The Shimmer

The Venus of Willendorf, a 32,000-year-old symbol of beauty that shimmers beyond vecchie signore che balla.1Nine years ago, I was unexpectedly alone in Rome so I spent the day at the Barberini, where I consumed so much Bernini and Caravaggio that my brain was stunned into silence by all that fleshy marble and bloody oil. When I reemerged into daylight, something shimmered at the edge of my vision, a glittery squiggle that had not been there before. The shimmer became a swirl that shrouded my sight like when the horizon appears to boil, a mirage that Italian sailors called vecchie signore che balla: old ladies dancing. Navigating a motorcycle-infested Roman piazza is difficult under the best conditions, and now I was helpless, alone in a strange city and unable to see. I collapsed into a café chair and waited to find out if I would go blind. This was my first visual migraine, but my first thought was I've seen too much beauty today.2Strange that beauty can be sinister. A dare or a…