by Lorenzo Piccoli
The most gracious book I read recently is a fictional diary: at the end of each year the writer makes a list of friends – new, old, and lost ones. I have started thinking in those terms. Last year I kept my closest friends here; also made some new acquaintances from whom I can probably learn a great deal should I manage to keep up with them (P. B.; L. B.; F. M.); I tightened my bonds with four friends who have an enormous importance for me (T. L. A.; N.d R.; N. S.; M. L.); and I weakened my bonds with a few other friends with whom I should have been more present (M. M.; M. V.; J. H.).
More specifically on this last point, last year for the first time I have not spent the end of December with my Canadien‘s crew after a streak of four memorable reunions – 2011 Utrecht, 2012 Innsbruck, 2013 Florence, 2014 the Hague, 2015 Berlin. This is no good.
For next year I must continue to make new acquaintances, but I also want to restore ties with some old friends. Oh fate, let it start from the Canadien family, because this is one of the most important things I have been part of since I have become a person of alleged maturity.