To be in love is to willingly lock your destiny to another, to see no fault in them, to see every move you make through filters of their image and to celebrate the joy and pain of your passion in them. Love is alive and eternal in Tuscany.
How often does it happen to you that you are in museum looking at art and you notice people going first to the little cards or papers that hold a description about the art and reading it before even looking at what it describes? By doing that, don’t we prejudge an artwork and fill ourselves with another person’s impression and facts that end up closing us to the natural way of being with something? Aren’t there two parts of us (at least) that can register new impressions? Don’t we register things consciously with our senses while another unseen part of us takes it in in a whole other manner that we cannot consciously comprehend? Wouldn’t it be better to give ourselves the chance first to detect art before filling our heads with information?
photo~ The beautiful Andrea in a long exposure on the bank of the Arno river in Pisa
I often think about the times when humans lived without electricity, the nights when darkness enveloped all with a shroud of mystery. Where people different then? They must have been forced to gaze at the night skies for any source of light, or at the blazing fires that kept them warm. Does electricity force us into a state of daytime existence in the hours of the night that were meant for stargazing, mystery dreaming and contemplation? Is that why we feel so connected to the planet when we go camping or when we visit the desert at night? I also wonder what this river in Florence looked and felt like at the time of the Renaissance…
Like all art lovers, I have dreamt of the first time I would lay eyes on Florence. I read, I researched, I gazed at art, I dove into the renaissance, its music, its glorious artists, its astounding architecture, and I thought what I would finally meet would be so awe inspiring. But Florence exceded my expectations by leaps and bounds. I fell in love instantly, I was smitten, I walked around with a mouth gaping open and I could almost hear my camera giggling with delight. It was magical, enchanting, rich in history and golden. I try with this image to paint my feelings about Florence as I superimposed them on what my camera registered.