i’m always dreaming about one italian city or another. perhaps that’s because i’ve spent my life admiring and learning about architecture, art, and the greats of the past. when i walk down a street to see the galleria dell’accademia, orient myself by the orange-ish hue of the duomo, or casually stroll past storefronts for every italian designer i’ve heard of but can’t afford, it brings me a warmth and joy unparalleled to that which i’ve experienced in america thus far. these breath taking moments exist on every street of every city in italy. something continually reveals itself as the most fantastic sight i’ve seen that day.
america has its own architectural beauties and natural phenomena which are wonderful and awe-inspiring. but there’s something about the italian way of life and daily routine that has captured my heart – and it doesn’t seem like it will be letting go any time soon. the only remedy is for my wanderlust to be followed, to the streets of milan and wherever else my passport and bank account will allow.