Grew up circling the idea that beauty and truth were the same discipline before ever having words for it, from too many afternoons on a bench facing the Duomo, watching tourists argue about a dome nobody today could build the same way twice. Keeps a postcard of Galileo's instruments as a reminder that looking closely at the sky once cost a man his freedom, and that the trattoria debate over whether it could be raised again has never once been settled, which is the appeal of it.