She lay, sleeping, on a plaza in the Old Town, beneath an echoing bell-tower. She was covered in too many layers of years that did not become her. But I sensed her charms immediately beneath the old scars, her skin so bruised and faded I yearned to soothe and heal it and let her beauty shine again. I had to protect her from the heat and cold, shelter her from the tearing rain, smooth away the wrinkles that told of so many stories. Above all, I yearned to strip away that unsightly outer shell.

I began by removing her old rags, then I circled her, missing nothing, taking in all her aspects, and I discovered signs of something alien to this place, something almost oriental. I installed dim lanterns to soften her nudity – but to reveal, not to cover – and hung silken cloth to illuminate her loveliness. I climbed to a high vantage to gaze on her, and many times I looked at her from the inside and from out. Then, I came to feel that she was appraising me, and smiling.

And when, finally, stripped then newly-clothed, I entered, I truly FELT her.