Alessia Jane

Alessia Jane

Talking about Jane

I may sound egocentric, cause even if I am talking about Jane I always find a way to make it about me.  I blinked once, twice, trying to adapt my eyes to the dark room full of mirrors. Even then…

The miracle in the change of season

As the day equals the night, as the clouds crowd the sky, leaves starting to die turning colors into plain shades of survive. The world is changing: my miracle. Flowers whiter in the Nyson meadow, even the most glorious and…