Steve, Caroline, Charlotte, Julie, Italia. For seven days last summer, we woke to church bells, took the Spanish Steps by twos, drank wine with lunch, tossed coins into the Trevi Fountain and strolled ancient piazzas at midnight, gelato in hand. We studied the saints, wept in front of The Pieta, explored the secrets of the Vasari Corridor, lost ourselves in the Boboli Gardens. For seven days, we were Stefano, Carolina, Carlotta, Giulia and, of course, Italia. In some ways, I think we always will be. (image)
When is the last time you found a personal note peeking out of your mailbox? From someone who gathered paper, pen or laptop (and thoughts) and focused solely on dear, wonderful you? Well, there will always be correspondence to open here. Love letters from life, written just for you.