September always marks a little late summer, the days get shorter and the air has a different smell, more sparkling, scents of leaves. In September the school also starts, after a whole summer spent with my son, I’m always very sorry to change the pace and see that at dawn he comes out to go to the school. September is also the month of courses, workshops, beginnings in general, maybe even some good intentions. Never as in this month I collect requests concerning artistic activities. Not all intentions are realized, but it is still true that September has in itself the strength of summer, it collects the heat to distribute it gradually until December, when Christmas comes later but this is another story. The colors are warmer and on the bottom remains a bit of melancholy, gently cradled by this contrast of things that end and things that start. September is also the month of autumn, the wabi sabi season for excellence, just for the colors of the earth, for the textures, for that desire of home, of beautiful things, of cups in the hands, of Sundays on the sofa … .and then there is that subtle melancholy aware of the becoming, of the flow of time.