Two years ago I started a Praktikum in Theaterpedagogy in a known cultural association in Berlin, was a strong and rejouvinating experience I could not expect.
Getting in touch with an unknown social stratum of Berlin and working close with different departments, I had the chance to meet far away worlds and forcing myself to find different way to communicate, anytime in an appropriate way.
I firmly believe that every time we speak, we tell a story: what we have done yesterday, how we cook that special food, or just what your Mum says about the religion and how you should act everyday.
It is during this 2 years that I learn how this beautiful city, that welcomed me so warmly, was not that fair for the two opposite side of humanity.
I discovered that 1 kid every 3 in Berlin had no access to Social activities, for many reasons and on the other side, in a city that counts 900000 over 60 of which 270000 over 80, a lot of them were dying for a loneliness disease called Indifference.
Despite the fact that Berlin is considered the Capital of loneliness and this Indifference is increasing in Germany (44% of Germans feel lonely) and not only here, I could not turn my face on the other side.
So I started with what I had, people dying to be considered, kids completely absorbed by virtual worlds and videogame (I love them too!) and a distance between the people that is getting bigger and wider everyday, while we think we are so close sliding on our phones or enjoying our comfortable sofa, too lazy to make that call.
So why not write a story?
As a writer I discovered how healthy and liberating writing is, I wrote a notebook about why or how is important for me to write and how challenging is.
I was remembering also, when I was a kid and I had a pen pal: was so beautiful receiving letters, reading and thinking about what to write next.
Was so analogic, but was so real, the smell of the paper and the ink, the colourful stamps or the letter paper, was so beautiful.
So I though how beautiful could be if you receive more letter at once, more stories to read at once.
The other thing that was beautiful and liberating was that the act of writing was free, nothing to pay, nothing to buy, the simple act of been really in contact, a simple act of will.