Something is always going on in Venice. Short narrow passageways are abundant in the winding cobblestone streets of Venice. People gather in squares or linger by water spigots placed here and there to quench their thirst. Dogs are seen panting in the paths wishing a cloud would shade them from the treacherous sun. Gondolas lay idle in the canals as gondoliers gently pester tourists and couples, who walk by for a ride.
In the afternoon the Sans Marco is loud, busy and packed full of people wishing to gaze upon history. Sweat drips down faces and the smell of sea water and dirt is evident. This alone is meant to deter just about any sane individual, but the architecture and the square is a sight to see and everyone is anxious for that perfect picture.
However, at night the square becomes calm as if slipping into a dream. Music is heard as people quietly murmur and sip wine. Soft tinkling of utensils indicates delicious food. This is the place to be. No pushing past crowds or straining to see sculptures and its details. The night is for conversing, good friends and reflection. The World Cup is discussed, but only briefly as not to upset any Italians, who wish to defend their broken hearts. But, they will get over their loss eventually as the blonde down the street wearing designer clothes walks past.
My own senses were heightened as I walked into to the square. The strong glow of the lights illuminated the looming structures as the music played by the "dueling orchestras" sprinkle the air with harmony. The songs played sound familiar and comforting. The violinist knows her craft, you can tell by the way she moves and rocks with the music. The people sitting at small tables listening are captivated. A time for people to recharge for the next day. It's a good night to be alive in Venice.
I noticed a short exchange between a woman and a small child at a water spigot...
The dialogue, I believe, is in Italian. Lots of facial expressions and tone of voice suggests anger, confusion, stess.
The woman I believe to be the young child's mother is asking her child to drink some water and wipe his face, but he does not want to. He gets upset each time she asks him to and eventually she gently forces him into the water. His face is priceless. It is one of shock, confusion and he basically he does not want to get wet.
Hi Lauren,
ReplyDeleteFirst, I love the visual design of your blog.
Very lovely, to match some of the writing I find above!
Your strong suit in this blog post rests in the paragraphs that begin "However, at night the square becomes calm..." and "My own senses were heightened..."
These paragraphs are lush description and creative use of phrasing that perfectly match the culture you observed.
My favorite writing passage is "The World Cup is discussed, but only briefly as not to upset any Italians, who wish to defend their broken hearts." Poetic and needing no further addendum.
Some suggestions:
1. Your blog has too broad of a focus, from the beginning. General observations about "something always going on in Venice" will not lure a reader or, ultimately, satisfy you, the storyteller.
In journalism, you need to narrow your storytelling to a fine point. You could have done that here by writing only of the World Cup outcome's affect on Italians, or - probably better - only about the change Piazza San Marco experiences from day to night.
2. Speaking of the piazza, make sure you get names and spellings right. Google while you write (I do).
3. You made a good stab at a scene. I like to see that - and kudos to you. It didn't, however, quite hit the mark. Describe the mother. How old is the child? Is his face red from the heat? Where did this happen exactly? What was the temperature? Add in these details and you come so much closer to a telling anecdotal scene.
Annie