historical houses is a website of people who make clothes for all historical periods, for pageants. the site you will see the three periods nuragico , Roman and medieval (XIV-XV sec.) With pictures and commemorations of the clothes made. Could be commissioned in women's clothes (for women and girls of all ages) of any historical period, from the most ancient to contemporary. 
Hello everyone! 
Drama inspired by Japanese manga of the same name was broadcast in 2005 until 2006 and has had great success. 
I'm back! This is my new ID, which features in all respects Me As you know, I'm part of a group of historical re-enactment, and in this picture are in medieval dress with a crown of flowers on her hair. Recently, our group re-enactment Memoriae Milites submitted to the Colle di San Michele (Cagliari) a wonderful event: Medieval Nights between ladies, knights and merchants . My passion for the Middle Ages is so, then how could I not make drawings that represent the medieval Me? If we remember well, after this I created another blog where I write a story, of course, medieval, which is titled''The History of Merion & Yuri '' Here . I hope to go soon. For now, I hope you enjoy these pictures! 
(First and second design: hand-colored with Copic and pantone) 
Lately I'm noticing that children who use video games tend to be more nervous, more lazy (<< Jump to wash! Now! >> << Wait ...... I'm finishing the level and ...>> an hour later is still there), eat less (<< Lunch is ready, come and eat >> <<.....>> << Did you hear? Come and eat! >> <<. .. um, yeah, yeah .... wait >> freezes and lunch), in short, all these things are obviously common to all children. The only way to meet both children or parents who live with them is: put timetables . Oh yes, it's just so that we can enforce, and prevent our children from becoming nervous people from morning to night . 
REMOVAL!
communicate to all the friends who have followed in Our Blog until now, Robert and Samantha Sonaglia have finally moved into their new home!
The Blog, where we transferred all the posts on California Robi , California Samy , California Living, and on which henceforth will post new things, is called CALIFORNIA simply, and can be found at this url:
We look forward to the new house still a lot to offer moments colored green and gold and red, like the passion that binds the two Sposini / Authors.
to review at home Sonaglia !
Robi & Samy
I am a piece of paper
ripped from the looks elusive
of who passes and does not see.
My sighs dissolve
in hurried steps
the world go
next to nothing around me.
faint memories watch
drag the carcass
into the abyss of my identity,
be betrayed by weak
's man I was finished.
The only Indoor
when I wrap the night
is the shadow of the wind
that warms me
burning what remains
raped of my dignity in life.
The stone of this bench
is my hourglass
shower of sand,
flowing slowly between the moments of eternity
- the largest condemnation -
slowed from gray dead
of my inconclusiveness.
The only wealth that I
- my partner has always been -
is loneliness embracing
my day,
punishing the sins of a life
that made me an invisible being,
the eyes of men
and those of my own soul.
R Houbara the time
O ndivaghi rays of Life,
B ruciando black and white
E ffimero a night already over,
R estituisce to my soul
T What I ll ,
O ssia
T and Roberto.
The ncanto divine sun and blue.
A ccogli my dreams, make them
M agia of Love, and
O rmeggia your soul in the Sea of \u200b\u200bMy Life.
Ti Amo Roberto
Samanta
you who protect me
from the darkness of the night
when the silence is too noisy
to allow me to dream.
consumption my thoughts
in the vision of Te
as you follow the trail of the sun,
letting the wind
- sweet scented breath of the sea -
leading the way in the ocean.
You are the universe of light
who breaks into my sighs ephemeral
- brief moments of muffled agony -
stifling darkness of the galaxy frozen,
howling through the broken glass
a clear conscience.
If I had a dream I could not love
your uniqueness, Roberto.
're too real to be
my fantasy corrupt
the desire of you.
stretches out his hand and accept
my imperfection, Perfect Man
In my life enough to know
that belong to you
and Everything is Perfect.
Come Te.
 
Buon Onomastico Marito mio
Ti Amo Tesoro mio
, & # 160; Samanta
Two Pearls of Infinite
vigil on the borders of the Dream
- matters of life that embraces the ' waiting -
silence surrounding
with warm embrace
breath of Hope.
Two Destinies united
in an identity
certainty urgent
which incorporates light,
human Victory
Spiral in Existence.
Two Flowers marry
Summer,
as Heaven accompanies the Stars
and the sea gives the order.
Fragments of Joy
percorrono il Viaggio,
essenza della Meta,
dimora di Felicità.
 
Due Mani intrecciano
le Dita scintillanti
nel Cerchio dell’Unione,
who sings in the sighs
Blue Nights Enchanted.
A night of May
covered with fabulous thoughts.
and life.
And You.
                          Samanta
The Sea
when the sweet fragrance
jasmine Party invade
Air suspended between the Clouds and Dreams.
Time will not ask for the ransom
ai Giorni che verranno
- Bianche scie di Vento aggrappate alla Vita –
e il Sole canterà la sua Canzone
di Primavera nel Blu dell’Estate Infinita.
 
