After two weeks of vomiting images, I finally sat down and listened to my inner self: what do I like about Italy? What do I go back to to draw? The answer was the buildings. Not simply architecture, but the time left behind these bricks. These bricks have existed through many generations and watched people come and go. They were always here. They remember the times passed, but also the times left behind. That crack on the corner, that stone step that has been grooved to people's feet, those cobblestones that have been pushed up by cars. I see time in these inanimate objects. People pass, but these exist. These houses and roads are not made of mere earth, but layers of time with people. I find that beautiful.