8:30 a.m. My son has just finished giving his 17-year old cat her breakfast. Now he turns to his 96-year old mom before making his way upstairs to his computer studio via the spiral staircase that brings to mind an Austrian chalet and not an Italian farm house. The stairs reflect my father’s Germanic originsContinue reading “The Quick Brown Fox”
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Encounters
Fleeting encounters I remember, but do they? One never knows what life will hold in store. Throughout the years we cross paths with people of all kinds, for all kinds of reasons. Perhaps I was more likely to have a variety of encounters since I had a shop on the cathedral square, since the localContinue reading “Encounters”
Erika Bizzarri 