I arrived in Venice at one o'clock to be greeted by the wonderful Alan Bowman. We have a glass or two of succulent red wine in series of delightful understated but gloriously fine bistros and then I'm guided through the raggle-taggle back streets of Venice, over the Grand Canal on a see-saw gondolier, and finally to the Emily Harvey Foundation Office. Here I am met by the lovely Sylvia whom with Alan and I, are led to amazing apartment in the center of the city, I feel like a cat that has not only got his cream, but the canal itself is overflowing with it. I lap it up with my eyes.
I am awestuck at Venice’s charming streets and natuaral beauty. Overwhelmed by the knowledge that I’m going to live here for five weeks. What a thrill, I only hope I can be inspired to make some great artwork here. I speak to Alan about his surreal new work, about making dens and how cities can get under a persons skin. The northern city I have lived in the last ten years is so very different from here. This city is floating and carved out of chaotic stone.
I think about my very own chaos and how I wish a certain friends were here by my side. But there will be other times, when we may jump and jaunt in similar streets. The sun goes down and I return home proud in the knowledge I have found a good shop to buy my weekly food. The comfort of the familiar. Finding the things we need. What will night bring and what will this thunderous playground offer up. Is this city a distant and mistrusting soul, is she a jilted lover, is she kind and friendly, or a fox dazzled by the flash of a camera.
I feel happy…really happy.
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