I Gabbiani orneranno
- eternamente Sposa Sky -
with Silver Promises kept,
and the world will witness
Divine Union.
"Every picture tells a story" would say my favorite author. And I say, too.
If we are talking about a series of images put together, the story becomes a memorable sequence, a film to cherish in our heart and soul.
But what is important to give the proper progression of certain images? Mostly, we suppose, because if you fail the sequence you create an incomprehensible mess, but a masterpiece of cinema!
worry, I will not give lessons of director or screenplay, I'm just an aspiring journalist who writes articles for the school newspaper, I am not a teacher.
Today I would like to tell you about a man who has made the lives of people who love a great Colossal, without even he never wrote the script, improvising. I was speaking of pictures, then what does the script? Surely this is what you are asking.
The screenplay is the most important thing in a movie, because if there is one, there are no actors, directors, soundtracks, and even then the images. And if there is a certain level, it turns out a disaster. I digress, I know, now I take the train of thought.
the man of whom I speak, was - and is, and will - above all things put together. I will not tell his biography - that is narrow in the heart, and I keep it to myself. So, dear editor in chief of WS High School, what you getting at? Probably not even know me. The fact is that today for me is a very important day, special.
Perhaps this is the last piece that I write for the school before graduation, and I wanted to share it with you talking about - even just mentioned - the most important person in my life, who has always known how to do right shots, putting all the pictures in the exact sequence of the Archives, and I know that it will continue to do so. A great director, then - the best, I might add.
has directed my life to do with it without ever noticing. He taught me not to give up when I could not recite their lines. He recommended
Did I mention that today is a special day for me, but it is not just for the reason mentioned above. Today is your birthday, and wanted to give something special. Dedicate the article with which I greet the youth, I think the minimum.
If it is true that, as he says, "Every picture tells a story " I just have to give the Oscar for Best Film - our - So. In the Best Director. At the Best Actor. For Best Screenplay. The best soundtrack.
Oscar But more importantly, should Ronny Rattles, my Father. A man who knew how to make all our lives like a perfect film, in the impeccable normality of everyday life.
Good Birthday Dad.
March 2028
Rhonda Rattles , & # 160; ;
for
White Sands HS Today
---------------- ---------------------------------------
Back in 2010, I do not add another . I tell you only
Happy Birthday My love
, & # 160; ;
Ti Amo Roberto
                                           
The sounds of the evening absorb
my thoughts tired
- Vagabond Soul Of Olympus -
between gasps echoing
projections of sparkling remote.
whispers to the heart as
the shouting of the sea in summer
whispers of wind and sand
- calm and storm -
words with narrow lace memories,
locked in a Bottle
lost by someone.
Dig between the shadows
hidden the casket
and appear You
- warm light never turned off -
holding the keys to the Guardian,
stolen to me You enter
in the Garden of the Master
to listen to the sound of Muse,
and produce as lyricist for yourself.
If the Lord is at home,
tonight's keep it company.
Crumb Stella
cradled within the fortress,
paint the dreams of pink
e sorridi mentre gli Angeli
ti accarezzano, solleticando
il tuo Cuore neonato.
 
Piccola Nota sfumata
di una grande Canzone,
browsing staves blessed tears,
kissing colored dream
from the innocent malice
lips and perfume
hidden in your eyes kids.
between the Rocky Oaks
embraced by Heaven,
paint your dreams blue
marrying le mani del Futuro,
che accarezza la vostra Briciola di Stella
protetta nel ventre dell’Amore,
in attesa di essere Donna.
* Texts in collaboration with Roberto Sonaglia
Skull Captain
Part
Carmela continued to visit his skull, every day, now more than ever, because he had the grace , and had to worship him even more than before. When Felix asked her to marry him, she said she would accept, of course, but first would have to know the 'soul pezzentelle he had made so meet.
Although he had never believed in such things, mocked the opportunity just presented itself to him, the boy follows the request of his girlfriend, and a week before the wedding, she went with her to the cemetery Fontanelle, skeptical as ever, but intrigued by the enthusiasm of the girl.
I was a bit 'confused when he saw that as soon as you get there, his future wife knelt at the foot of the skull and began to clean, polish, venerate, totally ignoring his presence.
jealous of the attention devoted to those remains that Carmela consumed, and to distract the girl from the relic with no name, put his stick in the left eye of the skull, lifting more or less the height of his head.
- What do you say Carmen, also invite him to our wedding? - Asked sarcastically to his girlfriend, staring at the skull to rotate the stick, on which kept him still stuck, while the move.
- Stop Felice's not funny! - Said the girl clutching the skull and put it back.
- Yeah, c'mon man ... you are officially invited to our wedding! - Still the boy continued, laughing.
Carmela did not answer, preferring to pretend nothing has happened because he knew he was the only way to sì che il fidanzato la smettesse; finì le sue preghiere e tornarono a casa.
Felice non apprezzò l’atteggiamento ostile che la fidanzata aveva avuto nei suoi riguardi, e le disse minacciosamente che se avesse continuato ad andare in quel cimitero a venerare quello stupido teschio, il matrimonio sarebbe saltato.
La ragazza sentì di non avere scelta, doveva fare quello che il futuro marito le aveva chiesto, ed era sicura che anche l’anima del suo amico fosse d’accordo, infondo era per trovare marito che era andata a pregare il teschio, ed era giusto così. Ora che aveva trovato un uomo da sposare, doveva fare di tutto per tenerselo stretto.
 
