No matter your religion or beliefs, Jesus suffered that day. The Catholic Church will never let us forget it. When you walk into their relics of religion, the pain of his final day is prominent. Some people even wear the cross as a reminder of mortality and human sin. Continue reading “Italian Churches ~ The Power of Image”
I kept hearing how expensive Venice was for eating. But that’s only if you go to the nice places, such as Antiche Carampane, which was booked solid for lunch and dinner when I arrived at 11:45 a.m. I think it would have been worth the 25 euro plates they offered.
Pictures of my day trip through one of the most photographed cities in the world.
My grandmother was the first one in her family born in America. The story goes like this: My great-grandfather, Dante, came to the U.S.A. with his family days before the stock market crash in 1929. A year later, my nonna, Elia, was born. The depression was terrible, the girls dropped out of school to work, boarders stayed at their house, but Dante stayed employed with tile and stone masonry. Life moves on, my grandfather met young Elia before he left for service in WWII, then returned safely, they married and had my father. My parents met in New Jersey, married and had me. The simple twists of fate align, but one part of it began here–in the mountains of Northern Italy–Poffabro. Continue reading “Poffabro ~ Origins of Me”
If you chose a car based on the emblem on the crest of its hood, which would you choose? Pretend you knew nothing about the car, where it was made, how much it cost, the cultural significance of its brand. And simply choose your favorite based on what information you get from the symbol used to proclaim its name. (Please ignore my reflection in the shinier ones, couldn’t be helped.)