Roma Mia

Can you fall in love with a city? I think maybe yes. Love is a mystery... you are drawn in, attracted. It isn't logical, but something deep within you that recognizes itself outside of yourself. A familiarity, like you're called to be there. Maybe you've existed there before. A fragrance, an energy, something utterly inexpressible pulling you in, with all the beauty and ugliness wrapped up together.

There is something about this place, Roma. Something almost tangible. A memory floating just outside my mind's net and my tongue's sweep. Something that hints at that to which I am drawn. I am convinced it is in the light. What is it in the light? Everything is more beautiful here... the ugliest side of humanity and the most glorious of the divine. It all shines and exists for what it is, despite contradiction. The man with the club foot lying homeless in the street next to the majestic decadence of St. Peter's Basilica. The stark and imposing brutality of the Coliseum in the shadow of the meticulous Vittoriano monument. The light shines on contradictions with no judgment. And the birds, they just fly above it all, against the pearlized pink and blue, iridescent wings free from gravity and the weight of time.

Perhaps I'm in love with what this city represents... to love without judgment, unconditionally. The freedom and brutal honesty of simply revealing what is.