(I originally had this posted on Facebook, but Mom urged me to post it here. This was written while in Germany... before coming to Turkey. Yes, I was in Germany for about five days before coming to Turkey. I will be here until... Wednesday at which point I will return to Germany for another fivish days before coming home. It has been very lovely, but very cold. I stupidly lost an AMAZING pair of gloves on the bus to Naples :( and did not realize it until coming to Germany and then being seriously annoyed because my hands were cold. Serves me right. They were well used in Cortona. I miss them.
Upon arrival in Turkey, we both did not see my uncle who was picking us up and did not see my bag which had to be checked in. Gordon thought he had their number, but didn't and I thought my bag would be with the rest of the luggage from my flight, but wasn't. It was with the 'International Flights' luggage. Such an annoyance. Ah well. Gordon was determined to find turkey to eat in Turkey on Thanksgiving, it turns out that it was entirely unnecessary as, just as I predicted, my aunt has a beautiful Thanksgiving dinner for us here. It was wonderful.
Alright, without further ado, the stuff I posted from Facebook. Mostly my thoughts on the Tea Fire and the end of the Cortona program.)
Something to contemplate a year later.
It came up tonight, The Fire did. It put our little, insignificant school on the map for the whole country to see. But people shrug it off. They say "Oh, Westmont. Didn't you all get caught in that fire a while back?"
And my mind flashes back to fluorescent light streaming through gray and a thousand students pacing or laying about, lackluster and in shock about the whole situation.
"Yes," I say, "I spent sixteen hours in a smokey gym."
I try to explain how it was, but they've already lost interest. It isn't real for them. It isn't real like it was for me.
They don't understand that every time I smell smoke, I think about how the ash burned my eyes every time I laid down.
They don't know that whenever my clothing smells like cigarettes, I remember how my clothing smelled like smoke, even after the shower at Kelly's and how after a month of them sitting in the car, because I didn't even want to bother with them, how even then, they smelled of smoke.
They don't realize that any time I see a light on a hill or something illuminating the night sky, I get a rush of adrenaline until I know for sure what is causing the light.
They can't imagine the sinking feeling of hearing the destruction over the loudspeaker.
They can't hear the wind screaming or see the orange sky or watch a red sun rise through a sea of ash.
Cortona.
Yes, it's all about that fire. Nothing can be quite so bad now. I can have patience with other situations. Getting up at 2:30 to wait five hours in an empty airport is nothing.
I understand people not understanding. I understand when they don't feel as I do.
They won't know the rush of meeting strangers and suddenly realizing you have another family, even if you don't quite feel like it yet.
They can't see all the art works mingling together from centuries and centuries all forming one long narrative, talking to each other and being able to talk back in their language.
They haven't heard the endless conversations of fifty people living in the same space and cooking in the same kitchen, drinking the same wine and tasting the same peppery olive oil and saltless bread.
They don't know the view that was never the same any two days. They aren't familiar with the burning in our calves from the hill, just not steep enough to be a staircase, nor the cold wind on our chapped faces brushing up the falling leaves.
They will never drink cappuccinos with quite the same relish. They won't visit the same places in the same sequence or walk quite the same foot steps. They'll never ride in the same buses or trains.
They won't hear the same voices chanting lessons, explaining the meaning of the cupids on Goliaths' helmet or why Mary's robe is always blue or why this line should be longer or how this needs more value or not to carve in that direction or how to order food without sounding like a complete idiot.
They'll never taste the same walnuts, pears, figs, noodles, pesto and cheeses.
They won't curl on the couch with the same people.
They won't know the echos off the high ceilings or complain about the light in the hallway going off after a few minutes.
And they'll never know quite the same feeling of bereft after leaving all this behind.
In the end, it's all about The Fire, isn't it?
Friday, November 27, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
From "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn"
By Betty Smith
The night was heady and frosty. There was no wind and the air was cold and still. The stars were brilliant and hung low in the sky. There were so many stars that their light made the sky a deep cobalt blue. There wasn't a moon, but the starlight served better than moonlight.
Francie stood on tiptoe and stretched her arms wide.
"Oh I want to hold it all!" she cried, "I want to hold the say the night is-- cold without wind. And the way the stars are so near and shiny. I want to hold all of it tight until it hollers, 'Let me go! Let me go!'"
"Don't stand so near the edge," said Neely uneasily, "You might fall off the roof."...
"I need someone," Francie thought desperately, "I need someone. I need someone to hold close. And I need more than this holding. I need someone to understand how I feel at a time like now. And understanding must be part of the holding."...
"Neely, if you had to die, wouldn't it be wonderful to die now- While you believed that everything was perfect, the way this night is perfect?"
Friends, it was my last day in Cortona on Tuesday. The last days were spent packing things and enjoying the company of my friends. We watched a meteor shower on Monday night/Tuesday morning. My friends, this was the perfect passage for the evening. We walked up to The Fortress
which is right above Santa Margarita (the church at the top of the hill above the JDK center. Oh, and also, did I tell you that Santa Margarita is the patron saint of Cortona? She protects Cortona from earthquakes and bombs. I somehow seem to remember talking about her, but maybe I didn't. Her big miracle is finding her dead lover in the middle of a field. I think the story is sad...)
