Is it the restraint of love? Is it reverence? Amid the effervescent joy of buildings that look like music; the muscular formality of a 50-foot-high gate on an ancient wall; the fleeting intoxication of wafting jasmine: Why, exactly, amid these things, do I feel the contrary impulses to stop and snap an iPhoto yet not snap an iPhoto? It’s reverence is what it is, no? Reverential surrender...
On not taking pictures of extravagantly beautiful things, or Florence: Day 3
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