Posted in Carnevale Venice 2018 World Travels

Carnevale 2018

Posted in Carnevale Venice 2018 World Travels

Where are all the cars?

Today I was remembering the transportation in Venice while working on this scrapbook page.

 

One of the things I love most about scrapbooking is how much you think about the thing you are trying to remember with the page while you are making it.

 

In Venice your brain can never really get around there not being cars when you get there. You make the decision you are going to go someplace, and it hits you that you can’t just go out and get in the car. There are no cars. That becomes less painful once you get your bearings and realize that you truly can walk across the entire island in about an hour if you don’t get lost, but I wouldn’t count on ever going someplace that you don’t get turned around in Venice.

Several times we went out to just roam about and spent about an hour just snapping photos of beautiful doorways. We felt like we were on the other side of the world and we had seen so many things that we didn’t even care where we were.

Suddenly I stopped to catch a photo of Bill standing on a little bridge and as I backed up to get the frame I realized that we were at our hotel and the entire time we had only been on the other side of the building ?

Posted in Carnevale Venice 2018 World Travels

Smile !

One of the things that I didn’t know in advance was how many photos would be taken of us by strangers while at Carnevale.  I guess, I thought it would be fun, but I don’t think I ever knew that photographers would come from around the world to photograph those of us in the costumes and masks.  On the first day when we put our costumes on and walked out to San Marco Square we were shocked by the fact that we couldn’t reach the square. As soon as we made our way out of the tiny little street that met up with the Grand Canal we were met with a rush of paparazzi and every single step we took for the next four days was labored.

​With what is a space that feels less than a single square mile and a gathering of more than three million people, it becomes a close encounter quickly in Venice. But the feeling of excitement when you are pursued by thousands of photographers is hard to explain. I remember thinking after a few hours that it was mad that so many people pressed for a photo. We had all kinds. Those who waited patiently in line for their turn and respectfully stepped in to snap a selfie, those who grabbed a hold of you physically and wouldn’t let go until their spouse captured the shot (witch), those that were so adorable you couldn’t resist stopping to snap a photo and hoping that you would later find it on social media and my favorite were those where a guy with a giant camera and self-contained light would pounce on you and start snapping what felt like dozens of photos and before you knew it he was directing you to move left or right and place your hand here and bend like this and had totally taken over the situation. Those are the men and women that you took the time to hand your email address to and just prayed that they would share it with you later. Some of those photos have been shared with us and it has been like an adventure every single day since we got home to search the bowels of the internet for just one more of the thousands of photos that exist now out there somewhere just waiting to be found.

 

 

Posted in Carnevale Venice 2018 World Travels

Italian Men Fall In Love Quickly

Posted in Carnevale Venice 2018 World Travels

To just not be forgotten

I don’t know that I will ever be able to remember everything that I hope to remember about our vacation to Venice. Some days I really can’t focus because my mind is so cluttered with the memories and it feels like I could never forget a single detail. But the truth is I do. I forget most things that are feelings or moments, sweet and precious. I have photos and I look at them often, but I find that the little things that I write down are in the end the things that I get to recycle and experience again in my mind.

Does that even make sense?

My oldest son is going to be thirty years old in January. That doesn’t seem possible to me. Am I that old? Is my youngest son really going to be 13 in May? Once, I held their little bodies in my arms and fell in love with them. I don’t think I will ever forget those days.

Once, I was published in a book. Like in a library. Those don’t exist much anymore. Libraries or books. But someplace there’s a volume sitting on a shelf with words in it that I wrote and a scrapbook page that I designed. It was amazing, and I don’t think I will ever forget how that felt.

Once, I held a geocaching event and 518 people showed up in my yard. It was the most amazing thing and I don’t think I will ever forget that day.

Once, I stood in front of the Eiffel Tower and I held so tight to the hand of the man that I love truly more than anything that I have ever known. I wore a dress that was huge, and I strolled the streets of Paris like I was a princess and I never take a breath that I don’t think of that day.

Once, I stepped out onto the streets of Venice and for that week, I was famous. Thousands of photographers, mobs of people from all over, pushed and shoved to get a photo of me. It was the single most crazy amazing thing ever and I will absolutely never forget that day.

I am going to live as much of life here as I am able and experience enough that when I am forced to go, screaming and kicking, I hope I can think to myself that I am satisfied with the life I left behind.

Tonight, I watched the movie CoCo with Bill and we both cried at the end. I felt myself thinking that all anyone ever really wants from life is to just not be forgotten.

I pray that somehow in my life I have done something that left a mark large enough that when I am gone someone just remembers me.

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