But anyway, a friend and I went with some friends, most of whom were very alcoholically charged. Lexi and I were not, so we listened to the others and talked to each other and wished upon falling stars.
On Tuesday, we packed everything and had dinner for the very last time at Tonino's. We had dinner there the night before as the "Last Supper" which was Tonino's finest. Tonino's is actually a five star restaurant and hotel. We did not experience the "fivestarness" of Tonino's most of the time. Not that the food was bad, it just wasn't "five star." But the last supper was pretty good and it was also the twins' birthday. They turned twenty one. We've had many a birthday here, and it's great because they always make an extra effort at dessert the night where we have a birthday, not that it mattered that night... but we did have fun.
That was Monday night. On Tuesday night, the twins' dad came down. We took him to a place in town called "Dulce Maria" and had dessert. Apparently, I was very funny. I was making jokes about feminists, the Cookie Monster and Land Before Time (3,000,005! Watch them turn into oil!) And then I tripped, which was only funnier until the next day when I noticed a huge bruise on my left knee. The stories that left knee has. I think in a different life, I would be a comedienne. Maybe I will be some day... maybe.
On Wednesday we said good-bye to our dear Cortona and made our way to Naples. Napoli is a bit of a shock in comparison to the rest of Italy that we have seen. Naples is VERY industrial/urban. We have thus far been to very scenic and rural towns (even Rome had its rural moments). Naples is also scenic, but very much like a big city, full of cars and apartments and noise. It has been very hazy here all day. We went to the beach yesterday (not so huge for me since I have lived next to beaches literally my entire life) and it was very nice. The sand here is black and filled with sea glass and worn ceramic pieces. Sea glass, for those who don't know what it is, is glass from bottles or wherever, that has been worn away by the ocean to be translucent and rounded at the edges, much like smooth, round rocks only they are still in odd shapes. It's very pretty against the black of the sand. There were a lot of stairs to get down to the seaside. It made Cortona's hill look a little silly (but not much).
Today, we went to the Compadimonte, which is a huge museum that used to be a mansion filled with paintings from the Renaissance, Italian and otherwise. It contained a Caravaggio, which we all went on a mad hunt to find, before sauntering through the rest of the museum. It was a huge building and one could certainly imagine balls and events being held there before it became a museum. Then we hung out on the lawn for a long time, playing with a soccer ball that a couple of teenagers did not want anymore. Then we went to the Archeological museum. Lea called it "the Superbowl of Archeology." I must admit, it has a LOT of classical sculpture in it, including a room filled with "naughty" objects taken from Ancient Roman villas and homes.
During the 19th century when excavations were beginning to be made, naturally, there was a lot of scandal around these explicit objects that they found. Not wanting to damage the pure minds of the lady folk who went on the Grand Tour, they decided to take all of these objects and put them into one room, so that their gentility could be preserved. This just means that now we have a room full of ancient phallic objects. It's pretty funny when you think about it... rather than be spread out and less shocking, you get shock all at once... and a lot of it. Naw, it wasn't all that bad. Romans used these objects to ward away bad spirits. They were considered signs of fertility and because of the completely ridiculous nature of some of them, rather funny. And laughter was the best way to ward away evil spirits, thus these were talismans against bad spirits.
The rest of the museum was remarkable. It contained many figures and mosaics from bathhouses and from the temples located in Pompeii before the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius. Most of these figures were colossal, well over twice to three times my height, I am sure. Oddly, though all of us have been feeling rather exhausted and we were all rather glad to be back on the bus to go back to our hotel. And now I am at an internet cafe... and very late for dinner.
The night was heady and frosty. There was no wind and the air was cold and still. The stars were brilliant and hung low in the sky. There were so many stars that their light made the sky a deep cobalt blue. There wasn't a moon, but the starlight served better than moonlight.
Francie stood on tiptoe and stretched her arms wide.
"Oh I want to hold it all!" she cried, "I want to hold the say the night is-- cold without wind. And the way the stars are so near and shiny. I want to hold all of it tight until it hollers, 'Let me go! Let me go!'"
"Don't stand so near the edge," said Neely uneasily, "You might fall off the roof."...
"I need someone," Francie thought desperately, "I need someone. I need someone to hold close. And I need more than this holding. I need someone to understand how I feel at a time like now. And understanding must be part of the holding."...
"Neely, if you had to die, wouldn't it be wonderful to die now- While you believed that everything was perfect, the way this night is perfect?"
Friends, it was my last day in Cortona on Tuesday. The last days were spent packing things and enjoying the company of my friends. We watched a meteor shower on Monday night/Tuesday morning. My friends, this was the perfect passage for the evening. We walked up to The Fortress
which is right above Santa Margarita (the church at the top of the hill above the JDK center. Oh, and also, did I tell you that Santa Margarita is the patron saint of Cortona? She protects Cortona from earthquakes and bombs. I somehow seem to remember talking about her, but maybe I didn't. Her big miracle is finding her dead lover in the middle of a field. I think the story is sad...)
But anyway, a friend and I went with some friends, most of whom were very alcoholically charged. Lexi and I were not, so we listened to the others and talked to each other and wished upon falling stars.
