m wood pen

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Venice

02/17/2015

Venetian Days

The tundra of winter brings my senses flooding longingly to the day, long ago, when I first stepped off the train and into this exotic, middle-east scented, tan, umber, espresso, leather, garlic, fish, pasta-filled Italian place. Haunting me ever since, my pen reaches across the seas, beyond the snow, the chill, the language, and settles me, delightedly, back amidst this wayfarers dream.
Venice, Bridge of Sighs by Melissa Wood

 

as my creative brain, not unlike the hard drive of a computer, gets all clogged up with the unfathomable facts of this long life, it seems harder than ever to recall many things. i tend to play my own version of that kevin bacon ‘six degrees of separation’ game, certain that one glimpsed memory will …

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