After the clerk checks your ticket and opens a massive door for you to enter, enchantment unfolds. You know you are in a special, breathtakingly beautiful place. And you are not alone. Your gasp of astonishment harmonizes with the collective one of all who traverses the threshold. The next moment, an expansive “library room,” stretching nearly 80 meters, rises 20 meters above your head, slowly unveiling its grandeur. Soft, dignified light embraces colossal, ornate wooden bookcases guarded by giant mobile ladders. Marble columns topped with gilded artistry hold this baroque jewel that is crowned at its centre by a magnificent dome and numerous frescos around. 
The books in this library aren’t the sole protagonists; approximately 16 statues and 12 busts of the Austro-Spanish Habsburg family, carved in marble stand around the room. Emperor Charles VI’s “Hercules Musarum” statue is prominently positioned beneath the dome, surrounded by four magnificent celestial and terrestrial Venetian globes. It is a journey back to the glory of the Habsburg, who were passionate collectors of books and manuscripts. 

The Prunksaal, the central structure of the old imperial library (State Hall in English), resides at the heart of the city as part of Vienna’s Imperial Palace. In 1723, Emperor Charles VI commissioned architect Johann Bernhard Fischer von Erlach, famous for his work on Schonbrunn Palace, to construct the Court Library. This collaboration led to the creation of one of the world’s most beautiful library rooms and Europe’s largest Baroque Library house.  

As a passionate admirer of books and art, I effortlessly lost myself in a magical realm of words, knowledge, culture, artistry and aesthetics. 
I could easily spend an hour only gazing at the incredibly detailed ceiling paintings of the apotheosis of the Emperor by court painter Daniel Gran. He worked four years on them. I could marvel for hours at the 128 historic bookshelves and cabinets, containing 200,000 leather-bound tomes, which I could only imagine, encompass ancient philosophy, history, mythology, manuscripts, musical scores, atlases, and maps—a treasure trove of European intellectual heritage and culture. While these fragile and precious books can’t be read on-site, glass display cabinets showcase rarities from the library collection and artifacts linked to the ongoing exhibition in the Prunksaal. The hall is thoughtfully divided into 'war' and 'peace' sides, echoing the original arrangement of the books, as depicted in the wall frescoes.
Indeed, the visit might be a quick run-through since it is just one elongated room. I chose not to rush through. Even though I stepped into the library late in the day, I took the time to savour all the splendour this place has to offer right until a voice reminded all the visitors that it was time to bid farewell. 

Amidst the vast knowledge within this magnificent hall, an awestruck silence is demanded. 
The library’s solemn atmosphere creates both a sense of privilege and connection. As I sat on the chair in genuine admiration, it was just me, my camera and the rich history of human enlightenment. The people in the hall suddenly disappeared as I quieted down in the middle of centuries-old words and ideas that have been navigating the world, serving as "gates to the future."

Who would dare disrupt the peace of these books, mastery and timeless beauty?


(click on each image to see it in detail) 


When in Vienna, I highly recommend spending time in The Austrian National Library. 
If you have already been, please share your experience in the comment section. 




STATE HALL OF THE AUSTRIAN NATIONAL LIBRARY

Address:
Josefsplatz 1
1010 Vienna 

Website:

State Hall of the Austrian National Library



After the clerk checks your ticket and opens a massive door for you to enter, enchantment unfolds. You know you are in a special, breathtakingly beautiful place. And you are not alone. Your gasp of astonishment harmonizes with the collective one of all who traverses the threshold. The next moment, an expansive “library room,” stretching nearly 80 meters, rises 20 meters above your head, slowly unveiling its grandeur. Soft, dignified light embraces colossal, ornate wooden bookcases guarded by giant mobile ladders. Marble columns topped with gilded artistry hold this baroque jewel that is crowned at its centre by a magnificent dome and numerous frescos around. 
The books in this library aren’t the sole protagonists; approximately 16 statues and 12 busts of the Austro-Spanish Habsburg family, carved in marble stand around the room. Emperor Charles VI’s “Hercules Musarum” statue is prominently positioned beneath the dome, surrounded by four magnificent celestial and terrestrial Venetian globes. It is a journey back to the glory of the Habsburg, who were passionate collectors of books and manuscripts. 

