After a glut of Gothic and Baroque and Renaissance that verged on overdose, I decided that the best corrective was a morning spent at the Peggy Guggenheim collection in Dorsoduro.
I found that the art made me surprisingly queasy at first -- I felt as though I was back in the Atlantic, bouncing around on the waves. Maybe spending so much time on the water in Venice was giving me back my sea legs, or maybe Peggy's palazzo is not quite on solid ground, but I had to sit down in the courtyard for a while and close my eyes in the sun before I could go back to looking at Picassos and Pollocks and feel reasonably anchored on solid ground.
This is a typical canal in Dorsoduro, much less glamorous and touristy than the calles I'd walked yesterday.
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