Another Biennale has come and past. Another year where the best we have to offer as a Race is on display, and as usual that means the Israeli Pavilion and the Venetian Pavilion in the gardens steal the show... But aside from a photo art-chive of my trip through the maze, I wanted to digress a bit. There is an impression that borders on expressionism that Venice leaves with you, like the smokey aroma of a campfire on ones clothes. Venice seems so familiar and so alien. It welcomes and makes you wonder, lost in it's reflections and light, still yet dancing, never a straight line, you happily get lost in an urban language you knew before you learned it. This place changes as each moment passes, but despite the cries that it is sinking you might not believe it as timelessness begets time. You just might not care that you're lost in it as it saturates all you know. More to follow.
