Illuminated: the return from the 54th Venice Biennale

It has taken me a week to decompress from an intense four days of contemporary art  at the Venice Biennale.  I'll admit, the rientro to Rome was a bittersweet denouement.  In Venice, I shirked responsabilities and lived in a world where I was only beholden to the sluggish vaporetto and my Twitter thumb, a unique tendonitis based solely on RTs*.   The return to Rome was an immediate jump into the deep end.  And in order to process it all-- by all, I mean the visual information overload of Venice, one must always adhere to Radio Silent. With a return to communications, my overall feelings for the Biennale can be summed up in this photo taken of the German Pavilion.  Ego-- art is about ego, its about presence and about showmanship.  Likewise so art its viewer, whether in stilettoes or sweats.  The entire Biennale experience may go unparalleled this year- it was like being in an alternate art reality Venice  where fashion and VIP parties dominated a sinking city sugar coated in contemporary art, where mega-yachts were mistaken for cruise ships, and where I dined with my cousin and friend to a live serenade of Superstition by Maroon 5 coming from the palazzo across the street.   It was amazing to be a part of the press week and I can't wait to do it again.

*Thanks for all the tweets and RTs -- I felt like I was walking around with my own gang.  And of course, thank you for the birthday wishes...