A BUDAPEST DRAWING ROOM
We walk the dignified streets of Budapest, impressive and imperial in their old world order, and we wonder what lies within these imposing buildings of classical lines and grandeur. Most visitors here have no idea.
Denizens emerge from the noble portals and make their way outward, into this city of high culture, about the revealed and the withheld. But from what world within this world do they come and to where do they return once all their urban needs are seen to of an afternoon?
Perhaps to a context befitting this refined city, this surely, but what in the world would it be?
And so these questions remain unanswered as we proceed along these unfamiliar streets whose rows of blooming fruit trees in spring remind us of something, but of what? Do we ever know for sure, do we ever truly see?