I have often imagined an issue of LYF dedicated to love. It would have been simple to the point of being obvious, banal. Everything has been said and written about love, the greatest poets of all time have written about love, film makers have told it in unforgettable movies, painters have portrayed it in wonderful forms and so on, any artist has dedicated to it one or more works full of great meaning.

 The most wonderful of feelings that moves everything in this universe has been praised in all its forms. LYF ‘Love comes in many forms’ doesn’t talk about just one kind of love, because naturally there isn’t only one, it doesn’t declaim it using excessively explicit images and immortal sentences, I realize now that it doesn’t really talk about it, it only hints at it, in a subtle, refined, intimate way, leaving the readers the ability to grasp it on the basis of their own sensitivity, their own culture, their own ’emotional education’. It’s seductive how this feeling everyone talks about remains absolutely mysterious, elusive. It is an art shaped by the very material of reality and by the infinite turns of events. Such a voracious force as to upset the existences of human beings, to often change the rules of lives that were thought to be established, predisposed, to make one crazy, happy, desperate, unstable, at the total mercy of this love or these loves, and yet it remains something mysterious that moves everything and regulates everything.

Cristina Frasca