Exploring the Everglades

It's been ten years and one month since I spent time in the Everglades (unless you count driving on Alligator Alley). You might wonder how I can remember when I last visited with such clarity. The aswer is easy -- there's a blog for that! Yes, I've been at this writing thing for a long time. Somewhat surprisingly there weren't any repeat activities from my earlier adventure. The Everglades is a big place. 

Oscar and I started off with a kayak trip on the Turner River Paddling Trail in Ochopee. I was a little surprised when he said he'd booked a double kayak. I'm all for time together, but it could have been dicey. Fortunately, I've kayaked enough to feel comfortable with a paddle in my hands. The fact that we've had so little rain also worked in my favor. The water level was a full five inches lower than usual. So, had worse come to worst, we could have gotten out and walked and only gotten our calves wet. It also meant that I could literally dig in to move us forward on the very rare occasions I got us a bit, well, stuck. 

There was only one other couple on the trip, so it was easy to stay close to our guide. He shared all kinds of interesting information with us about our environment (which I immediately forgot as soon as we were on terra firma). What did stick with me was the number of gators in those waters. Just one look at this guy's smile tells you how friendly he was. Then again, he might have been smiling because he was contemplating how happy his next meal was going to make him... 

Here's a fun fact about gators that I hope I'll never experience firsthand. They're fast! They can swim up to 20 mph when they really need to get somewhere (like to a person who's fallen out of her kayak). Okay, that's speedy but not totally mindboggling. They are, after all, water animals. What seems crazy is that they can run up to 15 mph on their stubby little legs. Sure, they might only be able to move at that speed for about 30 feet, but I wouldn't want to test that limit. 

Kayaking of course isn't the only activity you can engage in in the Everglades. We also visited Fakahatchee Strand Preserve and walked the Big Cypress Bend Boardwalk. The walkway took us from a very nice Visitors' Center (indoor plumbing!) to a gator hole where we watched an anhinga valiantly try to swallow a fish. Periodically he would take a break and smash his prey on the ground. I don't know if this was out of frustration or to confirm that his lunch was dead. In any event, eating his prey wasn't a skill he had yet mastered, and after about ten minutes we left him to it. I listened for a cheer from the other onlookers when the bird finally got his meal to no avail. 

My favorite tree hands down was what I dubbed the hugging tree. Oscar called it the "Alien" tree, which turned out to be more accurate. My Google search for the "crazy looking tree on the Big Cypress Bend Boardwalk" revealed that the tree is a strangler fig and is often referred to as "The Claw." Strangler figs, as you may know, got their name because the fig tree grows from the top down, wrapping itself around its host (in this case a cypress tree) until it eventually suffocates it. Nature can be brutal. 

And now for some art. (You knew it was coming.) No trip to the area is complete without a visit to Clyde Butcher's studio. The exterior display was a bit less impactful than it might have been because Historic Spanish Point hosted an outdoor exhibit of Butcher's work a couple of years back. Still, the works were striking. It was fun to see the sites Butcher chose to post on the markers, from "Gators 346 meters" to "Ocala National Forest 329 miles" to "Amazon 2383 miles." 

In case you're wondering, the photograph is a closeup of St. Vincent Island Driftwood. The most likely spot to find the gnarled wood is St. Vincent Island, a National Wildlife Refuge on a barrier island near Apalachicola. The island's shores are often referred to as a "Boneyard Beach" because of the bleached color of the driftwood. I'd like to visit sometime. 

Butcher's studio features his large format black and white photographs. They are gorgeous, but I'd seen many of them before in various exhibits. So what I particularly enjoyed was the timeline -- complete with photographs of course -- of Butcher's life. 

Butcher got his first camera when he was just eight years old. His family enjoyed visiting national parks, and he got his start shooting the great outdoors there. Despite his fascination with photography, Butcher decided to pursue architecture as his career. It was just more practical. He combined the two fields in his senior thesis on the use of photography in the creation of architectural design. His resume as an architect includes working on the plans for the Transamerica Building in San Francisco. It wasn't until Butcher was in his 40s that he visited Big Cypress National Preserve with his camera in hand. The rest, as they say, is history. 

With that, our adventure in the Everglades came to an end. I highly recommend the area if you're interested in getting up close and personal with nature. Let me know if you're heading there for a swamp walk. It's an outing that's still on my bucket list. 

