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Trail tanks and the top of Sasso Malascarpa

November 28, 2009

Infiliamoci between two disturbances (one yesterday and one that should change tomorrow), infiliamoci in a gorge, and climb into a mega infiliamoci, why not, even in infiliamoci a long, long series of jokes. Mix 14 "old" zaioinspallisti, we add a pinch of new, low heat of the sun to cook the top, stir in two old fox hunters of old irons and serve ... et voila served here the path of the tanks and the Stone of Malascarpa (not Mascarpone).
which begins this tale I have already become obvious on the first morning, when the stories of sleepless people were immediately mixed with those of dinners and delicacies. We all know that the evolution of heterogeneous groups follows a precise path: we start talking about the common strainers (in this case, the mountain), it goes to food and almost always comes to sex. If we have enough time available as in the trek of several days, popping up small problems of our microcosm dominated by the precise question "Were you able to go to the toilet?". We
today we stopped in the second phase (food).

After "Breakfast at Tiffany's", screened in eponymous bar-pastry Valmadrera, complete group we enter the path offers a slip to ride along the banks of the river, but especially the first visit to the waterfall.
Crossing areas furnished by sub-tropical jungle, back near the narrow road, which in our disdain from being snobby-hikers and the snobbish (no puns, please ... you smell! ) rinfiliamo us again deep in the valley of Hell. We pass a series of tanks filled with well water (especially considering the season) and go up the ravine using his hands more often. Fortunately, the path (we can really call it that?) Offers several notches carved into the rock, which help in the progression damn. And after the notches are some chains and other chains after tanks and so on ... however, these tanks are far more lovely than those on Saturday in Piazza Duomo (Cathedral Square this is everywhere).
overcome with a little girl and friend zainoinspallista cabbage has just 11 years (the child, not the friend) and fully armed she is doing the path of tanks: honor and also the parent of the child, who has just open a shop selling of patience, the material of which must be particularly fitted.
The forest becomes more sparse and after further passing-of-mass, we come to anticipate that Pratoni St. Thomas, which we avoid for now.

The trail is now wide and sloping from schoolgirl, but I know that this bonanza will not last long. A rude awakening it will first encounter with the pole of the park, but the real hit will come with the placing on the "difficult path" that has as its goal the Malascarpa Sasso. It does not take much to bring down the silence that will last a long time, at least until the meeting with the blades of rocky pinnacles of St. Thomas: "Ooooooh" and then you take a piston. The path is steep and strewn with stones. Some people are going down and unfortunately their pace a bit 'too steep drops and misguided causes various stones, which fortunately do not cause harm to those who are below, as we do.
The signs of the trail goes bounding and sometimes I have to go and check the route going on ahead and follow the trail by the few who is quick to see them more than myself. The group inevitably becomes longer, but finally we reach the sun and the sun means the top and top it means pause.

tersissima The day is also due to wind is not very nice when you stop. We are looking for shelter and give breath to the jaw, also thanks to sweets home-made-made and Esselunga brought up here. After some two photos look shady, loschissimi appears that they are approaching: 200Kg friendship outweighed by 3.60 meters. I try not to cross their eyes, but it is useless to me they are hunted, have their breath on my neck and then I shake his hand vigorously. Draw my widest smile of circumstance and the greeting: "Hello guys, how to throw?". Not even I anticipated their thoughts, so here I am involved in a lesson on the field using GPS 60CSx just bought ... and to think that after the night lasted only three hours, I was hoping for a good sleep here in the sun ... Some people let this opportunity if not escape: Lucky you!

