As you read this today, Michelle and I are en route to Rome.
I know, right? Italy-- oh my word--- I don't even have the words.
No, I mean I really don't have the words: I speak zero Italian. Not that I haven't tried to learn-- I have. It's just that it kills my French and I am too afraid of losing my French to power through and learn Italian. But, maybe after a week in Abruzzo, I will happily trade in my accent grave for some passionate hand gestures.
Yes-- Abruzzo! We are going to get things set up for next October and I am both quite excited and an absolutely empty vessel since I have never been to Italy and don't have a clue as to what to expect. Happily, we have our cameras with us and our laptops so we hope to share what we find. (They let cameras into discoteques, yes?)
Then, I head back to the States, but Michelle continues on to the other side of the world where she will be with her family for the thrilling launch of David Alan Harvey's latest endeavor: (based on a true story) a wildly innovative book that comes into the world May 4 in Sydney at the HeadOn photo fest.
I know she will have loads to be seeing and doing, but if I were in her shoes, I would so be stalking the Paddington Markets in Sidney to see if Warp & Weft were on hand. Because this is Harriet Goodall (one half of Warp & Weft) and I am positively smitten. I think I would travel all the way to Australia just to see her baskets of light.
Me. The world's worst traveler-- but hey, in the next seven days there will be much with the plane, the bus, the car, the train--- after all that, a jaunt down under will be cake, don't you think?
You know, maybe in a year or two once I have recovered from all this transatlantic excitement.
Meantime-- ciao bella! mille grazie! prego!
and all that jazz . . .
*photo by Lorenzo Surricchio
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