Vienna, Vienna...

has stripped me of a few demons.
In spite of its intense loveliness, I needed to leave Prague.
Here is better; here my feet are lighter; here I feel my heart beating evenly again.
We laid eyes on a stunning Klimt exhibit yesterday (as it stands, he will forever have my heart), lounged in a cafe with tea against our lips, then drank in the stimulating chaos of an Austrian street market--copious amounts of scents wafting, voices screaming, languages twining, dogs wandering solo, and aggressive vendors, etc etc. And that shoddy description hardly does it justice. It was enriching and entrancing...my observation instincts went into full blossom, and it is no exaggeration that I could have walked up and down that same lanky strip for hours, and not have grown tired of it.
I connect well with this city...we have a strange and fierce affinity for one another...I feel its energy slipping through my veins like liquid inspiration...
and I am savouring that.
Going going gone,
R.