Mody Acampora,Hi-Performancewww.hiperformance.it


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Capter One

George, come here! Dont bother people who are having a rest and let them doze in peace!

Get over here and take your fingers out of your nose! If you dont stop it, your nose will become as big as anelephants trunk!

You want to go to the cinem a, dont you? Then, be quiet and youll watch the new Walt Disneys film very soon

I was drifting into sleep, my hand supporting my rightcheek! This disturbance might have come from a touristwith a child, or maybe from the Inns satellite TV channel.

I take a deep breath and drink, quite slowly, the only glassof wine on the table my right arm is a bit numb. I hear the sounds of a moving train my heart leaps up. I rub myeyes.Right by my side near a window overlooking the sea a womans voice calls me she stares at me and I cannotignore her I have goose pimples and a shiver runs downmy spine. This reminds me of my childhood, when I wentfishing and, for the first time , I caught a giant carp in agreat mirror-like round and peaceful lake. I can seeeverything quite clearly. All of a sudden, my rod was bentalmost double. I feel the dynamic fish strength getting metowards it lots of minutes battling the fish.

A great emotion overwhelms me. I imagine its size, enjoythe battle, but I dont see it yet I can feel the same excitement even now, but this time thereis no visible thread and I haven't put any bait on the hook.That mysterious voice calls me again. I cant resist thetemptation and turn towards the sea


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Sometimes our deepest desires are in conflict but failing to pursue them is the way of regret, since we need to becomeaware of those vibrations that lots of minds emit and many

bodies perceive. I think that many people have alreadylived such a strange situation but only a few of them haverushed into it, without thinking carefully. I love to bealways one among a few other people: I try to imaginemyself at the top of a pyramid, other people glancing up atme, being unable to get there.Shes looking at me . I know.She gets close to me. I can feel her breath while beingoverwhelmed by a great sense of protection.Sweet words of love: I can see them as if written in thewall.On the right, the reflection of the dying sun, up to my feet.A scent of fresh lavender permeates my nostrils, it is gentle

on my skin. I lightly touch it, while feeling its texture byhand.The words practica a a atishoo! the words

practically and steadily carved on a wall in front of me likea tattoo. I turn my head 90 degrees to the right, but my feetrest on the gro a aatishoo ! Ground I meant. Well,thats strange my eyes start stinging and I keep feelinglike I am about to sneeze: it seems the allergy that I havewhenever getting into touch with blue anodized aluminum but there really is nothing like that! No sign warningPay a ttention : blue anodized aluminum! , not even a traceof it I dont have a clue well, let's go on When I went fishing, I used to get up at daybreak for

preparing my fly fishing rods and reels. Only after a good breakfast, I stuffed my rucksack with some fruits, freshcedar foam and a mortadella sandwich .I took with me an umbrella or a raincoat and listened to myfavorite music along the way, reminding myself everyfishing secret: how to choose the right place according tovegetation and winds, the direction that keeps the hook


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point positioned up, support the fishing rod at the perfectangle, beach umbrella, already previously caught prey.What pride I felt that day. I felt like I was Arsne Lupin.

I was then in nearly the same situation but not ready yetnow.She took away my time.I might be the fish this time or maybe I am not I dontknow.I always wonder what that carp could have felt gettingcaught. I can still remember the emotion I felt, the lake was

just so calm and peaceful, the water so clear and pure.That was a bit of shock, current passed through the water,to the fishing line, to my arms, my nerves until my heart. Isaw waves taking my breath away and finally I succeededin winning and getting the fish out of the water. I felt like awarrior in a never-ending battle, fighting all my fears while

singing a hymn until the carp came ploughing through thewaves.A moment of glory. Of passion. Of great excitement.The only thing I can do now is just broaden my timeconception. I can turn this minute into an hour and createall the moments She took me away.I take a shower, put on deodorant, cedar scented perfumeand comfortable clothes.I feed both my cat and parrot.I go out and head for the rose garden, pick the most freshand healthy rose and get here on my bike.I look for the most beautiful girl, get close to her and justsay the first thing that comes to my mind.

I'm better now. Quite peaceful.But everything is different here. Not even one girl. I haveno rose to give her. I dont even know her face.The windows overlooking the sea have always given me asense of melancholy and I've never been able to look

beyond.The carp, probably would have liked to go back in its lake.


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Now I can see words like shining , blinding , bright and imagine a colored life reflecting on me. I am watchingquite amused the screen of a silent movie, listening to

voices the director would have liked to be heard indeed.I say to myself that She is here just for short and every beatof my heart is a song played at high volume making meclap my hands like in a joyful gospel song.The innkeeper, my friend, a curvaceous woman with achubby face and red cheeks, puts her right hand on my leftshoulder. I think its a dockworker s hand, after a life spentloading and unloading containers from ships. I believe shehas broken my collarbone. When she asked me if I hadeaten yet, I felt like hearing a hooter announcing shipsdocking. My eardrum is already damaged!She has broken my inner balance and I have amplified her gestures.

