I had to make do with the paint on the walls, then, but the colours captivated me nevertheless. These boulders down by the beach were especially stunning, the different minerals being washed out by the endless tides, leaving only a tangled spiderweb of harder stone.Įven though we were an art school and we were visiting Tuscany we didn’t get to see even one museum from the inside.
If I could go back – and maybe I will someday – I would take my water colours to capture some of those beautiful pastels, the lush green, the stunning turquoise of the waters.Īnd if I were to go back I’d make sure to stay on the island for more than a day, to explore the narrow streets and back alleys, to soak in the sea air and just listen, because even though Portoferraio is a tourist attraction of sorts with the old Medici villa Napoléon took hold of I remember it to be strangely quiet as if the searing Sun bleached not only the colours, but the sounds as well.Īnd I would go swimming, bringing back more sand and stones and pressed flowers, and even more pictures.
Mori kei room full#
One day we’d taken the ferry over to Elba, exile of Napoléon Bonaparte, home to tons of tiny lizards scurrying along sun-warmed stone walls, an island full of steep streets and overly bright sunshine reflected by beautiful rows of old, picturesque houses.
When I sorted through my external hard drive in search for something-or-other I stumbled over a folder I hadn’t seen in years and almost forgotten, titled “Toscana”, full of pictures 18-year old me took on a school trip to Italy before this blog even existed.
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