The Prunksaal, the central structure of the old imperial library (State Hall in English), resides at the heart of the city as part of Vienna’s Imperial Palace. In 1723, Emperor Charles VI commissioned architect Johann Bernhard Fischer von Erlach, famous for his work on Schonbrunn Palace, to construct the Court Library. This collaboration led to the creation of one of the world’s most beautiful library rooms and Europe’s largest Baroque Library house.  

As a passionate admirer of books and art, I effortlessly lost myself in a magical realm of words, knowledge, culture, artistry and aesthetics. 
I could easily spend an hour only gazing at the incredibly detailed ceiling paintings of the apotheosis of the Emperor by court painter Daniel Gran. He worked four years on them. I could marvel for hours at the 128 historic bookshelves and cabinets, containing 200,000 leather-bound tomes, which I could only imagine, encompass ancient philosophy, history, mythology, manuscripts, musical scores, atlases, and maps—a treasure trove of European intellectual heritage and culture. While these fragile and precious books can’t be read on-site, glass display cabinets showcase rarities from the library collection and artifacts linked to the ongoing exhibition in the Prunksaal. The hall is thoughtfully divided into 'war' and 'peace' sides, echoing the original arrangement of the books, as depicted in the wall frescoes.
Indeed, the visit might be a quick run-through since it is just one elongated room. I chose not to rush through. Even though I stepped into the library late in the day, I took the time to savour all the splendour this place has to offer right until a voice reminded all the visitors that it was time to bid farewell. 

Amidst the vast knowledge within this magnificent hall, an awestruck silence is demanded. 
The library’s solemn atmosphere creates both a sense of privilege and connection. As I sat on the chair in genuine admiration, it was just me, my camera and the rich history of human enlightenment. The people in the hall suddenly disappeared as I quieted down in the middle of centuries-old words and ideas that have been navigating the world, serving as "gates to the future."

Who would dare disrupt the peace of these books, mastery and timeless beauty?


(click on each image to see it in detail) 


When in Vienna, I highly recommend spending time in The Austrian National Library. 
If you have already been, please share your experience in the comment section. 




STATE HALL OF THE AUSTRIAN NATIONAL LIBRARY

Address:
Josefsplatz 1
1010 Vienna 

Website:


I Worried 

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers 
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn as it was taught, and if not how shall I correct it?
Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven, 
can I do better? 
Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows can do it and I am, well, hopeless. 
Is my eyesight fading or am I just imaging it, am I going to get rheumatism, lockjaw, dementia?
Finally I saw that worrying had come to 
nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang. 
                                                                                                                                                          ~ Mary Oliver



It is unusually difficult for me to write in these increasingly complex and uncertain times we are all living in. My thoughts are messy. Emotions are messy. The truth is messy.  
I worry. I worry about my health, the safety of those I love, am I a good enough mom, friend, wife, daughter, citizen... Am I able to keep my ego in check? How is the world facing the challenges most of which we humans have created by ourselves? I worry about the flawed human reasoning and the growing lack of basic critical thinking. What kind of Earth will our children inherit? 
But then, I breathe out. Breathing out is calming. It encourages peace and insight. It helps me pay attention to my surrounding, reminding me that even in troubling times, there is beauty, kindness and joy in the world. 

I step outside and a tapestry of beautiful autumnal leaves hugs my walking feet. I walk forward with each footfall placing distance between me and the world of news stream, social media and phone calls. The seasons are changing. And the more I contemplate the changes, the more I grow appreciative of all the autumnal wisdom and generosity that pour unrestrictedly through me.  
Light.
Darkness.
A balance. 
Letting go.
Fleeting nature of all things...

Autumn tucks acorns in my pockets and faded hydrangeas in my arms. Autumn blows a fresh breeze in my eyes and puts a pumpkin-carved-like smile on my face. Autumn fills my kitchen with the smell of baked pears and my heart with a desire to create. 
The calming power of the natural world makes me tune in to my senses, slow down and pause. I am fully in this moment. The clutter of my mind begins to withdraw. The negative inner conversations switch off. There is nothing but the sounds of the season, the bounty of autumn, the simple beauty of small things, the whisper of simple everyday rituals, the comfort of home, the awakening of hope...

