My mind is a conduit to knowing without knowing. It’s why I write the moment I wake. Hoping a thread of what I once knew informs me about myself.

Brought back to Europe after the Spanish Conquest the Milanese adopted the fruit as their own. I can see your eyebrows raise into a question mark. Fruit? Zucchini mascarades as a vegetable but botanically it’s a fruit - a swollen ovary growing off the flower.

I feel everything. As a child I learned early on to block out as much of these other feelings. I learned - intuitively - I needed to shield myself from feeling other peoples pain in order that I didn’t take it on as my own.

I heard children’s laughter. Yesterday I got a letter from heaven. A get out of jail free card. The postman tried to deliver a package when I was in the shower.

Dining in quarantine is important. I’ve not been doing a good job the last few days. A baked potato with butter. A half a bag of Reese’s eggs. A gift in the mail. Spaghetti with peas & Venetian carciofi. This morning I burned eggs. I put them on the back burner promptly forgetting I was cooking.

Troia putanna! Stronza! Two women came at me yelling. Whore. Bitch. I was speechless. I was sitting in the sun. I knew I was risking a €250 fine but I needed 10 minutes of sunshine. I was getting claustrophobic.

She likes the movin' and a groovin' Rock in the night out and the day in. I shake my arms up in the air waving them wildly. “Now this is something different” the pets think.

Me living in Venice was not by accident.

After 8 tumultuous years in Berlin too harrowing to discuss lest they consume this entry I came to Venice to convalesce.

Convalesce: To recover one's health & strength over a period of time.

I heard children’s laughter. Yesterday I got a letter from heaven. A get out of jail free card. The postman tried to deliver a package when I was in the shower.

I ate cheese for dinner. Too tired to cook. Cheese. And Bread. And Wine. I pulled the ingredients to make a salad but didn’t feel like it. Quarantine is getting to me. I eat the tomato standing in my kitchen biting into it like an apple.

Misery loves company. We’ve all fallen down this rabbit hole together. Daily life becoming curiouser and curiouser. I try to imagine what it will all be like when it’s over, when we all emerge like moles blinking in the sun.

The moon is powerful - so powerful it moves oceans. We have forgotten that we are also affected by this energy. And just like the deniers who said Covid19 was a political hoax on an election year - you don’t have to believe in the moons power for it to impact you. You feel it in your bones whether you believe or not.

Alcohol doesn’t help. But tonight I tried. Two martinis - gin not vodka -so dirty they spanked me. I needed an escape.

The thing I like about Italian food is it’s simplicity. Just the basics.

Last night I slipped into bed enveloped in lavender spritzed Egyptian cotton sheets. I love a well made bed.

A package arrived from the outside world. Margaret sent a simple luxury from New York - a package of blush.

I am his love slave. The singular reason for my existence is to serve his every need. He wakes me at 3 in the morning to rub his belly. At 3 in the afternoon I’m lulled to sleep by the sound of his purr. He stretches fully his arms raised above his head sighing in delight.

I go up. I go down. Yesterday I was so down I wonder if I will ever be able to get up off the floor again.

As a child, I would cut paper diamonds and glue them piece by piece to my clothes and wherever I walked, a cloud of paper followed me around like Kate Spade’s quote, “A trail of glitter follows wherever she goes.” My parents would get so frustrated & my dad would lecture me. I would get soo soo mad! “These are paper diamonds!!! 💎Can’t you see what I see!?”

I first began dabbling in crystals by accident. I was designing my jewelry collection The Republic of Toma and met one of the editors from Thai Tatler magazine who commented that my choice of stones was interesting. That my stones told the story of my soul.