It isn't so often that you are left in awe. True awe, so otherworldly that your lack of words is a noticeable weight upon you. Last night happened to be one of those nights.
As we are traveling through Venice, Italy, a friend of mine and I picked up tickets to see Antonio Vivaldi's "Le Quattro Stagioni" (Four Seasons) performed in the prestigious Ateneo di San Basso in San Marco square. It was one of those rare cultural experiences where every detail falls together to construct a perfect memory. After sipping on a light, white wine at a small, river-front restaurant, we walked briskly to the concert hall to the staccato rhythm of a fairly heavy rain. Despite our sopping wet appearance, we managed to throw on a tie and a coat and look halfway presentable; at least comparable with the other soggy audience members.Read More