“Nuts or Not?”I had settled into my window seat in the 13th row of the 747 bound for London. The woman sitting next to me was dozing. With her head practically on my shoulder, I tried to calm my restlessness with a cocktail. The headline on the cover of a flight magazine peaking out of the pocket in the seat in front of me caught my eye. “Visit the Pieta,” it read. I had studied the Renaissance sculpture in one of my freshman art classes. I threw myself into the article and began to obsess about the artist Michelangelo. In no time at all I had also drifted off into a deep sleep and began to dream.
The world I stepped into was like no other. With every move I made I felt like I was walking on air, rather than the floor inside a cathedral. The light streamed through the stained glass window