I am at home. I arrange a foraged bouquet in a vase, cook pumpkin soup and take a long warm bath. I light a candle, turn up the music, drift away in the calmness of dolche far niente to find my own STILL in the chaos of life. I am breathing out. 








Still Life


I Worried 

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers 
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn as it was taught, and if not how shall I correct it?
Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven, 
can I do better? 
Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows can do it and I am, well, hopeless. 
Is my eyesight fading or am I just imaging it, am I going to get rheumatism, lockjaw, dementia?
Finally I saw that worrying had come to 
nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang. 
                                                                                                                                                          ~ Mary Oliver



It is unusually difficult for me to write in these increasingly complex and uncertain times we are all living in. My thoughts are messy. Emotions are messy. The truth is messy.  
I worry. I worry about my health, the safety of those I love, am I a good enough mom, friend, wife, daughter, citizen... Am I able to keep my ego in check? How is the world facing the challenges most of which we humans have created by ourselves? I worry about the flawed human reasoning and the growing lack of basic critical thinking. What kind of Earth will our children inherit? 
But then, I breathe out. Breathing out is calming. It encourages peace and insight. It helps me pay attention to my surrounding, reminding me that even in troubling times, there is beauty, kindness and joy in the world. 

I step outside and a tapestry of beautiful autumnal leaves hugs my walking feet. I walk forward with each footfall placing distance between me and the world of news stream, social media and phone calls. The seasons are changing. And the more I contemplate the changes, the more I grow appreciative of all the autumnal wisdom and generosity that pour unrestrictedly through me.  
Light.
Darkness.
A balance. 
Letting go.
Fleeting nature of all things...

Autumn tucks acorns in my pockets and faded hydrangeas in my arms. Autumn blows a fresh breeze in my eyes and puts a pumpkin-carved-like smile on my face. Autumn fills my kitchen with the smell of baked pears and my heart with a desire to create. 
The calming power of the natural world makes me tune in to my senses, slow down and pause. I am fully in this moment. The clutter of my mind begins to withdraw. The negative inner conversations switch off. There is nothing but the sounds of the season, the bounty of autumn, the simple beauty of small things, the whisper of simple everyday rituals, the comfort of home, the awakening of hope...

I am at home. I arrange a foraged bouquet in a vase, cook pumpkin soup and take a long warm bath. I light a candle, turn up the music, drift away in the calmness of dolche far niente to find my own STILL in the chaos of life. I am breathing out. 










"Autumn suits you perfectly," a friend of mine wrote to me the other day when she saw photos from my everyday walks into the woods. Since the beginning of the season, I can't get enough of the simple beauty that surrounds me wherever I go – from the gorgeous golden colours of the leaves to the perfectly shaped, raised from seeds, ready to be picked squashes in the garden. The seasons change so effortlessly, without prompting, that if I am not paying close attention, I might overlook all the wisdom the Earth is offering to me each and every moment. 
I believe no other season teaches us so many profound lessons about life than fall does. And as I approach into a deeper season in my own life, I believe Autumn is my season. 
Knowing that each season is a journey of change and personal growth in preparation for another season in life, I feel that now I am right here where I would like to be, willingly trusting and appreciating the experience of the moment, letting life be life. 
I love the autumnal gentleness in the air, those misty rainy days when I can sit at home and watch the pearls of raindrops caught on golden leaves shining like crystals on the poetic light, unafraid of falling. A book in my hands. A blanket over my feet. An aroma of sage and butternut puree from the kitchen. A feeling of being warm, comforted, calm and sheltered. There is real beauty in ordinary life, in taking the living slowly and making space for the change.
In a wonderful essay, The Beauty Of the Ordinary, Pico Iyer reminds us of the autumn's special, golden lesson – "to cherish everything because it cannot last". "Autumn days," he writes, "are reminders of how much we cannot afford to take for granted, and how much there is to celebrate right now."
The older I get, the more I am in tune with this wise, golden, ordinary Autumn. 
I am completely open to the enduring lessons of the falling leaf. To learn humility and resilience from its ending. To cultivate an attitude of respect and gratitude. To see the magic in the little things. To stay whimsical and ordinary at the same time... 
In nature's timeless forms, I contemplate that nothing lasts forever and perhaps, the art of life lies in its ephemerality. 
I find that liberating. 