On Tuesday, we packed everything and had dinner for the very last time at Tonino's. We had dinner there the night before as the "Last Supper" which was Tonino's finest. Tonino's is actually a five star restaurant and hotel. We did not experience the "fivestarness" of Tonino's most of the time. Not that the food was bad, it just wasn't "five star." But the last supper was pretty good and it was also the twins' birthday. They turned twenty one. We've had many a birthday here, and it's great because they always make an extra effort at dessert the night where we have a birthday, not that it mattered that night... but we did have fun.
That was Monday night. On Tuesday night, the twins' dad came down. We took him to a place in town called "Dulce Maria" and had dessert. Apparently, I was very funny. I was making jokes about feminists, the Cookie Monster and Land Before Time (3,000,005! Watch them turn into oil!) And then I tripped, which was only funnier until the next day when I noticed a huge bruise on my left knee. The stories that left knee has. I think in a different life, I would be a comedienne. Maybe I will be some day... maybe.
On Wednesday we said good-bye to our dear Cortona and made our way to Naples. Napoli is a bit of a shock in comparison to the rest of Italy that we have seen. Naples is VERY industrial/urban. We have thus far been to very scenic and rural towns (even Rome had its rural moments). Naples is also scenic, but very much like a big city, full of cars and apartments and noise. It has been very hazy here all day. We went to the beach yesterday (not so huge for me since I have lived next to beaches literally my entire life) and it was very nice. The sand here is black and filled with sea glass and worn ceramic pieces. Sea glass, for those who don't know what it is, is glass from bottles or wherever, that has been worn away by the ocean to be translucent and rounded at the edges, much like smooth, round rocks only they are still in odd shapes. It's very pretty against the black of the sand. There were a lot of stairs to get down to the seaside. It made Cortona's hill look a little silly (but not much).
Today, we went to the Compadimonte, which is a huge museum that used to be a mansion filled with paintings from the Renaissance, Italian and otherwise. It contained a Caravaggio, which we all went on a mad hunt to find, before sauntering through the rest of the museum. It was a huge building and one could certainly imagine balls and events being held there before it became a museum. Then we hung out on the lawn for a long time, playing with a soccer ball that a couple of teenagers did not want anymore. Then we went to the Archeological museum. Lea called it "the Superbowl of Archeology." I must admit, it has a LOT of classical sculpture in it, including a room filled with "naughty" objects taken from Ancient Roman villas and homes.
During the 19th century when excavations were beginning to be made, naturally, there was a lot of scandal around these explicit objects that they found. Not wanting to damage the pure minds of the lady folk who went on the Grand Tour, they decided to take all of these objects and put them into one room, so that their gentility could be preserved. This just means that now we have a room full of ancient phallic objects. It's pretty funny when you think about it... rather than be spread out and less shocking, you get shock all at once... and a lot of it. Naw, it wasn't all that bad. Romans used these objects to ward away bad spirits. They were considered signs of fertility and because of the completely ridiculous nature of some of them, rather funny. And laughter was the best way to ward away evil spirits, thus these were talismans against bad spirits.
The rest of the museum was remarkable. It contained many figures and mosaics from bathhouses and from the temples located in Pompeii before the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius. Most of these figures were colossal, well over twice to three times my height, I am sure. Oddly, though all of us have been feeling rather exhausted and we were all rather glad to be back on the bus to go back to our hotel. And now I am at an internet cafe... and very late for dinner.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
All Hallow's Eve
The joys of being in college on Halloween!
I just got an e-mail from my first cousin once removed about having to give out treats and sadly running out of fun-sized bits of joy. My mom replied with a comment on the fact that our neighborhood children apparently either don't trick-or-treat or simply just don't come to our house.
Well, my friends, I was very excited for Halloween and was not at all disappointed. I LOVE October. It's possibly my favorite month. I like July, also, obviously since it is party month at my house, but October is starting to win over. I had a fantastic October (see other blog entries) and was sad to see it go, but what a way to go!
I was a little disappointed getting up because I did not really want to go on our weekly field trip to heaven knows where. Then I read that we were going to Siena. Cool, I thought. Little did I know (I would have known if Grace and I hadn't skipped dinner on Friday night) that we were not going to Siena but Bevagna and Torgiano. Huh... so... again with boring little towns that no one has ever heard of... It didn't turn out so badly.
Bevagna was actually pretty nice. We went to a Medieval paper making place. They apparently do annual competitions in June around Medieval paper making with specific standards that they must follow in order so that they keep in line with how paper would have been made in the Medieval era. It was pretty cool.
Then they had a park which was very nice. It's all fallish here. The fall colors are in full blast with bright yellow leaves everywhere. We just sort of flopped down on the lawn and soaked in our environment.
Then we went to Torgiano, which was cold. We went to a wine museum. It had a nice printmaking and ceramic vessel collection. That was fun to see. The best bit was the view and sunset, though. It was very beautiful, especially because the moon was also up. I did not think that anything could beat Southern Californian sunsets. I think Tuscan sunsets would hold their own in a competition.
