“I FOUND THAT MY DREAM
HAD BECOME MY ADDRESS…”
I went for the first time to Venice 8 years ago. I thought it no different from any other city, except that it was, rather impractically, on water. I took a few photos, ate some gelato, caught a train to Vienna.
3 years later, in the footsteps of John Ruskin, I returned to Venice to read his work in front of the very buildings by which he wished to instruct us.
My first morning there, I tip-toed into a frigid church, book in hand, and that was that. It was all there as plain as day—if only I knew HOW to see.
I was dumbfounded for a month: COULD EACH & EVERY STONE OF VENICE MEAN SO MUCH?