the wedding day finally arrived, Felix and Carmela, beaming at the sound of music in the hall decked out for the occasion, enjoyed among family and friends wished the newlyweds good luck and long life, while dancing teasing refreshments.
All the guests had noticed the triumphal entry and the subsequent presence of a English soldier with the rank of captain, holding a glass in his hand but did not drink, and had not touched anything from refreshments, but no one knew who he was, not even the spouses. The stranger was limited to greet with a nod and a smile who looked at him, did nothing, not even congratulate the happy couple. He was a man di bell’aspetto, sui trentacinque anni, la sua figura era slanciata ed elegante, e la benda nera che gli copriva l’occhio sinistro – probabilmente deturpato da una ferita di guerra, decisero gli invitati - lo rendeva ancora più affascinante, dandogli quel velo di mistero e un’aria vissuta che intrigava tutti i presenti. Ogni tanto si sentivano alcuni che bisbigliando facevano supposizioni su quell’ufficiale sconosciuto, qualcuno ipotizzò anche fosse un soldato straniero di passaggio, che incuriosito dalla festa, aveva voluto partecipare al ricevimento nonostante non fosse stato invitato. Felice non gradiva la sua presenza, soprattutto quando il tipo guardava sorridendo la sua donna; si lamentava con la moglie fino ad esasperarla, but not to spoil the party in the name of education and the good name of his family forced him, he was quiet and silent, trying to hide his annoyance to others, thinking that time, the reception ended, he would never see her again that soldier.
The reception had come almost to the end, missing only the confetti and then the couple would be free to consummate their love, waiting patiently behind the door of the bridal chamber hidden among the red velvet curtains, which would have guarded the moment yearned by the new husband, anxious to feel complete man.
The unknown soldier continued to watch the bride insisted, with a look made all the more penetrating by the presence of the bandage, smiling. She reciprocated the smile of kindness, but escaped the eyes hoping that her husband would not notice. Happy instead had noticed those looks from the start of the evening more and more jealous, so much so that I could not restrain the man when he dared to wink at his wife, sending him into a rage.
- Now you're exaggerating, man! Or tell me who you are, or you leave, no one has invited you here! - Shouted the angry husband.
- Why, Felix, do not you recognize me? - The officer calmly replied, smiling mischievously between the sudden silence of those present around them.
Felice looked surprised - I know ...? - Asked confused.
- Sure. I have invited you to their wedding, a week ago, having forgotten? - Continued the captain.
- Really ... ... I do not remember - said the groom more and more confused, trying to remember where he had met with that officer.
- No? I have stuck my stick in the eye, and you told me to come to your wedding. Now, remember? - Said the soldiers began to laugh when Felix began to tremble, unable to speak - it's me, your wife revered the skull! These
began to scream as the couple said they were incredulous and frightened it was a joke made by someone who had witnessed the scene, could not be possible ...
Captain began to laugh out loud, while his body was beginning to degrade and gradually consume. The guests ran away screaming in terror, taking refuge in the nearest church to ask God not to be affected by the wrath of damned soul.
Spouses, paralyzed by something stronger than them, watched the scene shaking and crying, screaming and asking for mercy to that entity desperate angry with them, until the captain did not return to be a skull, and two died instantly, even before the skull to disappear altogether.
Still today, after almost two centuries since that event, the Captain of the Skull is kept in a glass case at the Fontanelle Cemetery , reopened in 2006, and before that shrine, in an open coffin, lay side by side the skeletons of the two spouses.
The peculiarity of the skull - which among other things, a black halo around the eye is said pierced by the stick of the groom - is che a differenza degli altri crani sui quali è accumulata la polvere posatasi nei secoli, è sempre ben pulito e lucidato. Forse perché assorbe meglio degli altri resti l’umidità di quel luogo sotterraneo scavato tra pietre di tufo, o forse per ragioni misteriose, a noi sconosciute.
Qui a Napoli si è sempre detto che l’umidità di quel posto sia il sudore delle anime del purgatorio, un’emanazione purificante dell’aldilà, che rappresenta le fatiche e le pene a cui le anime sono sottoposte per scontare i loro peccati. Sarà vero? E se fosse così, tutta l’eternità basterebbe a farci meritare il Paradiso, o almeno a bit 'of peace?
* Texts in collaboration with Roberto Sonaglia
Abstract
This story is inspired a note to popular legend. Is said to be a true story more or less half of the nineteenth century. Shocked the entire city of Naples. It was so blatant, that is handed down from generation to generation, there are several web sites that tell the fact, in several versions, including Wikipedia . I tell my own way that tells my grandmother, to which I have always believed.