Harlan Coben Talks Books at the Love Our Libraries Luncheon

With Harlan Coben

Author Harlan Coben kicked off his appearance at the Love Our Libraries Luncheon by sharing that he became a reader at a young age. Not a huge surprise. But how that came about was a bit surprising. Coben's parents used their local library as a babysitter. I can just imagine them cheerily saying, "Honey, we're off to dinner. The library's open until 9 so we'll pick you up then." 

Luckily (for him and his readers), Coben enjoyed exploring the library's offerings. That early love of reading led to Coben becoming a Writer (capital "W" intended). As of last count, more than 90 million copies of his 35+ books have been published globally. His work has been translated into 46 languages. He's the first author to win the trifecta of Edgar, Shamus and Anthony awards. And there are a dozen adaptations of Coben's novels on Netflix, with more in the works. Color me impressed.

Coben with Emily Walsh from The Observer

Given how prolific Coben is, it wasn't surprising to learn that he writes a book a year. He said that, like childbirth, it takes about nine months start to finish. He also said that like childbirth (so he's heard), some days he feels like he's glowing and other days he feels like a load from a dump truck has landed on him. He's always glad when he finishes up his latest book. He noted that some writers say, "I miss the characters from [insert name of last novel here]." To that, Coben retorts, "Shut up!" By the time he's done writing and editing his latest work, he's more than ready to move on from the lives of the fictitious people with whom he's become intimately acquainted.

As you hopefully are gathering, Coben is an animated speaker, and he often used funny stories to illustrate his point. Take, for instance, an old text chain between his wife and daughter he used as an example of how you might employ dialogue as a means of creating character. 

Mom: "Why are you home?"
Daughter: "Stomach not feeling well."
Mom:  "Mine too. Diarrhea?"
Daughter: "Bye." 

That exchange gives you a pretty good sense of their dynamic, doesn't it? It also made me think about the hazards of living with a writer. I for one am glad I don't share space with someone who might use the random things that come out of my mouth as inspiration or dialogue. But I digress.

For the aspiring authors at the event, Coben noted that he teaches on online class about writing a thriller. He went on to share his three keys to writing a book -- inspiration, perspiration and desperation. For Coben, inspiration isn't only kicking around an idea. It's feeling a need to communicate that idea to other people. He finds it annoying when people say they write for themselves. Isn't that comparable to being satisfied talking to yourself? 

Perspiration is of course actually writing. Not writing an outline, not hanging out at Starbucks contemplating the plot, and definitively not whining about the project. Okay then. As for desperation, it's the feeling that he's not fit to do anything other than write. Surely he has other marketable skills? Nope (at least not in his mind). He said he'd be a duvet cover if he wasn't a writer. Hard to visualize, but I got the point.  

As the conversation neared its end, Coben threw out an offer to include the name of someone in the audience in his next novel in exchange for a $10,000 donation to the Library Foundation. He warned that there were no assurances as to what the context would be. He or she could be a minor character or a bad guy or the person who ends up dead. In other words, buyer beware. Nothwithstanding the warning, it took less than a minute before a hand went up. I wish I'd gotten the woman's name to look for in his next book. 

Thanks to the Library Foundation for bringing another terrific author to its annual luncheon. It was great fun for a great cause. Support your local library! 

 

"The Elements" by John Boyne

John Boyne's "The Elements" is the most intense book I've read in a long time. It's comprised of four linked novellas that deal with the issue of sexual abuse from different perspectives -- an enabler, a complicit observer, a perpetrator and a victim. Each story is powerful on its own; reading the four together is a literary experience. Warning: Reading on will divulge the basic plotline of each story, so you might want to stop here if you already think this is a book for you. 

"Water" tells the story of Vanessa, a woman who's fled her life in Dublin following the revelation that her husband, director of Ireland's National Swimming Federation, sexually abused young people who participated in the Federation's programs. Learning about her husband's actions was not only shocking; she has been accused of being complicit. Could she have been? Upon arriving at her new island home, she changes both her name and her appearance in hopes of not being recognized. Will the island to which she's escaped provide a refuge?  

"Earth" turns to the story of Evan, a professional soccer player who was witness to a sexual assault involving a teammate. Evan happens to be from the same island to which Vanessa has relocated, which is the first connection. A careful reader will be rewarded when they discover how the two characters' paths crossed. The question of Evan's culpability in his role as a witness leads to his being a defendant in the trial. 