Golden Autumn



"Autumn suits you perfectly," a friend of mine wrote to me the other day when she saw photos from my everyday walks into the woods. Since the beginning of the season, I can't get enough of the simple beauty that surrounds me wherever I go – from the gorgeous golden colours of the leaves to the perfectly shaped, raised from seeds, ready to be picked squashes in the garden. The seasons change so effortlessly, without prompting, that if I am not paying close attention, I might overlook all the wisdom the Earth is offering to me each and every moment. 
I believe no other season teaches us so many profound lessons about life than fall does. And as I approach into a deeper season in my own life, I believe Autumn is my season. 
Knowing that each season is a journey of change and personal growth in preparation for another season in life, I feel that now I am right here where I would like to be, willingly trusting and appreciating the experience of the moment, letting life be life. 
I love the autumnal gentleness in the air, those misty rainy days when I can sit at home and watch the pearls of raindrops caught on golden leaves shining like crystals on the poetic light, unafraid of falling. A book in my hands. A blanket over my feet. An aroma of sage and butternut puree from the kitchen. A feeling of being warm, comforted, calm and sheltered. There is real beauty in ordinary life, in taking the living slowly and making space for the change.
In a wonderful essay, The Beauty Of the Ordinary, Pico Iyer reminds us of the autumn's special, golden lesson – "to cherish everything because it cannot last". "Autumn days," he writes, "are reminders of how much we cannot afford to take for granted, and how much there is to celebrate right now."
The older I get, the more I am in tune with this wise, golden, ordinary Autumn. 
I am completely open to the enduring lessons of the falling leaf. To learn humility and resilience from its ending. To cultivate an attitude of respect and gratitude. To see the magic in the little things. To stay whimsical and ordinary at the same time... 
In nature's timeless forms, I contemplate that nothing lasts forever and perhaps, the art of life lies in its ephemerality. 
I find that liberating. 




Rome is L O V E.
Not just because of the fact that if you spell the Italian word for Rome, "Roma" backwards, you will find "Amor" – meaning Love, but rather because of the fact that Rome is sure to cast a spell on you the minute you take your first steps on the city's winding cobblestone alleys. Gathering energy from ruins and relics of its past, from the splendor of its art, churches, and culture along with the glory of its cuisine and coffee, Rome possesses this powerful force in the Universe to make you look at it with the glistening eyes of a lover, eventually winning your love forever.  

I know that one man's Rome is not necessarily another's. 

My Rome is the one shining in the rising sun. If I am eager enough to get up early in the morning, it will reward me with the warm embrace of empty bridges, fragrant bakeries, and fresh laundries. I love to walk until my feet kill me and I can go no further. Lost somewhere among the maze-like cobblestones, I will then relax over the best espresso in the world in a café standing elbow-to-elbow with locals. I will then resume. Because in Rome, there is always a door of a newly discovered church to open with who-knows-what exquisite art or architecture within. There is always a little trattoria with the most delicious creamy pasta cacio e pepe to enjoy on a red checkered tablecloth. Or a gelateria with who-knows-what kind of dreamy flavorful ice cream to try. Or a fresh food market with seasonal produce and happy vendors, unveiling a true cultural experience of the Italian way of life... This city begs to be uncovered at every corner with happy accidents of everyday simple beauty.  

My Rome is the one that possesses the most beautiful old walls coated with every stunning shade of ochre, rust, and terracotta. From the hues of the ancient gold, through the earth tones of the clay pots, to the color of the dark coffee crema, Roman buildings are a visual feast for an artistic eye. In fact, following the legacy of Early Rome and the characteristics of past creative work, the regulation of the city of Rome limits the variety of colors building owners can use to paint the facades of the city. 

