Italy is mine

... and it owes me a living

Art and Nature, music and literature, animal and human rights, freedom of thought and speech, kindness, culture and education without boundaries.

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Vera da Pozzo, an Italian expat in Paris.

From the Island of the Sun to the Isle of France.

My pseudonym Vera da Pozzo is a pun alluding to what I care about most : truth and loyalty, depth and insight. In my mother tongue, the syntagma "vera da pozzo" means a puteal, but it could be a female name followed by a family name. Water is indispensable for living, and we need to keep it pure and unpolluted; it is the same for truth.
I write in English because I love this language since my childhood and also because English allows me to have a more detached view on both Italy and France. The title of my personal website and blog is a paraphrasis of the verse "England is mine and it owes me a living", from Morrissey's song "Still Ill", released in The Smiths debut album "The Smiths" on 20th February 1984. As Italy had nothing to offer to young people like me, I decided to throw my arms around Paris, as Oscar Wilde did, and I am still here. Like francophone actor Lino Ventura, I am and I will always be Italian.

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veradapozzo8

15 hours ago2 min read

In memory of all the Animals Victims of World War I and all the Stupid Wars before and after

On this day, I wish to pay a tribute to the Animals killed during World War I and all the stupid wars before and after. I obviously appreciate the sentiment, but I do not like at all the memorial monument inaugurated in Paris two years ago: it lacks emotion, as the animals' metal silhouettes are cold and anonymous and the presence of the man holding the pigeon superfluous. When I saw this monument, I disliked it so much that I did not even want to take a picture of it: the ph

veradapozzo8

17 hours ago2 min read

Like Leaves in Autumn: Giuseppe Ungaretti and the Beauty of Poetry facing the Horrors of War

Little artwork by me, illustrating the poem Soldati (Soldiers, 1918) written by the great Italian modernist poet Giuseppe Ungaretti (1888-1970). I had the chance to start reading poems at a very early age, long before studying them at school, and I wrote my very first poem when I was eight. To me, Poetry carries every Life's Mysteries and it is like Oxygen: I could never imagine a World without Poetry, without Dead and Living Poets to read and to listen to and without Passi

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Italy is mine

Vera da Pozzo, an Italian expat in Paris.

Contact Me!

In memory of all the Animals Victims of World War I and all the Stupid Wars before and after

Like Leaves in Autumn: Giuseppe Ungaretti and the Beauty of Poetry facing the Horrors of War

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