"Fire" was, to me, the most shocking of the stories. Freya, a respected surgeon, is also a sexual predator. One of Freya's connection to the previous characters is having served on the jury for Evan's trial. Her intern Aaron just happens to be married to Vanessa's daughter. (Ireland is apparently an even smaller world than I have imagined.) We learn at the outset that Freya was kidnapped, raped and buried alive when she was 12 years old. Does this incident contribute to/excuse her behavior in some way? That little tidbit is not, however, the most shocking revelation in this story. 

And, finally, there's "Air." Aaron and Rebecca (Vanessa's daughter) are now divorced, and he's taking their son Emmet to Australia for a visit. As the novel's characters converge, we find out how they have fared over time. It is a wholly satisfying ending to the most impactful reading experience I can remember. 

"The Elements" is not a book for everyone due to its themes and intensity. But if your interest is piqued, I urge you to give it a try. I'm looking forward to reading more by this author, who also wrote "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas" and "The Heart's Invisible Furies." For Boyne's website, click here. And for an article he wrote about being abused himself, click here. 

Embracing Our Differences Exhibit at Bayfront Park

Bayfront Park is now home to the 23rd Annual Embracing Our Differences Outdoor Exhibition Celebrating Kindness, Respect & Inclusion. Has there ever been a time when we've needed this exhibit more? While it was chilly the day we visited, it was heartwarming to see families and friends taking in the art and considering the quotes that accompany the images. I know, a bit syrupy, but I'm taking full advantage of feel good experiences when I find them. 

If you haven't visited the exhibit in the past, here's how it works. People from around the world submit a work of art or a quote for consideration by the Embracing Our Differences team. It's not an easy task to make the selections. This year the committee had to winnow 14,904 submissions down to the 50 works of art and 50 quotes featured in the exhibit. The number is a bit mindboggling, as is the fact that those submissions came from 48 states, 125 countries and 574 schools. I particularly like the thought of all those school kids focusing on how to depict these values. 

Case in point. "All" (pictured above) was submitted by K-5 students from Gene Witt Elementary School in Sarasota. The artist statement says, in part, "When we created this piece, we focused on how each of us is unique and wonderful...Our differences are what makes life so much more interesting for 'All' of us." The accompanying quote was submitted by Melinda Nguyen from Virginia and reads, "They can take your possessions, one by one, but your knowledge and education can't be undone."

I was curious to find out what "I Ain't Chicken of Differences" was about when I saw the image from a distance. The eagle and the duck are not to be outdone by the chicken's declaration and proclaim/ask, respectively, "Differences Make No Difference" and "What's the Difference?" Good points all around. This work was submitted by Jeff Whipple of Jacksonville, Florida. The related quote reads, "Embracing differences means choosing curiosity over judgment and connection over fear." These wise words were submitted by Alexander Haxjiaj, a 10th grader at Pine View School in Osprey. I like it. 

I toured the exhibit with my decades-long friend Suzanne who tandem bikes with her husband. (That says a lot about their marriage.) Given that, it's no surprise that "Pedaling as One" jumped out at us with the people of differing ages and colors moving together to reach their destination. What a concept. 

The art was submitted by Yunnie Ha, a 10th grader in Seoul, Korea. Bad on me, but I hadn't noticed until I read her artist statement that the bicycle wheels are different colors of the rainbow. They represent diversity, movement and unity. She goes on to describe her work as "a visual reminder that harmony is not about being the same -- it is about pedaling together with a shared purpose." The related quote is from Knushi Kumari, a 9th grader in Arrah, India. It reads, "Let compassion be the compass that guides us through the landscapes of our differences." 

I'll leave you with a work I'm a little surprised made it into the show. It's probably my favorite. "Same ___, Different Colors" was submitted by Zdravko Barisic from Serbia. His artist statement notes that our feelings about our differences -- be it skin color, lifestyle or social position -- are shaped by social constructs. He goes on to make the highly radical statement that "You may not like someone's way of life, but you should respect it." 

The quote accompanying this work reads, "Respect doesn't require agreement. It only asks that we recognize each other's humanity." This submission came from Devdaan Lobo, an 11th grader at Pine View School. You might have noticed that this is the second Pine View student whose quote I've included. There are more. Kudos to those teachers and students for their participation in the project. 

As always, I left the Embracing Our Differences exhibit feeling a bit better about our world. I suspect I'll be visiting several times before it closes on April 19th. Free tours are offered on Saturdays at 10 a.m. And if you happen to be in St. Petersburg, the exhibit will also be on display there from March 7th-April 12th. To see some of the past year's works that have caught my eye, click here. And for more information on Embracing Our Differences, click here. 

