VENETIAN SATELLITE at Caffè Florian

What do a satellite and a Venetian café have in common?

A lot more than meets the eye. First, like all great works of art, they are both concerned with communication. In 1720, long before cell phones and email, news spread quickly and elegantly over coffee and drinks in Piazza San Marco at Caffè Florian. And in those days, it was the only café to admit women.

Clara the rhinoceros by Pietro Longhi, from 1751 (Ca' Rezzonico).

Everyone, if they're lucky, has a favorite painting. A work of art that is an expression of an incommunicable reality, which paradoxically communicates. A painting that pulls us back year after year, like an old friend. A painting we would steal if we could.

Bear, 2002. Murano Glass

September 10, 5:00AM. Morning fog in Venice heavier than usual. The boat passed the cemetery and then Murano, as I approached the airport for my return to New York. A turbulent flight. Approaching Newark, there was a fire called “suspicious”. We circled for more than one hour, then had to refuel at JFK. A violent thunderstorm grounded us for two hours. I arrived at Newark at 10PM, six hours late and home close to midnight.

September 11, 8:00AM. I awakened to a gorgeous, cobalt blue, cloudless New York City sky. The sun was bouncing off the Empire State Building. I was happy to be home.

8:35AM, as the espresso was rising in the pot, I heard a very low flying airplane pass my apartment building. There was a terrible sound as I felt my 52 story building tremble. My phone rang. It was my sister calling from Miami to tell me there had been an accident: a plane hit the World Trade Center.

Fragmented Peace

When Buddha was questioned if he was a celestial being or a god, or a magician or a man he replied, "No" to all of them. When asked what he was, Buddha replied, "I am awake."