Thursday, September 23, 2010


A friend described a small hotel in town as


but I heard-saw it as having eaux and pincushion softness, which brought to mind


and along with it the marble quiet of an art gallery I visited one afternoon many, many years ago in Rome. Everybody else was tromping from one famous site to the next. I had no interest whatsoever in seeing the Colosseum. It was a lot of rocks.

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