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I Know, But I Won't Tell You Where.
Three years ago I lived in a small village, less than 100 people, in the Piemonte of Italy. One evening, in the one business in the town, a bar, I was told by the only English speaking (tri-lingual) person there that a local farmer wanted to show me something the next morning. I was surprised to learn his farm was a thriving convent 600 years ago, about the time Columbus was rediscovering America. Part of his house was in use then. He showed me more than a dozen beautiful frescos, some outside and partly faded by sun, some obscured by bushes, others in buildings used for storage of farm implements. Treasures he took for granted, unseen, unprotected, not valued.
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