Monthly Archives: July 2015
That make-it-pretty gene? The French have it too. Let things get old. Honor them. Live with them. Stack them. Layer them. Let them be. The hilltop town of Vézelay is the proof. Advertisements
It was sunny and hot for weeks. And then as intensely as it had been feverish, it was the opposite. Sweaters out of the mothballs. And a chance to look at things under a different sky.
My first post here was entitled “The importance of blue.” That was August 8, 2010. Nearly 5 years have gone by, and in those 5 years, so much has happened, hasn’t it? For you, I hope they’ve been 5 amazing years … Continue reading
He flew into the house today just begging to be photographed. I obliged. Advertisements
You never forget your first granita. Mine was the classic granita al limone on the island of Favignana. Somewhere there’s a black and white snapshot of me, bent in full concentration, over this Mediterranean wonder of ice, lemon juice and … Continue reading
There won’t be any pictures today. I have been digitally lazy, and besides, I don’t think I could show what I’m trying to express. I am, essentially, a torn person. And I’m learning that I’m happy that way. Maybe “wholeness” … Continue reading
I’ve been in Italy for 18 years. And I never stop marveling at how pretty it is. And the real head-scratcher is this: how is it that Italians have a knack for creating beauty in a particular way that the … Continue reading