I get back to reality. I am paying the bill in a place I havenever been.I look really shocked, amazed and astonished, my neck is

paralyzed, it cannot turn right.I head for the window half-concealed by a female figure,who makes me perceive just a sea glimpse. I feel like afootball fan in a terraces empty zone while raining.Protected by a ridiculous and colorful hat, shaped like anumbrella, he lonely sat there with his 180 kilograms of decaying flaccid and fleshy body. Covered by a garish redcape. During an important action of the play, he getsframed by the camera. Quite distracted and absent, he istasting a hot dog with frankfurters, mustard and lots of

relish dripping off his meal I can t understand how come that innkeeper is a friend of mine . Its the first time I see her, but I dont worry toomuch.Theres a dwarf s itting just a few steps away from me,standing on a chair opposite him. He s dressed exactly like


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me. He is similar to me also in his face expression and hisgestures too. He looks at me joyfully.On closer inspection, he is not a dwarf, he is right me, only

sixty or seventy centimeters tall!How is it possible?I rub my eyes but when I take my hands away he is stillthere. I am scared!I glance down, taking a deep breath, but when up again ...he has gone away! I exhale a half sigh of relief.Then a rooster comes in and just stares at me with silence.The feathered wears a red and yellow bathrobe like a boxer Why doesn t it crow?You gotta sing ! it tells me with an American accent

before vanishing Do I have to sing now? Why? Why? Where have yougone? Where have you gone ?

I look under chairs and tables right searching for it;someone could probably think I am crazy, but I've seen adwarf and a rooster too dressed as a boxer.

Nobody have seen them ...I must be really tired ... very tired ...

My name is Lucas Ciandri. I have a cat, Mary Lou, and a parrot, Paco.I am about forty years old.I feel free. I love sports and nature.I did lots of honest works but all the same dangerous too,since I was only a young boy.Recently I touched bottom: my mind raced through several

sad thoughts.I stayed silent for many sunrises and sunsets, using mymouth just for eating, drinking and yawning. I slept manyhours a day, then I spent a good many of my nights writingand reading my work. Getting up I went to the window andsaw the glasses steaming up with my breath. As I was achild I used to do the same thing when I felt really great ,


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wearing a blue school pinafore dress with a white collar,which made me unable to breath.I remember laughing, spitting and lying among my peers.

Anyway I am an adult now , but like a child trappedinside an adults body . After a childhood of suffering,lack of love, shame, I hope to get, day by day, better,richer, healthier, stronger, more charismatic, enterprisingand everything else. I just need to love myself and be lovedas well. Always. Everywhere.Passionately.I wore the same clothes many days, listened for hours andhours to the same music, breathed the same air.But everything is better now. A while ago, I moved into acottage, down the hills and published my first book. Now Ihave a new work looking for an editor.I would like to become a great writer, use the pen on the

sheet like Van Gogh with his paintbrush on the canvas. Iwant my dreams come true within three or four years atmost, have my books translated into Spanish and English,live on the sales of my own literary works. No matter howrich I become, how famous or powerful. But my works will

become very famous, I know.

I have been catapulted across a street whose sign is onlyreadable in its last three letters WAY.Sunday in May of current year, only a few previous yearssigns around me.What a strange situation! Imagine, my reader, that you have

just made a photo in an-old fashioned automatic photo

booths, with warm purple tones complemented by curtainsand swivel stool. You try to adjust the distance between theflash power and your eyes, just smiling. So you wait a fewminutes to get it, realizing the photo reflects yourself someyears ago, dressed in a different way, with childish face.I feel like going backwards.


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I am at RoseInn , a peaceful location overlooking the seaand, on a Sunday afternoon in May. For lunch I just hadspaghetti with shellfish and a steamed bass. My feet rest

upon peach and white big rhomboid floor tiles.A fine-dining restaurant, made with great attention to eventhe smallest detail. Pink walls, terracotta jugs, funnycaricatures pictures. Antique wood beam ceiling. Somesucculent plants, gathered in a corner of the room, offer some encyclopedic efflorescence.Pure white and sky blue frames surrounding the windowswhich let in the light and the gentle sea breeze.Customers, seated properly on straw stuffed chairs, look quite healthy with the most amazing smiles at everyone.Yellow and rose checkered tablecloths. A few children,

playing silently, seem really joyful.A female Persian cat is dozing, cuddling her chin over a

purple red book.The ceiling fan blades move air, gently touching her longwhiskers. Her body is completely relaxed: she inspires mewith great serenity. In all the room resounds a lyricalmusic. A stone staircase leads to downstairs.As a child, I loved going to calm lakes: I felt like being inan unusual world, inhabited by magical creatures. It seemedthat being by those peaceful waters helped my body to becalm.Pippo took me to the lake in his car, a pale blue Citron2CV, with dashboard gear. He taught me the art of fishing.I used to open the black sunroof, enjoying the wind gentlycaressing my hair.

May was my favorite month of the year, since we started tocatch large quantities of big fish from the bottom of thelake


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Publisher: Edizioni Miele

General Title Information

ISBN/SKU: 8863320527

ISBN Complete: 978-8-8633205-27

Title: The perfect beach

Publication

Date:4/1/2011

Street Date: 4/14/2011

Language: English

Book Description (formally called "Annotation"):

This work is not a tale, nor a novel. It is a way in a daily journey. What's the

destination? The perfect beach. What's the way? Its name is Nina. Who's the

traveler? Lucas Ciandri who, surrounded by intense scents of lavender and leather,

lemon and tobacco, rosemary and caramel, walks along the way to self-

consciousness. Step by step, accompanied by several notes played by Verdi, Mozart,

Sinatra, Modugno and Freddie Mercury, the character, the man as well, becomesaware of his own values, is able to overcome his deepest fears and to discover the

goals he wants to achieve. He follows his own way to future, to freedom, to personal

success.

Contributors

Name Role

1: Lucchese, Gianluca Author

2: Marrocco, Laura Translator

3: Acampora, Nello e Mody Introduction by


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Non leggete, come fanno i bambini, per divertirvi o, comegli ambiziosi, per istruirvi. No, leggete per vivere.

[Flaubert - Lettera a Mille de Chantepie, 1857]

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