Time goes quickly and before we dive into the long descent, we climb in search of landscapes and hunting will be a very fruitful: we bring home the Rose, the Grigne, the Sun, the handsome profile of S. First, the unmistakable Grigne but above all the piiiiccolo Dhoop the Matterhorn, hence well placed to the right of the Monte Rosa massif. A
eyes, back to backpacks, we salute the two Janissaries and take the path of the ridge. Beautiful trail, a little 'less interesting is the walkway furrowed fields, I remembered to be more visible, but who knows where I picked up this memory ...
From the ridge enters the beech forest and we paused beneath a monumental beech: a real beast of nature, which in summer will bring several tons of leaves on her hair. Souvenir photo and resume to decline. The ground is slippery, but less than I expected, I leave it to leave the band to move at his pace. The pact is always one is always the same: if the junction is expected. Sometimes the agreements are not respected and when I get to St. Thomas with what I thought was the rear guard, I realize that there is at the forefront ... "What has gone to the dogs? Or went nonsense?" doubts overlap in the brain and solve them with a phone call. Few minutes from St. Thomas and when we reach no one will actually tell us how it went. We suggest meeting with the Leocorno, others called sudden crisis of vocation with mystical apparitions of madonnas and San retaliation (which is obviously synonymous with the last ...), but are appealing to the third amendment of the internal law of animal protection. Oh well, caliamo a veil, hairy, painful and going down the easy trail and from here we return to Valmadrera, with 15 minutes of asphalt has once again to cars.

Toast, pizza, beer and coche and early wishes for the holidays: we too are decorated as the mega-center dell'Auchan close to Christmas.

Good Sunday to you all: tomorrow I'm in Milan ... forecasts are very bad and I canceled the climb to Manavella. At the end of this story I'm wondering, "What cabbage do in Milan on Sunday?? "

PS. Greetings to the heart of two shady characters met on the summit, which is always a pleasure to make fun ;-)

is one of the tanks

Some women Ragno (for man looks at the last photo)

The spire of St. Thomas

Sasso Malascarpa

Under the centennial beech

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"But animals have you seen?" is the classic question
"These, in your opinion, what are they??" is my answer today ...

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Lake of the Servant in the center of the park of Mount Avic

24 November 2009 13 November 2004 - November 24, 2009
's been almost five years since the first time at the lake of the Servant. The park is a bit of Monte Avic 'my ball and going back more willingly, even if they are very happy with a group.
In these years I did a little 'street (as Forrest Gump would say "I am a bit' tired ..."), but also the park has come: the visitor center is new, next is a beautiful structure accommodation of wood dressed, the cover has been extended and is scheduled to open a second center for visitors Champorcher on the opposite side of where we are today us.
Here we are, with 8 bold tireless workers, who on Tuesday did not find anything better to do than putting on boots and a backpack to go to the lake of the Servant. The Avic

, meaning the top is always there, has not moved an inch (or so it seems) and, as always, gives me a great desire to climb it: I say it now for several summers, but for one reason or the other in the end I always gave up.
hyper-sunny day: we left the plains to dense fog and there is almost no heat, we are certainly well above the average temperature of the period.
We took our way along the trail that has easy target for the old mining stock. Along the way there is only the Desert of the Tartars and the pyramid dell'Avic gives us his best side: how to dispense with this picture? But this will not only be difficult to give up the photo: on Tuesday it is very photogenic, thanks to the dusting of snow on the peaks, the green of the pines or hooked to the redness of the peaks ferruginea and, last but not least, what about the blue the sky? I apologize for these flights of fancy, which normally do not belong to my repertoire, but the proximity to the great poet can only give these fruits.

But back to issues that are closest to me ... I put the USB stick, the one with the word "Nature" in the slot in the back-and carer part of the history of the mountain pine, the seeds of the park (this little corner of paradise, to whom I owe so much), the fake boxwood (fortunately not in the sense of ministers leaguers), and blueberries are just as fake. Death follows life and miracles of the rowan berries, birds and mountains. The alder (with the apostrophe right where I put it, not like the sort recently ondon chronicles the sad dell'Italietta) white and green female cones shows us ... in short, try to earn my day, because of difficulty walking today we will see. On the other hand the images in the eyes and feelings on the skin will be, and how.

Short salitina and arrive at the home of the artist, as I christened I because of various stone carvings that adorn the house and garden. There svacchiamo the sun, which is a panacea against all the wear and tear of modern life, stress, office to the one customer ... but cynarone. Only those who unrivet 8 lizards from their piece of the sun turns out to be a stronger than expected.

