“I WOULD RATHER DIE IN VENICE,
THAN LIVE ELSEWHERE…”
I went for the first time to Venice 7 years ago. I thought her no different from any other city, except that she was, most impractically, on water. I took a few photos, ate some gelato, caught a train to Vienna.
2 years later, in the footsteps of John Ruskin, I returned to Venice to read his work in the presence of the very buildings by which he wished to instruct us.
On my first morning I tip-toed into a frigid church, book in hand, and that was that. He was right, utterly. It was all there as plain as day, if only you knew HOW to see.
I was dumbfounded for a month.
COULD EACH AND EVERY STONE OF VENICE
REALLY MEAN SO MUCH?