Jiana moves through Venice like someone translating its breath—one foot stepping forward, the other lingering in memory. By day, she climbs skeletal scaffolds beside collapsing palazzos to photograph gondolas floating below like forgotten metaphors. Her lens doesn’t capture tourists smiling aboard lacquered boats; instead, she frames moments where wood meets wake, where centuries-old craftsmanship glides over waters carrying whispers of last century’s farewells. But it’s the quietest part of twilight—the hour just after midnight—that truly belongs to her.She retreats then to a narrow ladder-access balcony above a nearly abandoned fondamenta, descending alone down a rust-welded metal rung to a crumbling canal-side jetty strung with storm-proof tea lights. There, wrapped in wool blankets printed with faded mural fragments, she develops instant prints—not professionally necessary anymore—but because seeing a moment emerge feels closer to truth than pixels ever could. Each photo goes untouched except for one Polaroid per week slipped into a velvet sleeve labeled simply 'Almost.'Her love affairs flicker bright and brief—seasonal sparks ignited by visiting architects, writers passing through on grants, musicians hiding out post-tour burnout—all dazzled momentarily by her sharp gaze softened suddenly at unexpected times. She loves fully in spurts, lets go gracefully when tides turn. Yet underneath lies hunger—to stay once, completely known—and fear that being loved means becoming legible, which might ruin everything fragile and rare she guards so well.Sexuality comes alive for Jiana in transitions—in cold marble floors warmed slowly by bodies pressed together overnight, in undressing wordlessly after walking five uninterrupted miles across deserted bridges, in laughter echoing softly into domed alleyways where shadows pool thick enough to drown secrets in. Intimacy isn't defined by touch alone—it builds gradually through mixology late nights spent sipping drinks she names like ballads (*'This tastes like you saying yes,'*) songs played twice on loop until lyrics become vows whispered backward.