The Colour of Stone

 
The bisquit coloured walls of the Perugian towns beckoned me once to settle here in the Provinces. I spent three long years in the Sienese grain fields building a house for a friend. One can take the calmness for granted and the seeming absence of the need for politics may well have been an illusion but I rest assured that I don't know the members of the Italian Parliament nor the representatives at the UN headquarters personally and how much effect they have on my life remains a confounding mystery as I sit in the study looking at Teatro Torti and listening to the church bells.

Yet they say we are governed. What does this mean? Caring? Control? Conformity? Surely they are talking about co-existence or in Italian convivenza or co-habitation accepting the collective nature of our existence but then why do our governors talk so much about 'power'? No matter what the most brilliant human being thinks, nothing he can do will change the colour of stone.