Then we went home. We were all supposed to come dressed up in costume for dinner. They actually are beginning to celebrate Halloween a lot more here in Italy. As far as I can tell, it isn't a HUGE deal as it is in America, but people carve pumpkins (they don't buy fake plastic or Styrofoam ones... they carve REAL pumpkins. Italians, I applaud you. Well done.) and children dress up and they sell firecrackers at the toy store. Wait, what??? Firecrackers??? Yes. None of us bought them, but you could definitely get yourself whole packs of fireworks and the kids around town had a lot of fun. America could learn a lot from Italian celebratory style...
Dressed up for dinner, eh? I didn't know what I wanted to be. At first I was like, I'll wear an overcoat and a hat and be "Carmen San Diego" but then I thought "No, I have had enough of stupid Halloween outfits. I know I can't be anything really awesome, but I'll dress up nice and look cool... yes. This is a good plan."
If anyone knows anything about stupid Halloween costumes, it's me. Freshman year of college, I cheered for ceilings. I was a "Ceiling Fan." (Wait for it to sink in... yeeeeah... that's right.... can't believe it, can you?) Sophomore year, I put on a bandanna and eye patch and attached a dollar bill to each ear. I was a "Buccaneer" (say it out loud... waaait for it.... yeah... even WORSE isn't it?) Last year... I was.... I don't know what I was... as I remember it... something to do with my roommate's extra corset, although I seriously gave much thought to putting a box with a bra attached to it over my head and being "Wall-E" (watch mom's eyes pop as she reads this...)
None of that for me this year. No, I was going to look nice... well... maaaybe I'd dress up as something... just a little.
For some reason, since Freshman year, I have had an outrageous amount of glitter in my make-up case. Why? I don't know. I suppose I have been waiting for the opportune moment. I didn't see a more opportune moment than this. I put on all black, with a deep red and black scarf I bought in Florence, but on a pair of black and silver dangly star earrings I bought and some really dark red lipstick and a whole heckovalot of glitter. What was I?
If you guessed beautiful woman making fun...er... being a vampire from the 'Twilight' series, you guessed right. I had SO much glitter on. I definitely 'dazzled.' This has been the First time I have ever been anything emulating something slightly frightening. Nothing can be more frightening than a sparkly undead person who stalks people and constantly tells them how delicious they smell.
Grace twisted her ankle in Bevagna (she's hobbling around on a sore ankle today. I don't know if it's just twisted or something else. She'll find out on Tuesday.) so she wasn't really into the Halloween spirit. She thought she would just go to dinner and head back up. How wrong she was.
They had a lot of great costumes last night. The printmaking professor dressed up as Frida Kahlo (ok, I totally thought about doing that one also last year when I had long hair... and a unibrow:) a few of the boys dressed up as a few of the girls on our program (not quite effective as the boys both have beards and did not shave them.) and several of the girls dressed as old people (one very convincing old man and three convincing old ladies). We also had a number of wildlife (a zebra, a deer and a bear) and a Native American, Robin Hood and Cupid all complete with bows and arrows. My personal favorite was our Art History professor who wore all black with a gold band around her waist and a red cap on her head. When she pressed down her cap, it lit up. Any guesses? She was a Lazer pointer! (She uses one for every class, so it was funny...)
At Tonino's, they had candy on each table and they had cleared out the room next to ours. They gave each table a bottle of white wine and a bottle of Moscato (really sweet sparkling wine. It's good stuff. Even the non-drinkers drink full glasses.) Then the music started in the other room. They brought in a DJ who was really... bad... but we didn't care. In my opinion he was actually better than a lot of the DJ's they have at Westmont. (Yeah, Westmont... you need to get with the program. The Italian guy who plays and sings Italian folk music which sounds very similar to Polka music is better than your DJ's.) He mixed in a few songs from Grease and the YMCA song and we had quite the dance party. (Grace went home after this, but she stayed much longer than she had intended on doing.)
Then everyone went down to the Lion's Well (the local pub) to continue to celebrate. They had a better DJ who was pretty darn good. Again, WAY better than Westmont DJ's. I ordered a Fuzzy Navel and thoroughly enjoyed talking to people.
All in all, it was a delightful evening.
(And also, I need to stop using so many parenthesis! Geez...)
I just got an e-mail from my first cousin once removed about having to give out treats and sadly running out of fun-sized bits of joy. My mom replied with a comment on the fact that our neighborhood children apparently either don't trick-or-treat or simply just don't come to our house.
Well, my friends, I was very excited for Halloween and was not at all disappointed. I LOVE October. It's possibly my favorite month. I like July, also, obviously since it is party month at my house, but October is starting to win over. I had a fantastic October (see other blog entries) and was sad to see it go, but what a way to go!
I was a little disappointed getting up because I did not really want to go on our weekly field trip to heaven knows where. Then I read that we were going to Siena. Cool, I thought. Little did I know (I would have known if Grace and I hadn't skipped dinner on Friday night) that we were not going to Siena but Bevagna and Torgiano. Huh... so... again with boring little towns that no one has ever heard of... It didn't turn out so badly.
Bevagna was actually pretty nice. We went to a Medieval paper making place. They apparently do annual competitions in June around Medieval paper making with specific standards that they must follow in order so that they keep in line with how paper would have been made in the Medieval era. It was pretty cool.
