In Italy I thought a lot about describing things; I was constantly doing it for Fellows about my life in New York and for friends and family about my temporary life in Italy. There’s always something lost in a description of a thing, and maybe (hopefully), when that...
We paint the bedroom walls Quixotic Plum.We paint the bedroom ceiling Foggy Day. You paint your nails and eyelids Powder Blue.We drive to photograph the flying buttresses of the flamboyant oil refineryand stay through dusk to catch the glimmering reflections of its...
War, violence, killing, poverty, absence of freedom and ugliness was my reality in Belgrade. Civitella was something totally different. That was magic place full of light where everything had a special aura, a place where you can touch and smell beauty. There I was...
