Rome.
My mother always used to say I was like Nero, who played his violin while the city of Rome burned down to the ground. I always took it to mean I was too consumed by music and art, to see the chaos that danced around me. That, like Nero, I was self absorbed and irrational.
But I’m beginning to realise that perhaps it meant something completely different;
that even though the world was going up in flames, Nero had a passion that wouldn’t be snuffed out or forgotten.
button
