Names are strange labels – some disappear on the wind, others lodge like shards of sunlight in the memory. I met such a name, one that lingers, in an apartment in an old palazzo in Naples, Italy.
The apartment belonged to Michael Aspinall, and the name was Serena Malfi.
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A look back (first published 7.1.16): Days without sunshine in Naples, Italy feel wrong … but when they pass the relief is like the burst of light at the end of an unexpected tunnel.
Vesuvius at the end of the Lungomare in Naples, Italy
When light bounces off the sea, then rises up through blue sky towards the sun it takes your heart with it … at least it does on the seafront in Naples, Italy. It’s impossible to resist, like a balloon freed by the breeze, up and up it goes.
Yesterday was one of those days.
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A look back (first published on 6 January 2016): Naples is not a ‘do-in-a-day-city’ – it’s a city with roots, a city that takes time, a city that feels like it might be time itself. Even Goethe lost his rhythm here.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (portrait by Stieler 1828)
There are names I heard at school that are still buried beneath teacher dust. Names I’ve never looked at again – unreachable, academic names. Goethe was one of them.
Then, a few weeks ago, I bumped into him on the internet and I read his notes on Naples. They were a happy find.
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The Phraser 