Trafika Europe 11 - Swiss Delights

Matteo Terzaghi

crammed into his cubbyhole, leaving particles that will later spread the smell of tobacco and old stuff every time someone—even ten years from now, in some other city, on some other continent, or up on some other Olympus—goes to crack open their covers.

SEEING THE VIRGIN MARY

The first time a friend of mine saw his partner nurse their infant son, he said he felt as if all the lactating Virgin Marys in all the nearby churches, altars, and chapels had stepped out of their stone temples and were striding toward him on a tidal wave of grace. It was comical: there he was, raving at the sight of this new mother, falling victim to mystic visions; there she was, unable to hold him back, begging only for a bit of peace and quiet. This anecdote perfectly illustrates a phenomenon that takes place every day, in each of our lives, albeit in a less visible, more subtle way: an image floats to the surface of our conscience, projecting its meaning onto the external world. Then, once in a blue moon, it sparks a revelation, enlightens us, or at least causes our nervous

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