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The body piece by piece - by Melissa Panarello

Anatomy of a writer book published every month in the monthly magazine GQ. The body piece by piece. http://melissapanarello.wordpress.com/anatomia-di-una-scrittrice/

LEGS: I am a centaur.

Sagittarius females are distinguished from females of the other signs Zodiac for the incredible strength and subject to which they enjoy their lower limbs. Sagittarius is precisely represented by the centaur, a mythological animal half man and half horse. The upper part of his body, the abdomen up, is governed by the intellect and reasoning , prerogatives of course be attributed to the human condition. bellied down any reference to human disappears, and remains the horse. The legs of the horse. The horse's ass. The tail of the horse. The strength of the beast.

I was traveling. Alone with my backpack around Europe. Berlin, then Amsterdam and Paris. Two months of silence, long walks alone, effort and physical strength I did not know you had. In that short space of personal freedom has changed my body and gave me very clear signals that have overwhelmed the idea of \u200b\u200bhim I had done in all previous years, since a year and a half I started to walk on my legs :

bellied down are ruled by brutality . A monster, my short legs, burning miles a day, enduring the hot foreign streets, which were held in balance on heels which I did not want to give up. I would definitely have been more comfortable with a pair of All Stars or wearing those horrible plastic sandals called flip-flops, but it was as if I wanted to push my physical endurance beyond human limits, as if my condition of being human was too great a burden to my conscience and wanted to discard it, deconstruct it, focus and enhance the my inner beast at that time kicking against my legs screaming loudly for free. I passed the limits my legs buckled to the new condition that I imposed on them: they became at last legs, my body's engine . No longer a vertical furnishings on which my body is based. No longer something to show under her skirt. A half now, not only functional movement, to move from one place to another, but through a medium, to reconcile with my animal nature.

Lady Godiva rode naked through the streets of Coventry in 1043 AD She was the wife of Earl Leofric of Coventry, despite criticism that his wife had refused to halve taxes on the people destined to poverty. Lady Godiva, in a remarkable humanitarian impulse, rebelled against the tyranny of the husband and wife to the provocation offered that if he had the courage to ride naked through the streets of the city would not listen. Lady Godiva rode naked Coventry, riding her horse, she and his mane in the wind. Single entity. It 's the first woman-horse that we witness.

The first woman to rebellion and heroism takes the responsibility to get on and get naked in harmony with his animal nature . Against the rules of common sense and decency, against the masculine arrogance, renounced in favor of an ideal, a value so high and beautiful to erase inhibitions and embrace the challenges and provocations.

The legs are the only real instrument of freedom of the body . And defense. The only means of defense. As roses are thorns. The legs pull us away, running from harm. My legs have done so often. They ran away when they heard that the place, time and people were not suited to my emotional circumstances. My legs go fast when they are down the street and I will not look at anybody. my legs are not beautiful, but they are real and powerful. Are short and not at all delicate, turned at the top, inner and outer bearings on the sides, rolls of cellulite. The ankle is fine, but the calf vigorously. They are not good for the common sense of beauty. I'm not Naomi Campbell's legs. You panther. I centaur.