Now we begin to walk on true path, passing the ancient pipes, rocks Sacrifice (whatever that should mean, not even my spelling is fine) and the inevitable mountain pines. On the ground we have a real carpet of larch needles, which are still in winter plumage, which is bare, which makes walking less slippery and much softer. In recent 100 meters ascent silence falls: magical moment, we and the woods and then us and the lake and then we and lunch, always alone, always in silence.
Start the diaspora: in search all the best photo, with the most picturesque corners, with more special effects. Well, here's a special only the lake, almost completely frozen. We do a half turn, shots like madmen, we immortalized in the most ridiculous poses. But the sun is disappearing behind the ridge and about 12 degrees, it suddenly falls to 2. Call to order the troops and begin the descent.
The sun has disappeared even from the artist's house, so we go down a further stretch, until you find a grassy meadow. Other pause, another full of warmth, but yes and no will last a few minutes. Our mad rush to the sun is here declared definitively lost.

Turning next to a stream, I notice a beautiful waterfall, swollen with water. This season, the flow should be much smaller, but this crazy autumn gives us all this and more. We approach between slippery rocks (and so the first sculattata), fords even more slippery (and also via the foot soak) until you get in front of the mighty stream. Collection even this small satisfaction, we put ourselves on track (in the true sense of the word) wanted her to return to where the bar is closed, the center of the park is closed and there is not even around a dog. ERROR! The dogs there are three hungry for cuddles, and are served properly.
go down looking for a bar and finally find the classic local tavern, where there are neither snacks sandwiches. It 's the same owner of the bar that we should go a few minutes further upstream, where it seems the succulent snacks are served. But now we sit and we are satisfied to some old puppy of memory, a variety of drinks and solidarity of the lady, we need some biscuits mo 'apology. I must say: It was a kind gesture, too bad the biscuits were hard (at least for me and my tortured gums). Hello

Avic, missing only you (as the top) to the principal tours of the area and who knows what next summer is not even your turn.

Close sull'Avic

The Avic between rowan

The arrival of the Servant of the lake

We turn the frame around the lake looking better

We, as the lake is now frozen

But what I'll never be thinking?
"I caught a fish so big"
"I'm an aerosol armpits"
"And now, what I want more, in addition to Lucan?"

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Make a wish, she will hear

Occasionally, wandering through woods and meadows to meet her, a creature still not pretty, but very funny and magical. She puoi tell your dreams, keep them jealously in a bud. When spring arrives the little bud will bloom and your wish will come soon.




you ... hmmm, has a name even as she and the baby does not have the eternal dream of the ears, I forgot to ask. I know, I know how do you forget your ears? But sorry, what are they for? So she is a magical creature reads the heart and can not hear the words.

cernit is made, I have not a suitable oven, so I cooked the little creature bubble (poor). The result is not much excites me, because this method of cooking has made for the arm fragile.

successful day to you all ... Air Creative

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My first prize

An artist is very good, Gemma, I was awarded a prize. His blog: Gems Gemma .
The four rules to follow: 1
- who passed me the quote award and his blog
2 - go to 14 the premium online friend
3 - to answer a questionnaire of 10 questions

In what animal you reincarnation? white Siberian tiger.
Who or what could you do without? of my family, my boyfriend's, books and pens
What do you like most in a person? The frankness
What color dress do you prefer? Black or white
Definisciti in three words: I'm sorry but I can not, there are too few to define a character
A journey that would like to do: I would like to travel around the world, but I'm pleased with the cultural destinations .
Favorite Quote: Blessed monocular coecorum on earth.
What would you like to do? Become an archaeologist .
If you do not devote myself to what else do you like to do? Nothing else is this my way .
What is your extravagance? think too much and talk too!

And here are the people who pass the prize:

Diamantya Creations

What I know and do not

With hands and heart

The Gardens of half

creations Fatafiona

Robybijoux creating the clouds

Lilium-CharisHarker's creation

Footie Pajamas Harry Potter

The eternal dream baby!