"Tamara de Lempicka" at the Baker Museum of Art

"The Girls" (1930)

I vividly remember the first time I saw a Tamara de Lempicka painting. It wasn't even an original. The Visual Arts Center in Punta Gorda hosted an annual Fine Arts Festival in which the work of an artist or a period was celebrated. Art Deco was the theme one year, and a member artist recreated a work by de Lempicka. The painting was so striking that I can visualize where it was situated in the exhibit. That's an artist with a distinctive style (and kudos to our local artist for creating such a strong replica). Given this brush with de Lempicka's work, it's no surprise I enjoyed seeing an entire exhibit featuring her art. 

The introduction to the exhibit explains de Lempicka's art this way. "With paintings exuding stylized modernity and sapphic sensuality, de Lempicka helped define the Art Deco aesthetic...Her powerful portraits of male and female lovers and patrons challenged gender norms and encapsulated the glamour, transgression and cosmopolitan effervescence [of Paris] ... between the wars." Whoa. Her style is also sometimes referred to as "soft Cubism," a term I haven't previously heard. Think the fragmentation of Picasso but in a much, well, softer way. 

"The Girls" is a terrific example of a de Lempicka painting. The women's eyes make me think of a cat basking in the sun. An elaborate scarf flows from the neck of the woman on the left in a way that covers the chest of her companion, who appears to be otherwise undressed. This detail, along with the way the women are situated, indicates to me a sense of possession by the woman who wears the scarf. I have no idea if that's accurate, but I do know there's a story waiting to be told.

"Young Girl in Pink (Kizette in Pink II)" (1928-29)

Then there's this painting by de Lempicka of a coquettish young girl who calls Lolita to mind. Am I the only one disturbed to learn this is a portrait of the artist's daughter? Time for some background.

De Lempicka was just 18 years old when she gave birth to her daughter Kizette. (Tamara was married, but Kizette's birth came less than the requisite nine months after the vows. Just establishing the context.) Being so young, de Lempicka was not ready to be a mother. And so her daughter attended boarding school and was otherwise raised primarily by family members. In this way, de Lempicka limited the the obligations of motherhood. 

When they were actually together, Tamara's feelings about their relationship was quite clear. She often introduced Kizette as her younger sister rather than her daughter. Wow. How much therapy did that kid require? Still, Kizette was one of de Lempicka's most frequent sitters for her paintings. As in this work, the girl is often shown wearing only one shoe. This choice was apparently intended to create a sense of youth and vulnerability. Perhaps Kizette needed a bit more mothering.

"Her Sadness" depicts Ira Perrot (1923)

Now for some of de Lempicka's backstory. She grew up in Russia where she met Teduesz Lempicki, her first husband. (She adopted the more feminine "Lempicka" as her last name and added the "de" for good measure, perhaps in hopes of being associated with nobility.)  After fleeing to Paris following the October Revolution, de Lempicka came into her own. She enjoyed the social circle in which she found herself and the laissez-faire attitudes of Paris at that time. Her husband, not so much. He didn't approve of her affairs (with men and women) or her use of cocaine. He didn't join her on her nights out at the clubs. And he didn't appreciate listening to Richard Wagner at full volume while she painted. Her reputation as an artist was on the rise but her marriage was in trouble. What to do? 

De Lempicka was nothing if not enterprising. And so she found a new husband who was open to her lifestyle. He also just happened to be a baron. (She had known adding that "de" would come in handy one day.) The poet Ira Perrot became the artist's most significant lover. The pair frequented the salons of the day with the likes of Gertrude Stein and Anais Nin. Perrot also became de Lempicka's muse, and the artist created numerous paintings and drawings of her lover. "Her Sadness" is one example. 

The pair parted when the Baron and Baroness moved to California shortly before the outbreak of World War II. Shockingly (not), Tamara became part of the Hollywood scene. She set her art aside, focusing instead on being the hostess with the mostest. Her work fell out of favor as figurative work -- even portraiture as striking as de Lempicka's -- gave way to the Abstract Expressionist movement. The world was a chaotic place, and the work of artists like Jackson Pollock and Willem de Kooning captured that chaos. 