course the popular story is very short, facts, situations, places (apart from the cemetery itself), and characters presented in the following story is totally a figment of my imagination.
The Fontanelle Cemetery is also known as Cemetery pezzentelle of souls, because in ancient times there were placed the remains of poor people who could not afford a proper burial. As far as I know, for the most part there are the remains of victims of the plague that hit Naples four centuries ago, or dead soldiers at the time of the Spaniards. But we can not exclude there are also the remains of famous people. It is said that even there, in 1837, were those brought by Giacomo Leopardi, when the poet died, a victim of the cholera epidemic that struck the city.
Skull Captain
Part
Carmela, in common with all the other girls of her age, had a dream: to marry and bear the surname her husband, and that of his future children. It was not very important with those who do, at that time the important thing was to settle, and she had now reached an age that was beginning to make her point by all as the old maid of the neighborhood - even though he had not yet twenty years - he suffered a lot, especially because her peers were all at least girlfriends, or brides. What worried her most was his physical, the pallor of the face and excessive thinness, gave her a rather sickly appearance, the men of the time - and not just them - they deemed unattractive. Concetta
Her friend told her about a day of Fontanelle Cemetery , vowing to have found his fortune since he was taken under his care the skull of one of pezzentelle souls, whose remains lay in complete anonymity there, who knows how long. Concetta was convinced that his skull belonged to a few brave hero of the previous century, who had not had a proper burial because she says the real heroes dying without glory. Maybe it was just that, but in reality Carmela thought the skull belonged to only one of those poor souls who died during the plague that hit Naples some two centuries earlier, in 1656, to be precise. But he kept that thought in itself, regardless of to whom the skull belonged, did not want to risk having ascended soul from purgatory to torment her, or throw them on yet more bad luck than it already patisse.
Concetta had been married for two months, and every day he went to the cemetery to pray the 'soul pezzentelle its mysterious hero, and ask the grace to have a beautiful baby boy, who would make his father proud to be man for having created an heir, and therefore do not have to suffer the shame of being seen as a failure.
One day the girl was able to convince Carmela to follow in that strange place, assuring her that if she had taken custody of a skull to ask the grace to find her husband, certainly unfortunate soul would soon be answered, just as had happened to her.
Carmela did not think long before accepting instill what it would cost? He gave one of those tormented souls in purgatory, the honor that they deserve all the dead, he would have taken away from the crowd by giving it a place for it sull'altarino that would have created to worship ... Concetta and then ... he was right ... if he had treated him well, surely the soul would have done so to fulfill his wishes.
And so the next day he followed his friend, he chose among the many skulls that more clear: not because that would almost glow shone a light, as soon as his eyes rested on it, but because he felt like a voice that ordering "here I am, you have to take me."
not afraid to be that voice, but did so immediately placing the skull on a glass case, which served as the altar, after it is clean and well polished, adorned with lots of beads, handkerchiefs, embroidered cushions, candles and flowers. Now tutto era pronto affinché l’anima esaudisse i suoi desideri.
 
Era passato qualche mese da quando Carmela aveva seguito la sua amica per la prima volta, e quel teschio, per lei, era diventato ormai una specie d’amico – o forse un’ossessione - a cui confidava le sue frustrazioni, e ogni giorno gli chiedeva di esaudire i suoi desideri perché secondo lei, era un diritto che le spettava, visto che fino a quel momento la sua vita era stata vuota come un guscio d’ uovo. La ragazza era così presa da quelle preghiere, che ogni giorno andava al cimitero ad un’ora sempre diversa, perché non voleva che qualcuno la seguisse and hindering his demands, or distracted by entreaties, or maybe just because he was afraid of seeing derided his devotion to the skull, even though he knew very well that nobody would dare to do so.
One morning on his way to that place, his pleas were accepted at last: he met a young man who showed her interest immediately. He was a plump and arrogant ways, and one that showed her clothing and how to flirt, had also come from a wealthy family. His name was Felix, a name that Carmela seemed a sign of fate, immediately and gladly accepted the attentions of the young, so he spent only a few weeks before the boy asked the hand, after having made a request to parents, as they used to do all the gentlemen of those times, and she did not miss the opportunity.