This summer, my passion for the polymer clay was raised again, determined to build something nice I bought a loaf of cernit flesh-colored.

I turned that little square of dough between your hands, I did not know what to do. I do not know how, but it occurred to me listening to Tchaikovsky to create a small Pupetto.
The melody notes were becoming faster and stronger, perhaps by following the rhythm, perhaps owned by the fantastic I could tune in no time to give birth to a tiny little creature. The desire to see her crush was so great that I forgot you do the ears. I think it was fate that make me forget the ears so as not to hear her, poor thing, my teasing and my nasty comments.
was my first attempt with the cernit and poor has fallen to him to be born so weird.

Shh make-up of the fairy has sprinkled the pupotto dreams with his fairy dust, is now in the eternal realm of dreams.



not have a name, maybe I'll wait any suggestions from the wind.
I had an oven suitable for cooking, so it was boiled. The technique of boiling is very simple, just fill a pot of water and place it in a pot (previously filled with water), the creature is wrapped with aluminum foil and then immersed in a jar. After a few minutes cotta figurines can be said, even though this method makes the work it has created a very fragile thin parts.
We wish all of you who have read my post today, a wonderful day.

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On top of the Horns of Medale

15 November 2009

Excursions month of November are among the most difficult to organize. We are in mid-stream: on the one hand, the hot summer trails with mackerel is being replaced by the winter, with snow and short days. But November also has its own offering in November and also because of his saints trips: those quiet ones most difficult, as today the Horn Medal. Of course, the share goes down, but not the physical effort and technical falls. We have nothing to prove, but only to live this day, leaving the shadow of Resegone, where we ride in one of the few bars open.
Repeat after time the old road leading to Valsassina has a taste of old: it goes on the outskirts of Lecce, are sandwiched between the first turns gray houses and truck exhaust on one of these turns, you leave the province to enter the town of Ranchi.
Here, at absolutely no early (are 8:15), but given the type of terrain I wanted to keep stock of any time to deal with hypothetical problems, who'll tell you, there will be.

It starts on the trail that leads to high fraction of Ranchi and here we enter the forest, having left behind and persimmon orchards. The vertical wall of the Medal is there looking at us: it is impressive from below, and more than one is wondering (and you are asking) where the trail passes cabbage. Everyone knows that climbs here and there even a mangy railway, but the path where is it? I let them cook in the broth to not spoil the surprise. After
networks para stones begin to roll (even if it was not coke would go faster than that), driven also by the many exhortations that some bontempone painted on the rock: "Vecio up with the mule," "Are you tired walking," until the classic "This is hard." Arzilli crossed two gentlemen who are walking our own path and one of them is an ultra-seventies, the facciaccia of those who think that the rides are just stuff from hypo-thirties.
Now the trail becomes narrow, damp, and above all starts to pump that is a pleasure ... pleasure of those who do not know, but you sweat that is a marvel. There is little to celiare at this time and my eyes are focused a bit 'in front, a bit' down where I put my feet and a bit 'behind to make sure everything travel without problems. Today there is only one "newbie", but who has a physique that rivals Einstein, dropping my natural concern.
We enter a world of vertical limestone, swooping down on the peak Valsassina, still mostly green. The top of the Medal is there, but what impresses most is its wall-to-peak. Some pictures and resume pumping, while the Lake Garlate begins to be seen.
's arrival at the top is sudden and unexpected. Dominates the mega metal cross that does so much "Modern Times". In two hours we arrived, burning all the times I had anticipated. But the rest will inevitably be short: a cap, a touch of chocolate, a drink and then off again, as we sit still pretty darn cool. But there are those who can not resist going to see where the strike ends: try to appear, but the vertical is so much, he can not miss to see the cable that goes down at breakneck speed.