Then they had a park which was very nice. It's all fallish here. The fall colors are in full blast with bright yellow leaves everywhere. We just sort of flopped down on the lawn and soaked in our environment.
Then we went to Torgiano, which was cold. We went to a wine museum. It had a nice printmaking and ceramic vessel collection. That was fun to see. The best bit was the view and sunset, though. It was very beautiful, especially because the moon was also up. I did not think that anything could beat Southern Californian sunsets. I think Tuscan sunsets would hold their own in a competition.
Then we went home. We were all supposed to come dressed up in costume for dinner. They actually are beginning to celebrate Halloween a lot more here in Italy. As far as I can tell, it isn't a HUGE deal as it is in America, but people carve pumpkins (they don't buy fake plastic or Styrofoam ones... they carve REAL pumpkins. Italians, I applaud you. Well done.) and children dress up and they sell firecrackers at the toy store. Wait, what??? Firecrackers??? Yes. None of us bought them, but you could definitely get yourself whole packs of fireworks and the kids around town had a lot of fun. America could learn a lot from Italian celebratory style...
Dressed up for dinner, eh? I didn't know what I wanted to be. At first I was like, I'll wear an overcoat and a hat and be "Carmen San Diego" but then I thought "No, I have had enough of stupid Halloween outfits. I know I can't be anything really awesome, but I'll dress up nice and look cool... yes. This is a good plan."
If anyone knows anything about stupid Halloween costumes, it's me. Freshman year of college, I cheered for ceilings. I was a "Ceiling Fan." (Wait for it to sink in... yeeeeah... that's right.... can't believe it, can you?) Sophomore year, I put on a bandanna and eye patch and attached a dollar bill to each ear. I was a "Buccaneer" (say it out loud... waaait for it.... yeah... even WORSE isn't it?) Last year... I was.... I don't know what I was... as I remember it... something to do with my roommate's extra corset, although I seriously gave much thought to putting a box with a bra attached to it over my head and being "Wall-E" (watch mom's eyes pop as she reads this...)
None of that for me this year. No, I was going to look nice... well... maaaybe I'd dress up as something... just a little.
For some reason, since Freshman year, I have had an outrageous amount of glitter in my make-up case. Why? I don't know. I suppose I have been waiting for the opportune moment. I didn't see a more opportune moment than this. I put on all black, with a deep red and black scarf I bought in Florence, but on a pair of black and silver dangly star earrings I bought and some really dark red lipstick and a whole heckovalot of glitter. What was I?
If you guessed beautiful woman making fun...er... being a vampire from the 'Twilight' series, you guessed right. I had SO much glitter on. I definitely 'dazzled.' This has been the First time I have ever been anything emulating something slightly frightening. Nothing can be more frightening than a sparkly undead person who stalks people and constantly tells them how delicious they smell.
Grace twisted her ankle in Bevagna (she's hobbling around on a sore ankle today. I don't know if it's just twisted or something else. She'll find out on Tuesday.) so she wasn't really into the Halloween spirit. She thought she would just go to dinner and head back up. How wrong she was.
They had a lot of great costumes last night. The printmaking professor dressed up as Frida Kahlo (ok, I totally thought about doing that one also last year when I had long hair... and a unibrow:) a few of the boys dressed up as a few of the girls on our program (not quite effective as the boys both have beards and did not shave them.) and several of the girls dressed as old people (one very convincing old man and three convincing old ladies). We also had a number of wildlife (a zebra, a deer and a bear) and a Native American, Robin Hood and Cupid all complete with bows and arrows. My personal favorite was our Art History professor who wore all black with a gold band around her waist and a red cap on her head. When she pressed down her cap, it lit up. Any guesses? She was a Lazer pointer! (She uses one for every class, so it was funny...)
At Tonino's, they had candy on each table and they had cleared out the room next to ours. They gave each table a bottle of white wine and a bottle of Moscato (really sweet sparkling wine. It's good stuff. Even the non-drinkers drink full glasses.) Then the music started in the other room. They brought in a DJ who was really... bad... but we didn't care. In my opinion he was actually better than a lot of the DJ's they have at Westmont. (Yeah, Westmont... you need to get with the program. The Italian guy who plays and sings Italian folk music which sounds very similar to Polka music is better than your DJ's.) He mixed in a few songs from Grease and the YMCA song and we had quite the dance party. (Grace went home after this, but she stayed much longer than she had intended on doing.)
Then everyone went down to the Lion's Well (the local pub) to continue to celebrate. They had a better DJ who was pretty darn good. Again, WAY better than Westmont DJ's. I ordered a Fuzzy Navel and thoroughly enjoyed talking to people.
All in all, it was a delightful evening.
(And also, I need to stop using so many parenthesis! Geez...)
Sunday, October 18, 2009
The Irony
Oh, the irony! There are a number of festivals that go on this time of year. One of them is the Castagne Festival in Preggio. I went to it the weekend before last. The excitement! The adventure! The... unexpected... ness.
I did not know what kind of festival it was until Gino got us into the car and we left for Preggio. Apparently, he'd forgotten what kind of festival it was until that morning.
