Priscila. 21 years old. Foreign languages and literature student. Potterhead. Traveller. Dreamer.
“We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.” Anaïs Nin
“It is with the reading of books the same as with looking at pictures; one must, without doubt, without hesitations, with assurance, admire what is beautiful.” Vincent Van Gogh
It’s been quite a few months now since my trip to Rome, however, though Spring has officially started, there’s snow outside and I caught myself escaping the current weather, if only in my reveries, and thinking about the summer that I have loved the most.
I like to think of Rome as a “poem pressed into service as a city”, as once Anatole Broyard said it was. There’s something about its light, sounds, huge masses of tourists, architecture and almost unbearable heat that makes its summer special like any other. I do believe there’s a right time for everything and waiting for so long to see you, Eternal City, was definitely worth it. And of course the company was a very important factor to the success of such intense days.