Venice Has My Body: A Love Letter To Venice

As a New Yorker, it’s not a hard city to love when the literal metaphor of a mask is littered everywhere—when there’s art oozing out of every corner.

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MY MOTHER’S CIRCUS/HAND-SEWN CARNIVAL

“My grandmother made Christmas ornaments from dried apricots and sugar cookies that she baked with her own hands, a creation upon a creation. They were all tiny women, and she gave them dark hair like us, which felt like a gift to me.”

The Christmas Poop of Catalan

“Whether you think Christmas is shit or Christmas is the shit, when you are Catalan, your Christmas is going to be full of shit. And I mean literally. And no, it doesn’t get that dirty (usually).”

“Did You Mean: Oppressive”

“I came across this news article talking about how Italian museums covered statues of nude women in order to avoid offending the president of Iran.

I’m sorry, but what is this shit?”