DAY 30: Ode to Pigeons

ODE TO PIGEONS

You waddle, 

You squawk.

You model,

The catwalk.

I could kick you with my shoe,

But you fly off and release poo.

Through the air it drops,

Onto my hair it stops.

Dirty pigeon, I loath you.

Where there is one, there are two.

Stupid grey birds.

In armies and in herds.

Go strut your stuff,

I've had enough.

Go waddle, go squawk.

Go model that catwalk.

Please hold your applause until the end. 


Got to experience the "Wrath of The Harv"... and it's only the second day! Miscommunications in meeting times led to people jumping out of the shower and onto the water bus in a matter of minutes. Last time we let that happen... Rainy, cold weather... thank God for museums... we entered the Guggenheim, along with five classes of 3rd graders. (Do they even know what they're looking at? Do they know that Picasso had a dog named "Lump?" No, they don't... and you didn't either...) The "Gugg" is Peggy Guggenheim's pad from the 1960's, right on the water of the Grand Canal (ok that was an unnecessarily DUMB comment- EVERYTHING is right on the water in Venice...) with an incredible collection- Picasso, Dali, Duchamp, Kandinsky, Rothko... lots of cubism, futurism and European-abstraction paintings. She loved dogs and turquoise almost as much as myself, so I thoroughly enjoyed her house (needless to say, she had great taste)- reminded me a lot of my great-grandmother, Gee-Gee. 

We had 3 hours to kill before our next sacred vessel entrance, and since traveling in a group of 15 people at a glacial pace is enough to drive me to drink, a few of us split off for lunch. Piccillo Bar & Restaurant had a 7 page menu in 5 languages, so you can imagine how fine the cuisine was... regardless, a shrimp, tuna fish and anchovy salad hit the spot while we watched a French couple throw down an anti-pasta platter, fettucini alfredo, steak with potatoes, salad and flan... and they didn't even share with each other! I was impressed... when my meal is humdrum, my eyes tend to wander to the neighbors... we basked in our fatigued glaze before we braved the downpour...

Next stop: Gallerie dell'Academia which fosters a very rich collection of Venetian paintings from the 14th century to the artists of the Renaissance. Guys like Carpaccio and Giorgione influenced the whole history of European painting with their exquisite details in, funny enough, fashion & jewelry. Most of his "characters" are rather unfortunate looking- these butter-faces (all but-her-face) as I call them, were overlooked because of the emaculate detail in their dress. Each pearl is intimately strung and each silk ruffle tailored to perfection. Not to mention they achieved this on a canvas that covers an entire wall! Although impressive, seeing Little Blue Maryhood over and over grew tiresome fast... but when in Rome! Or Venice...


I grabbed some colored pencils at an art supply store that was the size of an outhouse, and on our way to the water bus, an old man's fedora blew off his head and into the water! Little Justine stealthily snatched an umbrella from a gawker and hooked it up just before it sank. He escorted her to a nearby cafe, and insisted on rewarding her with a treat- Jesse, Kate and I followed, (to reap the benefits) as he bought us all cafes (shot of espresso). The owner told us he is the best lawyer in Venezia, a very good man... pretty darling to treat 4 American girls like that.


I'm concerned that art is going to take over my passion for food and I may be going more in depth on that obsession in the future. Well, not concerned for myself, more so for my hungry fans that may grow bored and start sending hate mail... Trust that if/when I have an outstanding meal, YOU WILL KNOW. Actually, even if I have a slice of pizza, you will know, but Toto, I'm afraid we're not in France anymore... More later, ciao ciao!