It 's the time of the piece that I like most: a long coastline of cliffs and rocks, which unites the top of the Medal to that of S. Martino. Fatigue is minimized while the technical rate flies up to ... flies is the right word, because just a moment of inattention to fly down, do not advisable. Here already it happen too many accidents, especially along the railway, to the point that paved the runway to the helicopter, which here often have a lot of trouble.
Go down and climb, up and down, his hands on the rocks or the tinkle of the tips of the rods that hold up during the descent, we arrive at the junction leading to Crocione of Mount S. Martino. In ten minutes we are at the cross, which is just a Crocione, but this time made of wood. The lunch stop is at the peak visible at Lecco suits the surrounding peaks.

The other time I got here, I opted for the descent to the trail from St. Martin down to the hut, returning just cross the junction. But from the top I see people going up and that tells me that from there you can go back to the track that Rancio. I propose to change the band in progress and we start to fall ... damn it, I knew the trail was steep, but this beats it by far and lose altitude due to the slope in a flash, which is considered the oratory of San Martino. I can still hear the creaking knees and the creaking of vibram on the rocks.

E 'very soon, I miss the one and think "Not at this time we want to return to Milan?". I therefore propose an extension to the church of St. Martin, where there is also a refuge, that Sunday should be opened. Convinced the band that certainly does not pray, and we resumed our journey. Shortly after we meet a couple of people during descent: it is the operator of the shelter, not having customers, has seen fit to close the cabin and puppets to return to the valley. "Big deal" I think "And now as the beak of the Tomino is known in the refuge?".
With a beautiful passage in the coast overlooking the Lecco branch of Lake Como we arrive at the church of St. Martin, where other hikers were parked in the open, all united by a single thought: "If only the shelter was open ... "
camped here there is also Emilio, whom I met during one of the courses recently held GPS. E 'with some friends, but above all know at the area like the back of his hand, dispensing advice on new rounds to go. I take this opportunity, but rather take advantage, and there we drive to the entrance of the mysterious Val Verde, which we sang the praises and praises efforts. For the second time we broaden our scope of action and following a path beaten by a dozen hikers a year, we come to a collar which shows access to the Val Verde: steep, mangy, wild ... because of all this is interesting, very interesting and I just going to make a walk to get to know its strengths and weaknesses.
Meanwhile, in a geography quiz, a dispute arises as to whether it is deeper than Lake Como or to Iseo. My oldest now I suggest the first school reminiscences, but some say the opposite ... "Mmmm," I think "I must be careful. This shady characters I already have a latch beer, won a similar challenge but on the ground, astronomical ..." But the challenge appeals to me and in front of 10 witnesses, drafted the new rules of the bet.

return it to the church and its Pratoni and then we start again for the descent, which turns out to be slippery and mangy, just as it should be. There is no appeal
the final drink, no small undertaking in a Sunday afternoon here on the outskirts of Lecco. Let's try the bar in the morning, but it is closed. We try a second with a similar fate. Then we sneak in the center Germanicus in search of an imaginary circle, but passing in front of a sandwich bar, I declare the search over.
The room is empty and a bit 'sad, but the joy puts the Tiger, with his work again confectionery: a mega-tart made with brown Calabria. After a moment of silence thinking about the sad fate of males and Reggio Cosenza, we are dedicated to the bacchanal.

A day in the mountains in the middle of November, many called it a season, but life do their crazy these wretches with whom I've done a really great walk today.

PS. And the bet? Oh, dear boys, this time I took my revenge: Lake Como is not only deeper than Iseo, but of all Italy ... I have the mouth watering at the thought of coca scroccherò that the next time ;-)

So it begins ... great encouragement!

Worldwide limestone Medale

From the cross of Medale

From the cross of St. Martin

The Moregallo and Lecco side of Lake Como

Val Verde: A place where you make your shoes

And so it ends!

