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For a few years ago I was visiting one of my favourite cities on the Earth, Florence. It was early autumn, the sun was about to set and I was enjoying an aperitivo on an outdoor patio with a view over the Arno River and the famous old bridge, Ponte Vecchio. It was such a dreamy evening. The river was shining in golden and amber colors, Ponte Vecchio lit by soft street lights… The restaurant was so elegantly furnished, in such way that usually falls into my liking; with simple yet uncompromising elegance: White perfectly weathered linen tablecloths, spotless silverware, shiny crystals and bougainvillea climbing on the pergola. What I didn’t realize that day was how big of an influence it would have on my future life. For example my rather hopeless attempts to get bougainvillea to grow in our hemisphere, the love for worn linen tablecloths. I’m actually quite pleased over the fact that my 5-year old is asking for a linen napkin if it happens to be missing from the table setting. And not least the furniture that were wrought into perfection. I had rarely seen handmade furniture before that were so flawless and perfect in dimensions. Glad I took notes…
On the same trip I was visiting one of my favourite artists, the late Gianfranco Mello at his gallery and was given a private tour at Palazzo Pitti to see his painting at their fixed collection. But that’s another story…