Castagne, my friends, is Italian for chestnut. As mentioned in the previous blog, I am allergic to chestnuts. I broke out in hives in second grade on Christmas Eve and found out that Santa was not real... it's ok, I just remember being to itchy to care that my parents were stuffing my stocking.
Since then, my curiosity has been satisfied as to the flavor and nature of this curious dark brown nut. But it is very difficult to explain to someone who does not speak English that the reason that I was not participating in the wonders of chestnuttery was not because I was being picky or a fussy American, but that simply I could not eat them. So I just lived with Gino calling me a "fussy American woman."
My roommate, dear Grace, the same weekend went to the International Chocolate Festival in Perugia. I can't completely say that I am jealous (no sarcasm. Honest.) Apparently, as it was the first weekend of the festival, it was over packed and there was not much variety in the kinds of chocolate they had. In other words, she said that most booths sold the exact same brands. She did buy some Italian Hot Chocolate. Italian Hot Chocolate is very different from American Hot Chocolate. American Hot Chocolate is like... flavored water in comparison. Italian Hot Chocolate is basically hot chocolate pudding. It thick, frothy and amazing.
It's ok. I am glad I went to the Castagne Festival. I still had fun, I just couldn't eat much there. We did finally find something without chestnut in it, lamb on a skewer. I enjoyed it thoroughly.
About food here, big surprise, everything is Italian food. (Duh, you're in ITALY! Enjoy the food while you can!) But friends, there is only so many ways that one can fix pasta, and I have had them all here, I am sure. Actually, everyone is getting sick of Italian food. I broke down last week and bought a pack of Oreos (they come in boxes of four packs... this is nice because that way one does not serial eat Oreos). This week, people were making hamburgers and steaks in the kitchen We don't get steak a whole lot at Tonino's (the place we eat every night), so everyone who was not a vegetarian was drooling over the variety of red meat in the kitchen this last weekend.
I personally made some chili. It was slightly too spicy, but I enjoyed it anyway. I didn't get many takers on it though :\ It isn't really all that much fun to cook for oneself I learned. There has to be someone to enjoy it. It's like art. Art for oneself has a place, but usually it is restricted to sketchbooks and journals, where it's more of a processing than actual 'art.' Art is meant to be enjoyed by more than one person.
And now for this weekend. I've gotten really bad at taking pictures on this trip. It's difficult since all of the places seem to run together and there are very few that really stand out in my mind. This last weekend we went to Voltarra and San Gimigiano. I think that San Gimigiano will definitely forever stand out in my mind. First place, it is the location of "The World's Best Gelato." No joke. This place has won the World Gelato Competition two years running. I must say, it was pretty good gelato (but again, I am really over gelato, also. Give me Ben and Jerry's. Please.)
Second, it is the home of not one, but two Museums of Torture. We went to both. I thought it would be a fun Halloween activity. Friends, I do not recommend them. It sounded so cool at the beginning... until you realize that people actually were tortured in these ways and are still tortured in some of the ways displayed. The best/worst part were all the wax figures that were being mutilated in various ways. It is enough to turn one's stomach. I was already feeling rather ill from the bus ride over. It was an odd mixture of revulsion and fascination, which is, I am sure, the feeling that most got from walking in there... probably the entire purpose. I just felt sorry for all the kids going in there with their parents.
(And now on to something completely different...) The other night we watched the bronze pour. That, my friends, was exciting. They had been preparing for it all weekend. They had to do a burn out, first. This is when, once the wax pieces are set inside a plaster and brick dust mixture, all of the wax is burned away leaving a hallow mold in which to pour the bronze. This took three days of watching the flame/temperature, making sure that it did not go out or vary. Then they melted the bronze and poured it. It was spectacular. I didn't get any pictures, but there will be another bronze pour on Friday night, so maybe I'll get some pictures then.
It's crunch time. We are getting ready for our exhibition and all of our classes are winding up. This means that I have a test and a paper on Friday and on top of that, I should be working very hard on The Boyfriend. Oddly, my "downtime" right now consists of drawing, which I find ironic since I find drawing very frustrating. My final project in drawing is... drawing people sleeping... like actually sleeping. Not just modeling as sleeping, but in their beds... sleeping. This means that I have to either wait until they are asleep, or do as I did this morning and get up at 6:30 to catch some of my friends asleep. Don't worry, I asked permission about twenty times to do so. It's kind of an awkward assignment I have chosen for myself, but I like it.
ok... should be in Italian right now (blah)...
I did not know what kind of festival it was until Gino got us into the car and we left for Preggio. Apparently, he'd forgotten what kind of festival it was until that morning.
Castagne, my friends, is Italian for chestnut. As mentioned in the previous blog, I am allergic to chestnuts. I broke out in hives in second grade on Christmas Eve and found out that Santa was not real... it's ok, I just remember being to itchy to care that my parents were stuffing my stocking.
Since then, my curiosity has been satisfied as to the flavor and nature of this curious dark brown nut. But it is very difficult to explain to someone who does not speak English that the reason that I was not participating in the wonders of chestnuttery was not because I was being picky or a fussy American, but that simply I could not eat them. So I just lived with Gino calling me a "fussy American woman."
