Venice...

Never before have I been so overwhelmed. First there is the city magnificent and beautiful, I now fully understand why the Impressionist painted the way they did, it is the only way to do the city justice. Before going to Venice I had never known how air could have a presence aside from smog, now it is how I identify the city. It may be intangible but it is at the heart of the city. A snapshot of what it means to be a contemporary artist in a given country and the would is the Venice Biennale, this I knew but I was not prepared for the endurance needed. The endurance race of the Venice Biennale its self is equal to nothing. Each room has its own identity and it is as though the rooms will never end. With no windows I lost all sense of time, I became a pair of eyes moving form piece to piece, willing myself to give everything to each piece, how could I not? Eventually I made my way out of the labyrinth that is the Biennale only to find smaller shows from the participating countries. At this point I felt like jello I had already seen so much, I continued on. From here it is just a blur I was taken to the second half, the

Giardini, where I found even more rooms and more countries. Art on this scale is daunting, where do you start and once you do you better hope you know what you are getting yourself into.