Venice
First things first: a congratulations to Valerio, who aced his exam after studying more diligently than was probably healthy. International Rights will never be the same. Well done, magus.
Venice is truly a bizarre city. No cars. The canals are the only semi-direct path anywhere. Everywhere else is a maze with the power to stretch time out to twice its length. Granted, this theoretically means I could live twice as long, but I'd spend all that time just looking for a place to actually eat while sitting down like a civilized human being should. The city itself isn't terribly big, but walking anywhere becomes a real test of navigation, endurance, and patience. I thank God that some weird impulse led me to take a compass on this quest: the maps would be almost useless without it.
Then night falls. Venice, by night, is a little quieter. The boat traffic is mostly reduced to the vaporettos (the boat busses), and the lights of pubs and restaurants and hotels dances off the canals. With less people on the street and less boats on the water, it really hits me... there is something truly otherworldly about a city built on the water. They have to constantly maintain city services, sustain them from the gradual sinking going on all over, and it's got to be expensive for Venice as a whole. But the place is just a step away from a city built entirely in the trees. Think long enough about a city with canals for streets, and you soon find yourself in a dreamscape, moonlit and a little quieter and populated by shadowy people who flock to the lights of pubs like moths go to the flame.
Weather permitting (because it seems like my luck's run out), I'll get a chance to see the little islands all around Venice. So far, I've seen the Accademia and Guggenheim galleries -- which really were fantastic -- and more than a few peaceful churches that are older than the recognizably English language.
More importantly, I want to take a moment to thank you all. Seriously. Thank you for having filled my life with so much meaning and joy. I cannot thank you enough. I find myself narrating what I see, as if preparing to tell you all when I get back, or preparing to write it here in this blog. So you aren't far from my heart and my mind. Your names are carved into my bones.
I love you.
Venice is truly a bizarre city. No cars. The canals are the only semi-direct path anywhere. Everywhere else is a maze with the power to stretch time out to twice its length. Granted, this theoretically means I could live twice as long, but I'd spend all that time just looking for a place to actually eat while sitting down like a civilized human being should. The city itself isn't terribly big, but walking anywhere becomes a real test of navigation, endurance, and patience. I thank God that some weird impulse led me to take a compass on this quest: the maps would be almost useless without it.
Then night falls. Venice, by night, is a little quieter. The boat traffic is mostly reduced to the vaporettos (the boat busses), and the lights of pubs and restaurants and hotels dances off the canals. With less people on the street and less boats on the water, it really hits me... there is something truly otherworldly about a city built on the water. They have to constantly maintain city services, sustain them from the gradual sinking going on all over, and it's got to be expensive for Venice as a whole. But the place is just a step away from a city built entirely in the trees. Think long enough about a city with canals for streets, and you soon find yourself in a dreamscape, moonlit and a little quieter and populated by shadowy people who flock to the lights of pubs like moths go to the flame.
Weather permitting (because it seems like my luck's run out), I'll get a chance to see the little islands all around Venice. So far, I've seen the Accademia and Guggenheim galleries -- which really were fantastic -- and more than a few peaceful churches that are older than the recognizably English language.
More importantly, I want to take a moment to thank you all. Seriously. Thank you for having filled my life with so much meaning and joy. I cannot thank you enough. I find myself narrating what I see, as if preparing to tell you all when I get back, or preparing to write it here in this blog. So you aren't far from my heart and my mind. Your names are carved into my bones.
I love you.
posted by Ghostwind | 9:04 AM
7 Comments:
i'm glad you've found the beauty also in Venice.
my spirit follows you, take care.
An.
Mom says...
Soooo glad you got to a computer. I've been checking several times a day for more info. Leaving Rio Grande Valley tomorrow am and heading back to Shreveport. Will take two days. Looking forward to seeing all of our Louisiana family. Stephanie's baby should be born within the week. Love you. Keep me in your prayers as I make a major change in my life. You surely know what I reference. God be with you. Mom
Ahh Venice. Danny and I (he was in town this past week) were debating where you would go next. I was thinking Rome, but that was a bit too obvious of an answer I think ;)
I would have been nice to have you here as well to complete our triad or dorkdom. I finshed Preacher, you really need read that series from front to back. I also stole Promethea from Justin and Erica, the King Solomon part you told me in Masterson's (that is that name of the place right...?) still makes me chuckle.
I never really thought about Venice like you described it. You have always been a great story teller, I'm glad you are the hero of the current tale you are spinning. But damn you for making me want to visit all of these places!
Well take care brother, can't wait to read the next chapter in your tale!
-Joe
Thank you for being the pilgrim. Through you I believe Italy should be my final answer.
"The individual, through prolonged psychological disciplines, gives up completely all attachment to his personal limitations, idiosyncracies, hopes and fears, no longer resists the self-annihilation that is prerequisite to rebirth in the realization of truth, and so becomes ripe, at last, for the great At-One-Ment." (Joseph Campbell)
Thank you for being the man you are, even as you become more fully the same man, my son.
Love, D
ehi, Eddie, check this :D
http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/51853646/
thank you for everything.
You're names are written on my bones and your dreams flow through my blood. I'm so glad that Venice was as interesting as I always hoped it was.
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