My Rome breathes with the pulse of the Vatican right in the center of its heart. This independent city-state offers some of the most memorable experiences possible. Overflowing with world-class Renaissance and Baroque masterpieces as well as grandiose architectural achievements, the Vatican can easily overwhelm if one lets it. If you show up at St. Peter's Square first thing in the morning with your tickets bought in advance, you will meet your tour guide, who will help you skip the long queue as you will have a rare chance to walk in the museum's corridors without the need of batling slow-moving crowds along the way. You will then be mesmerized inside of the Sistine Chaple by the breathtaking ceiling with the Creation of Adam and The Last Judgment by Michelangelo. Contemplating every single detail of it, you will have touched the untouchable, the absolute, the eternal...   
When you enter the magnificent St. Peter's Basilica and turn on the right-hand side, you will find yourself breathless in front of one of the world's most famous sculptures, carved and sighed by the 24-year-old genius, Michelangelo Buonarroti. Pietà depicts Mother Mary, holding Jesus' lifeless body on her lap. Observing all the beautiful lines, the expressions of the faces, the softly-falling light, you cannot help but feel the greatest human suffering alongside the greatest human love. You are in awe, your heart is filled with tender and astonishment as you shrink to a tiny mote of dust, insignificant to the Universe. 

My Rome is Bernini
The Eternal City is a showroom of his remarkable sculptures, paintings, and architectural projects. He was a child prodigy. His dramatic and stormy genius is evident from the design of St. Peter's Square and the spectacular baldachin canopy over the altar of St. Peter's Basilica, through my favorite fountain, Fountain of the Four River in my favorite Piazza Navona, to his unforgettable, outstanding marble sculptures. Bernini is the one who can give life to a single piece of marble, turning the stone into real flesh and emotion. I will never forget the first time I laid my eyes on one of Bernini's most brilliant pieces of art, masterfully displayed at Borghese Gallery (one can get close enough to study it from different points of view), The Rape of Proserpina. According to Roman mythology, she was an ancient Roman goddess and was kidnapped and taken to the underworld by God Pluto, who had fallen madly in love with her. It took my breath away and I could not take my eyes from the stunning lifelike details, especially Pluto's fingers sunk into Proserpina's thigh... Bernini was only 23 years old...
The second most impressive thing to me about Bernini are the two simple pieces of carved marble on the floor to the right-hand side of the main altar of the beautiful Basilica Santa Maria Maggiore which are apparently his tomb. Not a grandiose monument, not an ornated sarcophagus with wreaths and sculptures with lavish elements – one can definitely miss it if he or she is not looking for it. After Bernini died in his home in Rome, he was buried with little public fanfare, in the simple, unadorned Bernini family vault, together with his parents. Food for thought, isn't it? 

My Rome is an art gallery where with every turn of my head, I can immerse in "work of art". Layers of history and amazing examples of Rome's greatness and effortless elegance (which Romans live and breath in) are looking at me with readiness to tell their secrets and share their love for life. 

My Rome is a Dolce Vita textbook. 
Forget the extravagance of modern life. Embrace the apparent contradictions of the capital city. Ignore the desire to visit everywhere and see everything. Wander the streets with no destination. Just sit and breath in every surprising discovery, in each bite of your Margherita and sip of fresh water from the "nasoni' drinking fountains, in every technique of the artist's paintbrush and every 'ciao' and 'prego', in every Vespa zooming around you... (OK, I know the Italians talk fast and drive even faster, yet among the many forms of arts, they also master the art of slow living).
If you simply try to spend your days in slowness, appreciating magnificent beauty and enjoying simple pleasures, Rome would love you for that. 
"Every moment deserves amore", I was told by the charming waiter while he was pouring wine in my glass. 

Sì! I allow myself to be seduced by places...

(click on each image to see it in detail) 




A Roma Con Amore

Rome is L O V E.
Not just because of the fact that if you spell the Italian word for Rome, "Roma" backwards, you will find "Amor" – meaning Love, but rather because of the fact that Rome is sure to cast a spell on you the minute you take your first steps on the city's winding cobblestone alleys. Gathering energy from ruins and relics of its past, from the splendor of its art, churches, and culture along with the glory of its cuisine and coffee, Rome possesses this powerful force in the Universe to make you look at it with the glistening eyes of a lover, eventually winning your love forever.  

I know that one man's Rome is not necessarily another's. 

