It’s been a while since I posted about Italy – and I think about it every day, so how about another one? Here’s a picture and a haiku:
in busy pigeons
There’s got to be a novel set within Venice, lurking inside my head.
Even if you’re only there for a short time, the place strikes you with a sense of the unseen. When you can find a quiet moment, the suggestion of secrets seem to be everywhere, behind each closed door and at the end of every boat ride.
The moorings must have seen everything possible to see over the years.
I’m a little surprised to realise it’s been over a year since my wife and I returned from Italy – it doesn’t feel that long at all. We both think about Italy everyday and I’m always wondering how to get back. (One day, but not for a while at least). I also meant to write a lot more about Italy, but it’s fallen by the wayside for now, though I’ll get back to it sooner or later.
In the meantime, here’s a photo of me during a gondola ride in Venice, it was great to watch our gondolier kick off from walls and even other gondola, in addition to use of his oar.
We slept late because of the Conrad trial, which shows the defense as bumbling and pointless, and the doctor as grossly negligent. The Accademia was not too far from the Duomo and once we gained entry, we moved into a hall of paintings and on to a nearby stairway which eventually led to a wide hall – around which stood David (almost with no warning.)
He was lit effectively, standing twelve feet on a podium that was already about five feet tall, and gazing off to the distance, way over our heads and seeming a little bothered by the attention? The marble sculpture was just a triumph of detail – veins, muscle, smooth, smooth skin, powerful, all that suspended grace standing with a mix of casualness and pride.
It was probably the best piece of art we saw in Italy – repeating the word ‘masterpiece’ here doesn’t seem like much, but looking up at David, he strikes you that way. We circled the statue, noting wear on his toes, the piece of cloth and the counterweight tree-branch at his leg, ultimately hesitant to leave.
in small plastic cups
green fields blur
crowded with the
swell of English accents
in the souvenir shop
the fan droops
trimming mat board
with borrowed scissors
Dr Conrad squirms
to climb the Duomo
and breathe in the whole city
towering over us
a political rally leads us to the Pantheon
where willing cafes
with the chatter of silverware
the crowds have no ebb
their tanned skin pools round the columns
where echoes from buskers
hang like webs
the sun bleaches the Fountain
and its repairs are frozen
by my camera
we line up
and you are beautiful
just beginning to sweat at the temples.
Fantastic news, Lesley Carter has republished my ‘Begging in Rome’ post at her travel blog ‘Bucket List Publications‘ – very happy to announce it here, it was great to touch the post up again and to ‘revisit’ Italy, I’m reminded how lucky I was to visit.
And be sure to have a look at the loads and loads of other great stories at her blog too.