The Museo Civico Gaetano Filangieri in Naples, Italy
The best treasure comes in chests, compact and crowded, that brim with what’s been most precious … and there should always be scars.
The Museo Filangieri is a chest like this.
View from above Positano on the Amalfi Coast, Italy
Some places fill the mind with light, draw us like moths towards their flame … and as we arrive in our thousands the chaos from our wingbeats pushes outwards.
The Amalfi Coast, rippled turquoise, with emerald light and wilderness, is one such flame; and I feel like a vandal every time I visit by car.
Large tile mural by the entrance to Industria Ceramica Avallone in Vietri sul Mare
“No – no foto!” The small, elderly woman hustled through the piled plates towards us.
“Non posso fare …?” My bad Italian faltered.
“No!” Her finger flicked sternly from side to side as she halted in front of us, dark eyes flashing with suspicion.
“Who are you?” The slow English syllables were weighted with menace.
The Phraser 