Italy can give you an impression of permanence; ancient things linger on and stretch shadows over the present. But there is a lot here that is ephemeral, transient or weightless. Here are some of these sorts of things that I’ve come across.
The lives of plants marking the seasons
Storms, sunsets, smog and sunbeams: slipping silently, sublimely across the sky.
Always moving, a thousand miles away from marble statues.
Light, and shadow
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These steps in the Prada Foundation’s ‘Haunted House’ are made of micaceous stone that gleams softly in the strange light that filters in.
Dancing reflections on the old Medici chapel wall in Florence.
My dress, drying in the window.
The last light coming through my window in the late afternoon of the first weeks here. Now it no longer comes in, but nor am in in this room any longer. Instead I am greeted by the morning sun, when it comes up at last, towards eight.