Plotinus writes nell'Enneadi (VI, 9, IV): "The Magisterium does not go beyond this limit, that is to point the way and the trip, but the vision is already quite a work of staff who wished to contemplate." In this regard relates to the pictorial Lucio Giuliodori leaving out the themes of the symphony, linking them to cultural references and memories evoked by perception depends on the imagination, which accompanies its energies, such as Hurricane pursues him who sails the sea. Giuliodori manages to penetrate the paint, both in its fragmentation and sensitive phenomenal second progressive adoption noetic intuition from which the debt is able to bring profit to achieve high rates of listening and perception of images that the "thin" proposes in his infinite freedom and creative expression: a valuable opportunity to appeal, perhaps much of the infinitesimal sense, the dual face of contradictory reality. And so in solitary alchemy by Orphic follower, Lucio Giuliodori know transmute his own life in poetry as a spiritual essence, going through the culture of painting, a journey that traces the path of that in him "mystes" becoming "Epoptes" (ie any person who provides) that the "Mystery" leads to "anakalypteria" according to a progressive revelation of a secret at all individual. Impossible, therefore, not be fascinated by music in his new collection, where wavy waters crossed by flashes of light, brilliant and dull at the same time, but also images that suddenly, with their loud and silent presence to remind us ungarettiani echoes "d 'before birth' and then out of time and over time towards a source port and a mysterious, but also a season "unprecedented" still living, give rise to a poetic word, full of vitality, paradoxically, able to exhibit both the brightness of the order and denial, as the light that regenerates as able to penetrate in the most intimate and hid the soul, the ineffable dream up, which then becomes, blood and substance of this beautiful poem, as expressed symbolically the verse: "... I'm not blue. ..."(" addition I am the guardian of the heavenly bodies"). The collection is divided into two chapters, respectively entitled: "Sound", the poems are all inspired by the homonymous works of the painter Giorgio Dalla Costa, and "Silence", two titles that are certainly an oxymoron, but also a mantra that comes from far away and can offer a view, to fully lived, according to the poetic experience in the broadest sense, as a creative and emotional climax of "Wanderung" that is both walking and wandering, joy and pain, as can be seen from lines that read: "... I laugh / cry but once, / but the truth come together and mingle, / in the pleasure of looking again at the top." ("The Tomb of God"), where the tension is all aimed at that something which lies beyond and is believed dead. As for the silence that precedes the sound, it must be said that it is a sign and symbol of outward silence while the verses that free flowing, have turned to soul searching and meditation, so instinctual, emotional and mental , according to an intellect that, stimulated by the creation and painting, has been living a prelude to the appearance of an inner revelation. A silence, then, the interlude between movements and creative moments, like those of lead, where you can still find, beyond any position fideist and dogmatic, the path to full reinstatement, which return to the unity of the spirit . How well can still be inferred from "certainty" that literally reads: "I feel the silence of my body. / I hear my pulse Spirit. / I look closely: they are part of God / I am God", which is felt identity with the whole mystery, but in a pantheistic hoped "Beyond" that gives weight and pathos of testimony to the pressing concerns expressed elsewhere.

Two sections, however, linked by "fil rouge" of accents existential, engaged in the capacity of listening to music inside and out, and painting in which, ultimately, is kept the same poetic voice, the story of a man of refined culture feels that: "All that is out / is not just a mirror. Whether we look into. / Us. We are internal vibrations. We Music Within." ("Music Within"). Poetry, on the whole, the strength plastic that informs the whole, this new collection of Lucio Giuliodori with forging linguistic and synthetic free, truly inventive, full of rhythm, balenante the emergence of a variety of content, always suspended between history and the cosmos, human spaces and inner desires and dreams of the metaphysics of flights and other parallel, that even the Enlightenment ends with a hymn entitled "We and knowledge." A tireless researcher, the young poet who, according to Dante's mystic, you know send intimations of inner realities such as "foreshadowing prefaces;" as he said the Master, which are, in the end, "Crossing," or "Glimmers" Montalian of memory, opening unexpected or fleeting as "Artist's Shit" that can save any vulgarity, which contrasts the rational lucidity, Voltairean Enlightenment and the poetry of closure, in which space and vision become large and spread out as if the garbage of lines and sounds obedient to reason and freedom of conscience keepers of the voice and the story of the poet who, after passing between the banks and places of light, light chooses the path of knowledge which is: "... personal experimentation ... courage knows no fear ... ... is an individual act. An act of love ... love ... prefers the solitude verification is Chaos ... ... ... prefer the responsibility is unspeakable. .. is in our hands ... and not those of the Lord ... " because otherwise the poet concludes: "If we were in the hands of the Lord, what would be the knowledge? What would the world? What is the point we ourselves?" ("We and Knowledge"). All expressed following a sacredness, however human, poetry, poetry, characterized by the philosophy that music is harmonious sister, a seething heap vital anthropological certainly typical of a poet still very young, as Professor Lucio Giuliodori, which according we have many things to say and so many arrows to his bow, as that is, thinking man "Manu" or son of the Universal Mind, the bearer of "pure love" that is not only a flowering of the human heart, but has its roots in ' eternity.

Lia Bronze