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Magnodeno: a visit to the 'hotbed' of the Alpine Lecco

November 14, 2009

You go or not To? After spending Friday glued to the screen for the usual check of the forecast, I decided to leave, knowing that it will not be a sunny day.
cross my fingers and feet, as this will serve only to provoke violent cramps, and we go from a Milan gloomy, cloudy but not rainy.
Unfortunately not everyone thinks so, and there's defection last 3 hours: it is a pity, but I understand their choice, even if you do not agree with ... Oh God, I know more people who remained overnight in plenary session of the Cabinet, though not envy you.
the jamb with a nice 5x2 car, we go in search of breakfast place: here I have props references and finally catches sight of a bakery that makes coffee with a side bar, we dive to the double turn: first a free ride delicious freshly baked croissants and then the bar for the hot drink on duty. The bartender is a bit 'malmostosa, but put yourself in his shoes: This story is no longer able to sell a paste for months and months ...

Slip through the alleys of Maggianico, parked near the monastery, hospice, which triggers the appropriate jokes. The weather conditions are pretty bad: fog all around, but it does not rain and does not even cold. And if there is someone who suffers from cold, I'll do I just go with the first ascent: an ancient mule track that is currently not a problem, but descent will be like?
A rhythm all in all we have quiet time to talk of the summer (behind us) and winter around the corner.
Campovecchio The bar is definitely closed, the bowling green desolate and benches piled in a corner: bad sign, but the storm is over our heads. The sky darkens and starts to drizzle, fine fine, but I prefer to wear the cover from rain, which is not touched for months: you also need to take air from time to time. The rain will take a few minutes and you will pass the phase of the sauna, we were not even in a beauty farm. For those who wish to make the sludge will be readily satisfied and for those who dream of losing a few pounds of too, the tour will offer a nice tough climb, where the group will inevitably shelling.

We pass a guy with a lot of dog is beyond us, stops, turns around and greets me:
"Hello Fabrizio"
"O Beautiful" I think I "and who the hell is I'm part of Rambo?" Then doth my best smile markettaro and the greeting: "Hello"
"Do you remember me?" that makes me.
"Devil" think "they are stuck ..." "Mmm ... no, not really"
"Come on, we met on this occasion and I phoned a couple of times"
My mind boggles, but I pull out my spirit: "Ah yes, you Lucilla" bluff dramatically. But bastardoni bluffing too: one of misrepresent readers of the site, but we had never seen nor heard. If nothing else, his big dog, now filled with pampering, is the glue. Four
talk and then promise to meet again on top.

The break is now vital to the camp and miraculously the weather seems to brighten. Go back to our hopes of seeing something and jumps to attack the Horn of Grao, a strange top, which seem to be two or maybe three. A long stretch on the ridge, beautiful, not too tiring, potentially view. That brings us to the last tear that leads to Magnodeno, but our grandfather (1000m despite declared last week) him off and left him in the most humid and windy that we could find: he deserved a small punishment, no?
As we go, we meet "Lucilla" already is falling: the number of new pampering her dog, is followed by a warning from the owner: "Be careful, the dog likes to roll in the dung ... 'Lucilla is zainoinspallesco definitely has a spirit. Here are the greetings, this time for good, and it remains to him and us down the last stretch of climb.
But good to see consistency in the end is rewarded: the clouds rise from the valleys and the main peaks can finally see. These moments given away from the mountain make it unique: we struggled, we have yet to reach the top, but the excitement has come to hurt us.
's cross and just around here also the refuge of the Mountain: The Resegone is semi-covered, but we just have to wait a few minutes. The refuge is open, although there is no guardian and gives us shelter and comfort where lunch. Out of the clouds play
: Azzoni the shows, even the lake of Lecco, the Horns of Canzo emerge from the white sea, while the Grignetta and handcuffed. Shortly before the Horn Medale here, where I'll go tomorrow. We let ourselves be guided by the wind rose beside a cross, although many of the peaks listed here will be invisible.

Resume in the descent, with the slow and cautious to avoid sculattate ground: the record will be the end of 3 slides (one and a half to cheek), but did not win prize. We recover the grandfather and so on down the path, passin pass.
remains is to tell the frantic search for a place to drink: in the end we put in a huge, new, but mega-kitsch bar in the new structure of the ice rink of Lecco ... But the tortillas were not bad and there are those, including tales of mafia and neighbors lose sight following the maneuvers of the chambermaid.
Hello ... and the next.

