August 8, 2000

Greetings from Milan!

I arrived in town at 8:30 am, but the train to Pontremoli does not leave until 5:15 pm. What to do while I wait? Before I left NYC, my mom admonished me not to sleep in the park, which is what I usually do (it's dangerous, she said). I'm too jet-lagged to do any meaningful shopping, although I drop by La Rinascente to ask if the new Dante Oblimov line is on display yet. Never heard of him, a saleswoman tells me (she wonders if he's Italian -- she guesses he's not), but if it's something new then surely it will be available at La Rinascente. She assures me that the winter collection will be on display before the end of the month.

Across from La Rinascente is the Duomo, where I figure I can crawl into a pew in the back of one of the chapels and take a nap. It can't be dangerous to sleep in a cathedral.

The Duomo is a monstrous, over-decorated birthday cake of a building, with no surface left unetched, unsculpted, unscathed.

At right is a picture of one set of front doors, and below is a detail from the same door.

This detail shows the Annunciation, which is a much more dramatic way of finding out you're pregnant than a home E.P.T. kit. Mary's reaction is understandably one of fear and disbelief. After all, she was a virgin (the story goes), which would have made the appearance of a man in her bedroom alarming enough -- not to mention one with great big wings.

'Tis easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle ...

I didn't make it inside. I was in violation of too many of their rules. No shorts, no tank tops, no cameras. No phones, pets, ice-cream cones, balloons(?). No smoking, no hats, no nuthin'. No humans allowed. Go away. Go sleep in the park.

(no big breasts, no flat chests, no torsos unaccompanied by heads or legs)