What do they know about your thrilled look the first time that, in that weird dusty room, you saw those shining blades, lined up one next to the other.
What do they know about it…
What do they know about the magic, unforgivable moment in which for the first time, that man dressed in black, whom you didn’t know you were going to call teacher yet, put one of those blades in your hand; and she, your hand, strangely felt completed with her, your first sword.
What do they know about it…
What do they know about hesitation and fear of those first steps, of that uneasiness while struggling with those movements back and forward, trying to pay attention to the feet, the legs, the arms and too many other things at once, thinking it was impossible to do everything that “teacher” was asking you to do at the same time…and it was only about making a step forward!
What do they know about it…
What do they know about the first thrust, the first time that you shyly made that first shot against the plastron, so they said it’s called, of that “teacher” and you feel your blade bending against his body and you are almost surprised, incredolous that you are the one who bent that blade.
What do they know about it…
What do they know about the aching legs and the happy soul, that would already go back on that piste right when that first class has ended, when, after greetings and hand shaking, with an uncertain thank you you look at that “teacher” and you understand, because that is when you actually understand it, that he is not just a “teacher”, rather he is your teacher. Continua a leggere→