Elena Gianni is actually studying at CIID.
Biography:
Elena was born in the Tuscan countryside. She moved to the north to study telecommunication engineering and then media engineering at Turin Polytechnic, where she graduated with a thesis about Processing and ActionScript programming languages.
She fell in love with interaction design because of her passion for technology, contemporary art, design and future investigations, and this love brought her to do an intership at TODO and to work as a flash developer for Experientia interaction design studio in Turin.
She would like to change the world to help people live better. In the meantime, she wastes her time reading bunches of comics, books and blogs.
Elena writes about contemporary art & design for Digimag magazine.
Elena was born in the Tuscan countryside. She moved to the north to study telecommunication engineering and then media engineering at Turin Polytechnic, where she graduated with a thesis about Processing and ActionScript programming languages.
She fell in love with interaction design because of her passion for technology, contemporary art, design and future investigations, and this love brought her to do an intership at TODO and to work as a flash developer for Experientia interaction design studio in Turin.
She would like to change the world to help people live better. In the meantime, she wastes her time reading bunches of comics, books and blogs.
Elena writes about contemporary art & design for Digimag magazine.
Articles I wrote:
sooooon…
sooooon…
About this blog:
Ma bohème (fantaisie)
Je m’en allais, les poings dans mes poches crevées;
Mon paletot soudain devenait idéal;
J’allais sous le ciel, Muse, et j’étais ton féal;
Oh! là là! que d’amours splendides j’ai rêvées!Mon unique culotte avait un large trou.
Petit-Poucet rêveur, j’égrenais dans ma course
Des rimes. Mon auberge était à la Grande-Ourse.
Mes étoiles au ciel avaient un doux frou-frouEt je les écoutais, assis au bord des routes,
Ces bons soirs de septembre où je sentais des gouttes
De rosée à mon front, comme un vin de vigueur;Où, rimant au milieu des ombres fantastiques,
Comme des lyres, je tirais les élastiques
De mes souliers blessés, un pied près de mon coeur!A. Rimbaud
