They call me a seducer, an adventurer, a libertine. But I consider myself just a curious man, thirsty for freedom.
My origins
Venice was my first teacher.
Amidst calli, theaters and intrigue, I learned that every man wears a mask, and that the truth is hidden in the details.
The son of actors, I breathed art as a child. Curiosity has guided me ever since, pushing me to know, to experience, to live.
My rise
I have traveled all over Europe, from Paris to Vienna, from London to Prague.
Everywhere I went, curiosity and distrust, admiration and scandal greeted me.
I conversed with kings and philosophers, played, wrote, seduced. But deep down I was always looking for the same thing: a reflection of my freedom.
My adventures
I have loved many times, and each time with sincerity.
I risked, dueled, defied the rules, until I ended up at the Piombi, the most feared prison in Venice.
Yet, even from there I escaped.
Not out of vanity, but to reaffirm what I have always believed in: freedom does not lock up.
My thought
I have always been hungry for ideas: I have studied the laws of men and the mysteries of nature, I have questioned faith, science and even myself.
Knowledge has never given me certainty, but endless questions to pursue.
The last act
In recent years I have decided to write everything down.
Not to defend myself, but to tell about a man who lived without masks. In my pages I have left my time, my mistakes, my passions.
Those who read me, perhaps, will find a bit of themselves between the lines of my life.
Casanova Journal
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