My Brush with Death in Venice
The novel, not the state of being. Although I did see a casket piled with calla lilies go by, and assumed it would be bad luck (not to mention tasteless) to photograph it. Everything that moves on roads and highways elsewhere, goes by relatively small boat in Venezia; freight, ambulances, penitentiary transports, etc.
While reviewing a clip of a traghetto pulling away from the dock, I noticed that the older, heftier guy at the far side of the gondola said something to the guy in the traditional black and white striped shirt, so he turned around to grin at the camera. It took me awhile, but I finally put this together with the fact that Sarah Brown's blog (having nothing whatsoever to do with Venice) had mentioned a 2007 calendar of gondolieri...well, actually it mentioned the one with priests, but anyway...this was one of the guys (albeit now working the Santa Sofia stop, as opposed to San Tomà ). The fact that he thought I was photographing him, and not the entire scene is beyond ironic of course, but I'm glad these kids are getting a bit of attention. If you do happen to be interested in one of these boys, you can spend all day with them for two bucks an hour, going back and forth across the canal.
Speaking of attention, I have found the perfect book for traveling, 'Stuffed Animals and Pickled Heads (The Culture and Evolution of Natural History Museums).' If the mere title doesn't get you left alone, Jan Van Rymsdyk's "truly exceptional" rendering of a "mind-numbingly" detailed gravid uterus will. Pushy sorts can be dealt with by way of a quick reverie of what conditions must have been like when drawing this from a (recently deceased) model in 1774...or perhaps a short rant about how the pig he drew this sort of subject for, over a twenty-two year period, did not credit him in his groundbreaking 'magnum opus' on the topic (although one has to assume he was at least paid).
Want to go to Venice? Here, watch the vaporetti come and go...you'll have to imagine the unbelievable grinding noise they make when pulling up to, or leaving, a stop.
While reviewing a clip of a traghetto pulling away from the dock, I noticed that the older, heftier guy at the far side of the gondola said something to the guy in the traditional black and white striped shirt, so he turned around to grin at the camera. It took me awhile, but I finally put this together with the fact that Sarah Brown's blog (having nothing whatsoever to do with Venice) had mentioned a 2007 calendar of gondolieri...well, actually it mentioned the one with priests, but anyway...this was one of the guys (albeit now working the Santa Sofia stop, as opposed to San Tomà ). The fact that he thought I was photographing him, and not the entire scene is beyond ironic of course, but I'm glad these kids are getting a bit of attention. If you do happen to be interested in one of these boys, you can spend all day with them for two bucks an hour, going back and forth across the canal.
Speaking of attention, I have found the perfect book for traveling, 'Stuffed Animals and Pickled Heads (The Culture and Evolution of Natural History Museums).' If the mere title doesn't get you left alone, Jan Van Rymsdyk's "truly exceptional" rendering of a "mind-numbingly" detailed gravid uterus will. Pushy sorts can be dealt with by way of a quick reverie of what conditions must have been like when drawing this from a (recently deceased) model in 1774...or perhaps a short rant about how the pig he drew this sort of subject for, over a twenty-two year period, did not credit him in his groundbreaking 'magnum opus' on the topic (although one has to assume he was at least paid).
Want to go to Venice? Here, watch the vaporetti come and go...you'll have to imagine the unbelievable grinding noise they make when pulling up to, or leaving, a stop.
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