the city of madmen

two days ago, a. and me went for a one-day trip to venice because i had to make a few drawings for my sketching class. it was only my second time there, and i have to say i loved it twice as much as the first time. when you're aimlessly wandering through the narrow streets and squinting at the reflections of sun in the canals, with a cigarette in one hand and a sketchbook in the other, it's easy to slip into a different time. suddenly, you can catch a glimpse of a merchant from the 17th century in his silk and silver through the window of a palazzo, hear the beggars' murmur in a back alley and the subtle sound of oars against the muddy canal water, run into a group of gipsy children playing in the campo, and follow a lonely gondolier into a dark brothel. venice is where history is alive and a part of today. it's the city of madmen, as vilanelle from 'the passion' puts it. it is the city of watery mazes, where you can get lost just to be found again at the shores of the immense, vast green sea.