Galleria dell'Accademia. In 45 anni non ci ero ancora mai andata. Lo so, vergogna vergogna. Ma ora ho colmato la lacuna e per di più ho approfittato della concomitante mostra di foto di Robert Mapplethorpe.
Una cosa fantastica, un'emozione profonda. Intanto da vera ignorantona I did not know that the gallery also contains a lot of fine pictures, among other things on the agenda here in Florence, and leaving, I am made completely overwhelmed by feelings that the pictures convey knew: whites and blacks in law enforcement and merger perfect shapes, lights and calculated at the same time natural, I would go from one photo to another completely wrapped around what I saw, I went back on my feet to find a particular or a set, but proceeded slowly.
Suddenly abandoning the last photo with his eyes and looking for the next ......
I found myself in front of him, David. The real .
Like a real magnet has attracted all my attention. I found it so beautiful that I could not take my eyes off, is very high, is perfect, the turn around is like sipping that beauty was essential, and I endless insatiable.
At one point, but I sensed something off-key, of tiresome, of deconcentrante. "I'ccellulare", "I'mmi'figliolo", "Yes I perchéppoi gliel'aveo said."
What is it?
A loud voice of a woman, a keeper of the museum, with his vacuous speeches had broken the spell. He continued to smanaccando erudite colleagues better on his cases. I looked like an alien.
There, in front of David, ten feet off the David.
may have to get used to everything? Even the beauty?
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