Maybe some day I will know the names of all the palazzi
on the canals of this ephemeral place, this mythic city,
somehow floating in time and space.
For now I can only imagine and dream anout lives lived
on this watery firmanent as I observe and wander.
Venice has inspired many: artists, poets, writers.
They have all left their imprint, their footsteps,
now invisible.
Each time I journey to Venice I am seduced.
Venice is as fragile as glass. An appartition.
What is it about la serenissima that continues to inspire so many:
the light, the water, the reflections, the narrow mysterious vicoli,
the rhythm of riding the vaporetti?
The light changes as the fog rolls in, acqua alta, the water rises.
Always a melancholy mood hangs in the air.
Always I feel a connection to the elements: stars, dampness, the smell of coffee.
My interior space.
I stand in the Piazza San Marco. I cannot absorb its fragile beauty in one lifetime.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
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Ewa, I have never been to Venice but feel as if I can taste a bit of it's essence in your words. Just beautiful.
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