It was a night with wispy clouds, a long time coming. A time between days of the week. A night where good happened. I had to make it happen. I had to climb out of bed, dig through cotton and grime, toss aside rubber soles and grab a towel. I had to get out!
A heavy coat and snow pants, the towel around my waist, I made my way to the hill. Last time the sun was out I'd walked to the peak and down. Now it was an obstacle, not a friend. Now it begged to be conquered. I walk straight up, across the criss crossing trail, slipping into the snow and mud, wiping myself with the towel and draping it over barbed wire. Halfway up I heard college drunkards, "we got a beer for you once you get here!" I hadn't talked to another person on campus for over a month. Their voice echoed behind me, off of old brick buildings.
I found out that night, how to breathe cold air and feel warmer, how to make genuine friends, the kind of friends whose art you hang on the wall, but don't remember their name, lasting memories, of holding onto a soaked towel, and sledding down a mountain.
Giacomo Ranieri is a Mountain valley outcast, who will settle on a single passion in another life. His creative projects are multi-disciplined, spanning from recording interviews, creating chapbooks of writing and drawings, editing videos, managing marketing for freelance artists, and producing multimedia projects. Giacomo is a student in the graduate program of Book Publishing at Portland State University. He grew up leaping over creeks in Montana. He once owned four rats, is rarely competitive, and his dream is to run a short-form animated production company that focuses on educational content, and the nuances of how we speak about what we learn. Right now he's writing flash fiction, poetry, and creative non-fiction.