PS. I almost forgot: today as the dregs of clothing and mountaineering equipment

• backpacks covered with plastic bags
• rods routes, asymmetric, twice the length of the necessary
• shirts Cotton with disgusting stains of sweat, but above all soaked to the bone
• combs sticking out from the bag, because it is nice once in a life

I leave to you any further reflection ... sigh!

start with some details

What was the environment before ...

... and after

Games
clouds

On the top

The top of the shelter and Resegone Azzoni

Towards the south, the plain

”live View / - Axis

Who said that you are all beautiful!? Flowers

Back in 2001 when I created something for the first time in corn paste, I tried to go beyond simple flowers. My gaze was lost in the void and I imagined a beautiful winged creature out of a storybook left open by a mom the night before had told a tale of fairies to their child. Before I saw it already create a hair color of the sun, an angelic face, robes of nature.
I immediately got to work, to create this little creature I had to fight against potholes that were created on the face, pass these difficulties thousand other impediments are put between me and the success of the work, but the desire to finish it was too much and the image I had in mind was too good.
After several scrapes I could do my little fairy, but disappointment was not as I hoped she was born:



The wings are the only thing that I love:



I had to make a face plate just because I was trying to create something similar to the human face cracks peeking on my sculpture, was born a bit 'strange, a little' Not good, but it is my creature.

(all photos are mine production)

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lost

Today I was faced with cleaning, a goblin made me find something I forgot, my first jobs in corn paste, a smile appeared on my lips, my mind flew to the summer of 2001 when I went into his head to want to try this new technique. When I started I could not create a head without cracks during drying, so I gave up and decided to create just the flowers.
Before I was delighted with the paste of salt, but nothing remains of the mother's fantasy that I had built. All it needed was a day when Tefnut (Egyptian god of humidity) did peek at the sky that my creations would return to the primitive stage, simple colored soft jelly.
These are my first corn paste flowers, many of which have fallen a thousand times to the ground and some petals flew away.


and here is a particularly

(photo, all images are mine production)

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Another type of organic pasta is the famous corn paste. It too is very cheap to make, but if it includes in the ingredients that make it more resistant than the salt dough. A creation
paste Corn does not require cooking because, just leave the work in contact with the air to have a very solid building. When I first time I was amazed by the corn paste its flexibility, however, is a technique that I abandoned after a short time because my goal was to create very human faces and I could not to make the cracks on parts round of the head. So over time I have used this technique to create only a few flowers.
As the salt dough, the corn can still be colored raw or after drying. Here too, the colors incorporated in the dough still soft after the object has reached its level of resistance to change the hue color, becoming more flamboyant. For the dough of corn can be used any type of polish. The polishing makes the object very similar to ceramics.
Here are the ingredients for pasta corn :

• 150 g of corn starch

• 250 g of PVA glue

• 2 tablespoons olive oil or Vaseline paraffin (oil wine)

• 1 teaspoon lemon juice or drops of lavender oil or essence

Procedure:
Mix the ingredients gently in an old saucepan while avoiding any possible lumps. Cook the mixture over low heat, stirring constantly until the dough comes off the sides of the pan. Place on a plan and trying not to get burned a little mix 'pasta. Then, as the salt dough, you can proceed in two ways:

• incorporating the color temperature (I prefer them) in the dough, taking the appropriate amount to our purpose and resting a bit 'color in a depression created to accommodate the temperature, then mix the colors together with the pasta.

• create sculpture and painting it after reaching suitable consistency. If we choose this method you should use the colors much more resistant to tempera.

The paste that is left is advisable to close it in a bag or in a film to prevent the dough from drying out.
After our baby has reached the desired look we can proceed to polishing.
polished look that is dry and we can show our object in any place without fear that a damp and dreary day destroy our beloved creature.

(photo: corn paste, taken a long time ago)