De Lempicka at work 

Fast forward to the 1970s when de Lempicka was rediscovered. It probably won't surprise you to learn that Madonna is one of de Lempicka's biggest collectors. This NY Times article about the artist begins, "Before Madonna strapped on her funnel-breasted bustier and called it feminism, there was the painter Tamara de Lempicka." I love it, and I bet de Lempicka would have too. Click here to see Madonna's video for "Vogue" with de Lempicka paintings in the background. And for a great short video about the artist, click here. 

And just to circle back, the painting I saw at the Visual Arts Center years ago de Lempicka's "Autoportrait (Tamara in a Green Bugati)." To see that work, along with another portrait of Kizette and a photo of de Lempicka with Salvador Dali (no shock there), click here. 

Thanks to the Baker Museum for giving me the opportunity to dig into the work of this fascinating artist. My life seems so tame by comparison (and that's just the way I like it.) "Tamara de Lempicka" continues only through February 8th, so time is short to see this show. Don't miss it if you're in the area. For more information, click here.

Paula McLain talks "Skylark" at Copperfish Books

It was a delight to hear Paula McLain speak at Copperfish Books about her new novel "Skylark." Literally, that was the first thing I wrote in my notes about the event -- "delightful." McLain signed books before and after her talk, taking the time to engage with every reader. She was exuberant, despite being in the midst of seven events across the state over seven days. I had no sense that she was telling stories she's surely already shared dozens of times over the last few weeks. That is passion. 

McLain started off with a confession/humble brag. When she wrote her bestselling book "The Paris Wife," she had never been to Paris. How could she possibly have gone? She had three young kids, three part-time jobs and a full-time husband with a job of his own. She made up for this by visiting the City of Lights six times in connection with "Skylark." Some of those visits took place when she was looking for ideas for a new book. "It was like being on the cusp of a love affair," she said. "At any moment, I felt like I might meet the one." She eventually did. 

McLain had never wanted to write a WWII story. Other slices of history called to her. Until, that was, she learned about two doctors working at a psychiatric hospital during the War. While walking around the building one day, they discovered a locked gate that led to some underground tunnels. They picked the lock, began exploring and, eventually, mapped the area. Long story short but thanks to their maps, the Resistance was able to operate beneath the city, establishing not only secret ways to move around Paris but meeting spots and even a headquarters. Fun fact: One of the doctors -- Jean Talairach -- later became one of the first neuroscientists to map the brain. 

McLain credited an episode about Robert McFarlane's "Underland" on the "On Being" podcast with introducing her to this story. She also learned about cataphiles, urban explorers who illegally traverse portions of the catacombs that are not open to the public, sometimes with others in tow. "Hmm," she thought. "That sounds like something I should do." And so she did. This is a woman after my own heart.  

She met her guide -- code name "La Segal" -- on a street corner. She had been instructed to bring her passport "in case they got arrested." He looked like an aging pirate. (Sadly, I couldn't find a picture of them together.) They entered the tunnels through a manhole and climbed down four ladders, ending up 65 feet beneath the city. The floors were clay and the tunnels were dark and narrrow -- between five and eight feet wide. It was equal parts daunting and thrilling. 

As they explored, McLain saw writing on the tunnel walls -- messages and drawings from the past. She became captivated by thoughts of the Parisian people who used these tunnels in their fight against the Nazis. The idea for her next book had arrived, as had the cover art. The red Liberty Bird on the cover of "Skylark" comes from images of birds in the tunnels whose beaks pointed the way to safety. I love it. To dig into this subject a bit more, click here for a documentary on the tunnels. 

McLain and readers at Copperfish Books - "Now we're all friends," she declared.

And now a bit about the book. "Skylark" has a split timeline, shifting between the stories of Alouette and Kristof. Alouette lives in 17th century Paris and is the daughter of a master dye maker who is perfecting red dye. It was a time when sumptuary restrictions prohibited all but the highest class of Parisian from wearing the color red. Life for those in the lower classes was a colorless existence. Alouette pushes against these limitations. Beauty and survival are synonymous to the young woman.

Fast forward to WWII Paris where Kristof is a doctor in a psychiatric hospital navigating life under the Nazi regime. His home is in the same building Alouette and her family lived in centuries earlier. His neighbors are a Jewish family who have fled Poland in hopes of finding safety. When the Nazis descend upon Paris, they look to Kristof to help them survive. 

It's an interesting set up, and I'm eager to learn how the tunnels come into play in both stories. To see Paula talk about her book on Good Morning, America, click here. I consider myself fortunate to have heard from her in person. Thanks to Copperfish Books for providing the opportunity. 