My Rome is the one shining in the rising sun. If I am eager enough to get up early in the morning, it will reward me with the warm embrace of empty bridges, fragrant bakeries, and fresh laundries. I love to walk until my feet kill me and I can go no further. Lost somewhere among the maze-like cobblestones, I will then relax over the best espresso in the world in a café standing elbow-to-elbow with locals. I will then resume. Because in Rome, there is always a door of a newly discovered church to open with who-knows-what exquisite art or architecture within. There is always a little trattoria with the most delicious creamy pasta cacio e pepe to enjoy on a red checkered tablecloth. Or a gelateria with who-knows-what kind of dreamy flavorful ice cream to try. Or a fresh food market with seasonal produce and happy vendors, unveiling a true cultural experience of the Italian way of life... This city begs to be uncovered at every corner with happy accidents of everyday simple beauty.  

My Rome is the one that possesses the most beautiful old walls coated with every stunning shade of ochre, rust, and terracotta. From the hues of the ancient gold, through the earth tones of the clay pots, to the color of the dark coffee crema, Roman buildings are a visual feast for an artistic eye. In fact, following the legacy of Early Rome and the characteristics of past creative work, the regulation of the city of Rome limits the variety of colors building owners can use to paint the facades of the city. 

My Rome breathes with the pulse of the Vatican right in the center of its heart. This independent city-state offers some of the most memorable experiences possible. Overflowing with world-class Renaissance and Baroque masterpieces as well as grandiose architectural achievements, the Vatican can easily overwhelm if one lets it. If you show up at St. Peter's Square first thing in the morning with your tickets bought in advance, you will meet your tour guide, who will help you skip the long queue as you will have a rare chance to walk in the museum's corridors without the need of batling slow-moving crowds along the way. You will then be mesmerized inside of the Sistine Chaple by the breathtaking ceiling with the Creation of Adam and The Last Judgment by Michelangelo. Contemplating every single detail of it, you will have touched the untouchable, the absolute, the eternal...   
When you enter the magnificent St. Peter's Basilica and turn on the right-hand side, you will find yourself breathless in front of one of the world's most famous sculptures, carved and sighed by the 24-year-old genius, Michelangelo Buonarroti. Pietà depicts Mother Mary, holding Jesus' lifeless body on her lap. Observing all the beautiful lines, the expressions of the faces, the softly-falling light, you cannot help but feel the greatest human suffering alongside the greatest human love. You are in awe, your heart is filled with tender and astonishment as you shrink to a tiny mote of dust, insignificant to the Universe. 

My Rome is Bernini
The Eternal City is a showroom of his remarkable sculptures, paintings, and architectural projects. He was a child prodigy. His dramatic and stormy genius is evident from the design of St. Peter's Square and the spectacular baldachin canopy over the altar of St. Peter's Basilica, through my favorite fountain, Fountain of the Four River in my favorite Piazza Navona, to his unforgettable, outstanding marble sculptures. Bernini is the one who can give life to a single piece of marble, turning the stone into real flesh and emotion. I will never forget the first time I laid my eyes on one of Bernini's most brilliant pieces of art, masterfully displayed at Borghese Gallery (one can get close enough to study it from different points of view), The Rape of Proserpina. According to Roman mythology, she was an ancient Roman goddess and was kidnapped and taken to the underworld by God Pluto, who had fallen madly in love with her. It took my breath away and I could not take my eyes from the stunning lifelike details, especially Pluto's fingers sunk into Proserpina's thigh... Bernini was only 23 years old...
The second most impressive thing to me about Bernini are the two simple pieces of carved marble on the floor to the right-hand side of the main altar of the beautiful Basilica Santa Maria Maggiore which are apparently his tomb. Not a grandiose monument, not an ornated sarcophagus with wreaths and sculptures with lavish elements – one can definitely miss it if he or she is not looking for it. After Bernini died in his home in Rome, he was buried with little public fanfare, in the simple, unadorned Bernini family vault, together with his parents. Food for thought, isn't it? 

My Rome is an art gallery where with every turn of my head, I can immerse in "work of art". Layers of history and amazing examples of Rome's greatness and effortless elegance (which Romans live and breath in) are looking at me with readiness to tell their secrets and share their love for life. 

