“You look like a Philosophy Princess. Not because you aren’t as powerful as a Queen, but because a Princess would always be more beautiful than a Queen.” –The love of my life Sarah Lovejoy
This is how I feel about Venice. Light shining over my head in a moment of pure enlightenment and joy, as I decide this PLS-infused mask was meant for me, and Venice is a magical place. This is how I felt wandering the tiny side streets of Dorsoduro and Castello, how I felt gliding down the canals of San Marco at night in almost the only gondola on the water, how I felt dancing to a live band in the middle of an anonymous piazza Friday night: jubilant, awestruck, content in the fullest sense.
Twenty percent of the time, this is also how I felt about Venice.
Like I told one Timothy Dore after my return to Rome, eighty percent of the time was like I was living inside of The Thief Lord, and the other twenty percent I was living in a tourist-infested nightmare. Least favorite part of Venice? Its most famous piazza. During the day at least, because late night San Marco was a significant improvement.
But even three days later that twenty percent has almost faded into darkness leaving only the beautiful parts of Venice which are really making me want to re-read The Thief Lord. Honestly going through the actual chain of events of Venice doesn’t capture what this weekend was about even a little bit. In fact it’s all blended together for me so much that isolating my favorite moment is extraordinarily difficult. Essentially, the entire three days can be boiled down to one complete moment. And in it, we were infinite.