For more on McLain and "Skylark," click here. Support your local indie bookstore! 

Uncovering Ca' d'Zan -- Private Spaces Tour

Ca' d'Zan

John Ringling is one of the most significant figures in Sarasota's history. After all, Ringling's decision to move the winter headquarters of his circus to Sarasota is one reason our city became such a popular destination.

Ringling of course needed a home that equated with his position in society. Friends and colleagues from northern climes would be visiting, and he wanted to entertain them in style. And so he built Ca' d'Zan or "the House of John." (It was also the House of Mabel, but she was just the wife. Fun fact: Ringling listed his occupation on their marriage certificate as "capitalist." But I digress.) 

The 36,000 square foot Mediterranean Revival-style home has 56 rooms, including a ballroom and a solarium. There's an elevator for people who couldn't climb the stairs and an intercom system through which the Ringlings and their guests could alert staff to their needs. (Cue the music for "Downton Abbey.") The estate sits on Sarasota Bay, all the better for guests who wanted to arrive by water. 

This wasn't my first visit to Ca' d'Zan. Many years ago, I went on a tour of the mansion's public spaces. Surprise, surprise, but my favorite part of the tour was seeing the art. Dancing couples from around the world are featured on the ceiling of the ballroom, compliments of artist Willy Pogany. For a great video of the works, click here. The Private Spaces tour allows visitors to see some of the rooms on the upper floors of the mansion, including a "play room" that features Pogany's work on both the ceiling and the columns. 

For this project, Pogany created works depicting a Venetian carnival. This whimsical painting of John and Mabel can be seen on the ceiling. It made me wonder if John played the guitar. The answer is yes! (Actually, it was a bass viol, which explains the smallish size of the instrument.) Before the days of the circus, John and four of his brothers toured as a vaudeville show. Who knew? For more fun facts about Ringling, click here. Now back to our tour.  

Notwithstanding the fact that Ca' d'Zan was built smack dab in the middle of Prohibition, the home featured a taproom where John could share his private label bourbon with guests. The room wasn't original to Ca' d'Zan. When dining at the Cicardi Winter Garden Restaurant in St. Louis, Ringling was taken with the setting. "Ah," he thought. "This would be perfect for my new home in Florida." So he bought the room lock, stock and barrel, had it dismantled, put on a train and reinstalled in Ca' d'Zan. I suspect many a business deal was done there. 

Per the title of the tour, we also tromped through some of the more private spaces in the house. John's bedroom overlooked the Bay while Mabel's had a view of her rose garden. Perhaps not surprisingly, the word "comfortable" does not came to mind. I imagined myself lying on one of the beds ramrod straight so as not to muss the covers. If you click here for a picture of John's bedroom, you'll see what I mean. The painting at which he gazed when having trouble sleeping is "Dawn Driving Away the Darkness" by Jacob de Wit. The title makes me wonder what demons Ringling contemplated during the night. 

While very glitzy, the bathrooms are not what I would call inviting. I can only imagine how cold those marble floors could get. (We do get some chilly weather here, after all.) 

Each bathtub was carved from a single piece of marble and featured four faucets. Bathers could choose hot or cold fresh or salt water. In case you're wondering, the benefits of soaking in salt water include relief from soreness and lower stress levels. The mansion also had an exercise room that featured a massage table and a Vibrating Belt Machine. (Think "I Love Lucy.") Perhaps John enjoyed a cold salt water plunge after his work out. 

I'll leave you with a view from Belvedere Tower, the crowning glory of Ca' d'Zan. Ringling claimed that the best view of Sarasota from his 81' tower. (Not coincidentally, "Belvedere" means "beautiful view" in Italian.) Today many buildings here offer similar vistas, but it's still quite impressive. 

Once again, I neglected to ask the question that came to mind when I looked at my pictures. Why are there sculptures of squirrels on the cupolas? Was it just a random choice of the architect? Probably not. A little research (thanks, Google!) revealed that squirrels are typically considered a symbol of abundance, resourcefulness and foresight with a dash of playfulness thrown in for good measure. Another interpretation views them as greedy, likely due to the way they grasp their acorns to their little chests. I suspect that Ringling had a bit of all those traits. 

With that, our time in the Ca' d'Zan's private spaces was over. It was fun to take a peek into the way the Ringlings lived, but I was more than happy to return to my own much cozier abode. For more on Ca' d'Zan, click here. And to book your own tour of these spaces, click here. Happy explorations!