Tricks with the Light.

The weekend has sped by. Living with a one year old, even for the shortest time, does change your routine a bit and we've all tended to use Mario's downtime to grab our own naps on the sofa before heading out for bike rides, drinks and meets with old friends in the warmth of the evening.

On Sunday one further exhibition at the Forma gallery - a joint retrospective of Phil Stern's candid pictures of off guard Hollywood celebrities from the late fifties and early sixties set against Olaf Erwin's stunningly composed contemporary portraits, which fuse the control of studio photography with the pretence that we, the viewer, have accidentally caught a vital moment of existence. The two collections played neatly off each other.

This morning I said goodbye to my Italian family and headed south to Rome for the last throw of Summer. It was early evening by the time I'd discovered my hotel, but I still had enough time to wander into the near deserted St. Peter's - no queues if you turn up at 6pm - and had a slow hour circling round the basilica from Michelangelo's Pieta, past the saints, the rather blue mummified remains of Pope John, who looks happier in the postcards, the venerated statue of St. Peter, himself and finally ending up underneath the massive dome. By now the sunset was flooding in from the high western windows, dissecting the massive space in an awe inspiring light show which sent several pilgrims to their knees in prayer. The architects clearly knew what they about.

I ended the day sitting by a fountain in Bernini's square surrounded by lovers, beggars and cats, excited about the few days of exploration ahead.

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