My Rome is a Dolce Vita textbook. 
Forget the extravagance of modern life. Embrace the apparent contradictions of the capital city. Ignore the desire to visit everywhere and see everything. Wander the streets with no destination. Just sit and breath in every surprising discovery, in each bite of your Margherita and sip of fresh water from the "nasoni' drinking fountains, in every technique of the artist's paintbrush and every 'ciao' and 'prego', in every Vespa zooming around you... (OK, I know the Italians talk fast and drive even faster, yet among the many forms of arts, they also master the art of slow living).
If you simply try to spend your days in slowness, appreciating magnificent beauty and enjoying simple pleasures, Rome would love you for that. 
"Every moment deserves amore", I was told by the charming waiter while he was pouring wine in my glass. 

Sì! I allow myself to be seduced by places...

(click on each image to see it in detail) 





In the heart of Adams Morgan, one of the most diverse, eclectic and full of unique history neighborhoods of Washington, DC, stands a century-old and concrete-heavy building that had recently been transformed into one of the best hotels in the US capital. Who could have thought that a Neoclassical church, sitting empty for 25 years, could be so perfect for a hotel? And not just a hotel, but rather a space for the creative community to use, free of charge.
These days, the wonderful arches and soaring ceilings, the spiky chandelier made of the church organ's pipes, the beautifully-arrayed windows, the dynamic lobby with long communal tables and the podcast network studio make this space a model of originality and thoughtful design with an artistic sense of detail. Unlike the welcoming common area which stimulates interaction and socializing, the rooms are carefully designed to create a sense of home and calm; each has been furnished with vintage furniture, beautiful light-fittings, books and curated local artwork by Washington-area artists, of which 90 percent are women. In our room, I particularly enjoyed a black and white photograph of the First Ladies chatting and drinking wine at a social event. 

"I am going to give you the best available room right now," promised the friendly young man at the reception. And he didn't disappoint.
And when there was low water pressure on our floor, he compensated us with a free breakfast at one of their restaurants led by award-winning chefs. I can still hear the manager of the hotel saying to us, " It is not a problem. I will take care of everything!"

To those of you, who worship elegant design, delicious food and coffee, and beautiful music, and especially to those who support thoughtful business practices rooted in communities and creativity, I encourage you to plan a stay at The LINE DC when you visit Washington, DC next time. There are too many reasons to fall in love with the place, I promise.




The LINE DC
1770 Euclid Street  NW, Washington, DC 20009



/This is not a paid ad and all opinions are my own/  



The LINE DC


In the heart of Adams Morgan, one of the most diverse, eclectic and full of unique history neighborhoods of Washington, DC, stands a century-old and concrete-heavy building that had recently been transformed into one of the best hotels in the US capital. Who could have thought that a Neoclassical church, sitting empty for 25 years, could be so perfect for a hotel? And not just a hotel, but rather a space for the creative community to use, free of charge.
These days, the wonderful arches and soaring ceilings, the spiky chandelier made of the church organ's pipes, the beautifully-arrayed windows, the dynamic lobby with long communal tables and the podcast network studio make this space a model of originality and thoughtful design with an artistic sense of detail. Unlike the welcoming common area which stimulates interaction and socializing, the rooms are carefully designed to create a sense of home and calm; each has been furnished with vintage furniture, beautiful light-fittings, books and curated local artwork by Washington-area artists, of which 90 percent are women. In our room, I particularly enjoyed a black and white photograph of the First Ladies chatting and drinking wine at a social event. 

"I am going to give you the best available room right now," promised the friendly young man at the reception. And he didn't disappoint.
And when there was low water pressure on our floor, he compensated us with a free breakfast at one of their restaurants led by award-winning chefs. I can still hear the manager of the hotel saying to us, " It is not a problem. I will take care of everything!"

To those of you, who worship elegant design, delicious food and coffee, and beautiful music, and especially to those who support thoughtful business practices rooted in communities and creativity, I encourage you to plan a stay at The LINE DC when you visit Washington, DC next time. There are too many reasons to fall in love with the place, I promise.




The LINE DC
1770 Euclid Street  NW, Washington, DC 20009



/This is not a paid ad and all opinions are my own/