My roommate, dear Grace, the same weekend went to the International Chocolate Festival in Perugia. I can't completely say that I am jealous (no sarcasm. Honest.) Apparently, as it was the first weekend of the festival, it was over packed and there was not much variety in the kinds of chocolate they had. In other words, she said that most booths sold the exact same brands. She did buy some Italian Hot Chocolate. Italian Hot Chocolate is very different from American Hot Chocolate. American Hot Chocolate is like... flavored water in comparison. Italian Hot Chocolate is basically hot chocolate pudding. It thick, frothy and amazing.
It's ok. I am glad I went to the Castagne Festival. I still had fun, I just couldn't eat much there. We did finally find something without chestnut in it, lamb on a skewer. I enjoyed it thoroughly.
About food here, big surprise, everything is Italian food. (Duh, you're in ITALY! Enjoy the food while you can!) But friends, there is only so many ways that one can fix pasta, and I have had them all here, I am sure. Actually, everyone is getting sick of Italian food. I broke down last week and bought a pack of Oreos (they come in boxes of four packs... this is nice because that way one does not serial eat Oreos). This week, people were making hamburgers and steaks in the kitchen We don't get steak a whole lot at Tonino's (the place we eat every night), so everyone who was not a vegetarian was drooling over the variety of red meat in the kitchen this last weekend.
I personally made some chili. It was slightly too spicy, but I enjoyed it anyway. I didn't get many takers on it though :\ It isn't really all that much fun to cook for oneself I learned. There has to be someone to enjoy it. It's like art. Art for oneself has a place, but usually it is restricted to sketchbooks and journals, where it's more of a processing than actual 'art.' Art is meant to be enjoyed by more than one person.
And now for this weekend. I've gotten really bad at taking pictures on this trip. It's difficult since all of the places seem to run together and there are very few that really stand out in my mind. This last weekend we went to Voltarra and San Gimigiano. I think that San Gimigiano will definitely forever stand out in my mind. First place, it is the location of "The World's Best Gelato." No joke. This place has won the World Gelato Competition two years running. I must say, it was pretty good gelato (but again, I am really over gelato, also. Give me Ben and Jerry's. Please.)
Second, it is the home of not one, but two Museums of Torture. We went to both. I thought it would be a fun Halloween activity. Friends, I do not recommend them. It sounded so cool at the beginning... until you realize that people actually were tortured in these ways and are still tortured in some of the ways displayed. The best/worst part were all the wax figures that were being mutilated in various ways. It is enough to turn one's stomach. I was already feeling rather ill from the bus ride over. It was an odd mixture of revulsion and fascination, which is, I am sure, the feeling that most got from walking in there... probably the entire purpose. I just felt sorry for all the kids going in there with their parents.
(And now on to something completely different...) The other night we watched the bronze pour. That, my friends, was exciting. They had been preparing for it all weekend. They had to do a burn out, first. This is when, once the wax pieces are set inside a plaster and brick dust mixture, all of the wax is burned away leaving a hallow mold in which to pour the bronze. This took three days of watching the flame/temperature, making sure that it did not go out or vary. Then they melted the bronze and poured it. It was spectacular. I didn't get any pictures, but there will be another bronze pour on Friday night, so maybe I'll get some pictures then.
It's crunch time. We are getting ready for our exhibition and all of our classes are winding up. This means that I have a test and a paper on Friday and on top of that, I should be working very hard on The Boyfriend. Oddly, my "downtime" right now consists of drawing, which I find ironic since I find drawing very frustrating. My final project in drawing is... drawing people sleeping... like actually sleeping. Not just modeling as sleeping, but in their beds... sleeping. This means that I have to either wait until they are asleep, or do as I did this morning and get up at 6:30 to catch some of my friends asleep. Don't worry, I asked permission about twenty times to do so. It's kind of an awkward assignment I have chosen for myself, but I like it.
ok... should be in Italian right now (blah)...
Monday, October 12, 2009
Over a Sea of Clouds
(This is a long one, but I promise... it's worth it. It even has pictures! Read it on a break or something...)
Sunday, for me, seems to be the best day here. All good things happen on Sunday. This weekend, we stayed in Cortona... well, most of us did. Groups of people went elsewhere, but I stayed in Cortona. It was nice, but I was feeling rather depressed. It seems to happen a lot to me on Saturdays. I thought maybe it was because we were traveling on Saturdays and thus had no downtime, and so Sunday always seemed cooler, comparatively, because we could finally take a break. Apparently, not so.
But anyway, on Sunday, we went to La Celle. This is the monastery where St. Francis lived. Grace and I woke up at 5:30 AM. I was almost convinced by my body not to wake up and go. But Grace convinced me that it was a good idea. So I dragged myself up and grabbed my camera and headed out to meet our Art History professor in La Piazza della Repubblica (the main steps of Cortona that are in movies and pictures...). It was all dark as we left the city walls and Orion was high up in the sky. (I found that he only comes out here in the very early morning. The rest of the time, he is below the horizon.) We started on our hike.
Lexi, my walking partner...
