Fagioli on the stove, bright skies above, almost over jet lag. Dreaming about my work at the studio. Here I am. Venezia, my city of reflections. Building shimmer in canals, an ever changing parade of world visitors stops below my windows to reflect on the significance of the sign: Ponte de Ghetto Novo. And, I too, reflect on the past and how lucky I am to be here, now, in the moment.
Another reflection: to make a watercolor sketch each day—a visual journal. The riva at dusk.
No comments:
Post a Comment