M
A breve i miei lavori in vendita su Muuseum
X
Giulia Neri
Sometimes you need to let words go

Sometimes you need to let words go

When you are waiting for someone to fill-up with love
When you are waiting for someone to fill-up with love
When you are waiting for someone to fill-up with love
When you are waiting for someone to fill-up with love
l'Océan
l'Océan
l'Océan
l'Océan
The Boston Globe
The Boston Globe
The Boston Globe
The Boston Globe
When someone leaves without saying a word
When someone leaves without saying a word
When someone leaves without saying a word
When someone leaves without saying a word
The Milaneser
The Milaneser
The Milaneser
The Milaneser
Waiting for something different
Waiting for something different
Waiting for something different
Waiting for something different
SediciCorto Film Festival
SediciCorto Film Festival
SediciCorto Film Festival
SediciCorto Film Festival
She is my mother. During my childhood, I saw her dry her hair under this strange noisy helmet and read as if nothing could disturb her. From her I learned to love books. I have never seen anyone read so much. She must have a world inside her, a world that I have only seen in passing.”
She is my mother. During my childhood, I saw her dry her hair under this strange noisy helmet and read as if nothing could disturb her. From her I learned to love books. I have never seen anyone read so much. She must have a world inside her, a world that I have only seen in passing.”
She is my mother. During my childhood, I saw her dry her hair under this strange noisy helmet and read as if nothing could disturb her. From her I learned to love books. I have never seen anyone read so much. She must have a world inside her, a world that I have only seen in passing.”
She is my mother. During my childhood, I saw her dry her hair under this strange noisy helmet and read as if nothing could disturb her. From her I learned to love books. I have never seen anyone read so much. She must have a world inside her, a world that I have only seen in passing.”
And finally came a July made of heat and books
And finally came a July made of heat and books
And finally came a July made of heat and books
And finally came a July made of heat and books
Somebody stole a heart that was not theirs to take
Somebody stole a heart that was not theirs to take
Somebody stole a heart that was not theirs to take
Somebody stole a heart that was not theirs to take
giulia.neri67@gmail.com
Website built with love by Cabolo