Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback on Monday’s post wondering what I’m doing here. I didn’t quite mean to stage a “Clap hands if you believe in fairies” moment, but you’ve definitely revived this Tinkerbelle’s enthusiasm. . . .
And now for something completely different (admit it: I’ve got range! we could call it random, eclectic. hmm, maybe scattered): Going through my travel pics, I rediscovered this series that I took of an astonishing window display in Rome. We passed this, not too far from the Piazza Navrone, and we either didn’t have time, or perhaps were a bit too intimidated to go inside. Not to mention the temptation that would have constituted to throw over our carry-on-only policy. A bit of research afterward let me know that Antica Libreria Cascianeli is worth visiting, and if you’re heading to Rome, I’d encourage you to search it out.
What caught my eye — arrested, more like! — was this amazing display of antique anatomy books and illustrations, apparently dating from the Renaissance. I’ll admit that I found some of them as gruesome as I did fascinating, but I snapped the shots for my daughter (a registered massage therapist who’s fascinated by anatomy and made numerous visits to an exhibit of Da Vinci’s anatomical illustrations at the Vancouver Art Gallery quite a few years ago).
Imagine how thrilled she would have been if I’d plunked down considerable cash and brought her home one of these stunning pages.
I can’t say I’d want a print of various ways to hold a scalpel or of the muscular structure of the leg hanging on my living-room wall, but you can’t argue that it doesn’t intrigue . . . .
What do you think? Would you frame these in a contemporary brushed steel? Or in a wide, carved baroque mahogany?
I’m not (yet) on Instagram and haven’t “shared” my photos there as per the invitation in the window, captured above just to the left of that antique model of some circulatory action. But I suspect there must be some great images there.
I know these window shots can be confusing or annoying to read with the overlay of subject with all the street reflections — I have to admit I love the mix, that apricot building across the street lined up next to the diagram of bone structures.
As for the bookstore itself, oh, this interior beckoned very enticingly. If/when we get to Rome again, I’ll have some euros set aside, ready to spend here, and I’ll be spending an hour or two browsing. Can’t you just smell those wonderful old books, that vanilla-magical bouquet of lignins, well aged. . . ?
Meanwhile, though, my lovely patient man was waiting. . . .
An icy limoncello was waiting as well, just around the corner. . . .
So there you go/ Can’t say this Nana doesn’t get around. At the moment, we’re over in Vancouver, one day past our daughter’s due date. No baby yet, but we’re pleased that rain has arrived, cooling our world down just a bit and freshening the air. Also pleased that we managed a late-afternoon cycle out to Spanish Banks yesterday, before the rain fell.
Thanks once again for reading and for all the kind and encouraging words you left here over the past couple of days. And Megan, don’t say I never snap weird photos, just for you. . .
As always, comments very welcome.
I couldn't have passed by this store either. I love your right-on description of the smell of the shop. You had me there.
I don't know how I'd frame them – or even if I'd be tempted by the drawings. I can see, though, how a drawing or book would be a wonderful gift for a massage-therapist daughter. I suppose that much would depend on the other objects in the room, but somehow an antique frame comes to mind.
Past the due date? I remember this time last year – tomorrow our wee one will be a year old. Thinking of you and your daughter as you wait…….
The window vignettes and the reflection of the surroundings are some of my favourite
Europe photos. I love old books and try to buy a special one from time to time. Your daughter would probably be thrilled with one of the drawings. The rain is indeed refreshing. I now have an image of you as a curly-haired Tinkerbell! Quite funny..
I'm chuckling now as well…
Ah, those drawings give me the creeps, but my daughter in medical school would love them. You do have an eye for the complex and the details.
And the weird and the arcane. . .
Those drawings would be fascinating to page through, but I don't think I'd want them in my home.
I attended the DaVinci exhibit of anatomical drawings in Vancouver a few years ago with my daughter, and just today, I took note again of the framed sketches from the exhibit, hanging in her bathroom.
Exactly the exhibit I meant. My daughter has one of those sketches hanging also.
How incredibly exciting to be waiting for a new grandchild. My ballerina daughter has a thing for biology and anatomy, so she'd love the images . . .
Oh! I loved this!! I'd have been all over that window – old scientific illustrations are a passion of mine – and you'd have had to drag me from the book store, I simply wouldn't have been able to resist.
Your photographs are fabulous, in part because of those gorgeous layered reflections.
Thanks, Annie! I love your blog and am so pleased you popped over for a visit — and so kind of you to compliment my photos, given your skill with the medium. Honestly, I keep regretting that I didn't even step in the store, but we only had two days in Rome and we discovered this on the last afternoon. I hope we get back some day — the windows won't be the same, but the interior looks as if it has staying power, no?