inspiration #14 : a diary excerpt.
18 Jan 12
The Veneto today is an icy kingdom.
Palazzo Grassi — the room with the gunpowder trees and moon — “Life is Beautiful” in knives — El Anatsui — art, fog, cold, the sea — why I love Venice. I’m drinking Valpolicella at Muro with a beautiful golden retriever. The people next to me are drinking Aperol spritzes. It’s cold here like I’ve never known, a damp, penetrating cold. It doesn’t really matter — in a way, it’s nice. I bought a beret in a shop, gloves for Mom and myself, a caffe macchiato and little cookie, several art postcards, and the catalogue from the exhibit at Palazzo Grassi. The man with the golden retriever is handsome and older; he wears a Rolex Daytona and gives treats to the dog. The bar is getting crowded — lots of young girls, in a way that makes you think there’s a school or college nearby. I imagine coming here with him and wandering the little streets, stopping off for aperitifs and digestifs and local specialties, tramezzini and prosecco and things neither of us have at home. Talking about what people talk about when they hardly know each other, getting lots and buying souvenirs. Pretending that within these canals and palazzi there is no one else. That’s what makes it an affair, and a dream.