This is the valley just after sunrise
Friends, I don't know what is wrong with me, but I seem incapable of wearing sensible shoes on hikes. Like any true native Southern Californian, I love my sandals. Do I love any particular sandals? No. I love my flip-flops. These brown flip-flops have been where no flip-flop has any right to be. They told me not to wear them on our trip to the Roman Forum. Did I listen? No. I wore them anyway. They told me not to wear them in Carrara. Did I listen? No. I wore them anyway. They told me it was a forty-five minute hike to La Celle. I should have known to wear some sensible shoes. Did I? Not at all. My feet were free and breezy all morning. Now you are expecting to hear some terrible story about how I fell and twisted my ankle because I failed to wear proper foot gear. Gottcha! Haven't hurt anything yet... (Knock on wood.)
It has been very rainy so the clouds and mist had settled into the Tuscan Valley. We were above the cloud line though, so while it was clear, we got to look out over the blanket of mist settling into the crevices, with bright flecks of gold where streetlights were still shining. Then we got to La Celle. La Celle is extremely scenic. It is not hard to imagine how St. Francis got so close with nature. There is a waterfall which goes right through La Celle. They have a rose garden there and bridges. It's exactly how one would imagine a monastery to be, only prettier.
This is a waterfall inside La Celle.
We walked back with Lea, Devon (the other twin), Caitlin (a new friend) and Laura (the first person I met upon arrival in Italy). Fall definitely is in the air, and chestnuts have been falling off the trees. Chestnuts are weird. They fall off in spiky pods which break open to reveal the chestnut inside, which when you roast those, reveal the actual chestnut... nut. I get very antsy around chestnuts, though, because I'm allergic to them, but the other girls were excited to pick them up and play with the pods. We walked back much slower, and we were able to enjoy the Tuscan scenery. Looking down on the clouds was even better on the trip back. The sun was shining over the sea of clouds. It looked almost as if we were seeing the valley from an airplane, only there was foliage around us. It was breathtaking.
Later, Gino, our seventy-some year old gardener, took my roommate, Heather, who I roomed with in Rome and Florence, and myself to a festival in a town which is part of the brotherhood (?) of Cortona. (Towns are set up very differently here in Italy. They have regions, communes and then I think what they call 'brotherhoods.' Cortona is the capitol of this brotherhood, but part of the Arezzo commune, which is located in Tuscany.) Gino is an odd duck. He is kind of a mix between a creepy old man and a grandfather. He compliments all the ladies, sometimes a bit inappropriately (we chalk this up to Italian culture and very broken English), but at the same time, is always very helpful and kind. He owns a cat, named Bella, who he treats very affectionately. Bella loves Gino back and follows him everywhere. Bella also likes people in general and will often walk into the study room and fall asleep on the sofas, waiting for someone to pick her up and/or pet her. This makes me happy.
The festival was a lot of fun. It's harvest season, so there were a lot of people there. There were some people grape stomping, Grace and Heather bought a bottle of wine each (we all agreed it is pretty good, but then again, this wine is also practically just grape juice...) We bought bread and cheese and walked around. Gino insisted that I dance with him to one of the bands playing. He's a pretty good dancer, actually. He's the best leader I think I've had since the TA of my ballroom/swing class last fall. Gino also invited me to go dancing with him later this semester. I don't think I will... while he's a good dancer, it was kind of awkward.
Dancing with Gino...
It rained again today. It's been rainy and beautiful. I love rain. The wind has really picked up, making the windows fog and the clouds roll. Today, my drawing class took a field trip to a bar (cafe) where we drew one of my classmates. I drank cappuccino (becoming a serious addict) and we ate pizza, and listened to jazz. It was great. I feel like I did a very good job. It's nice to feel good about one's art.
Our model and fellow student, Rory
I don't think I'll ever get over how beautiful God's creation is. Truly, He is the greatest artist of all.
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
You have set your glory
above the heavens.
As an added plus... this is my Boyfriend. He's on his side in this picture.
This was taken last week... he currently doesn't look like this anymore.
I'm not going to show you pictures of the plaster model because I want it to be a surprise,
but if you all ask very nicely, I might put up pictures of the runners up.
(AKA the clay models of the ones I didn't do AKA my little Frankenstein's Monsters.)
Sunday, for me, seems to be the best day here. All good things happen on Sunday. This weekend, we stayed in Cortona... well, most of us did. Groups of people went elsewhere, but I stayed in Cortona. It was nice, but I was feeling rather depressed. It seems to happen a lot to me on Saturdays. I thought maybe it was because we were traveling on Saturdays and thus had no downtime, and so Sunday always seemed cooler, comparatively, because we could finally take a break. Apparently, not so.
But anyway, on Sunday, we went to La Celle. This is the monastery where St. Francis lived. Grace and I woke up at 5:30 AM. I was almost convinced by my body not to wake up and go. But Grace convinced me that it was a good idea. So I dragged myself up and grabbed my camera and headed out to meet our Art History professor in La Piazza della Repubblica (the main steps of Cortona that are in movies and pictures...). It was all dark as we left the city walls and Orion was high up in the sky. (I found that he only comes out here in the very early morning. The rest of the time, he is below the horizon.) We started on our hike.
Lexi, my walking partner... I am a slow walker. I don't like walking very fast, and fortunately Lexi (one of the twins) doesn't either so she walked with me. It was nice, except that because it was so dark, we kept losing the rest of the group. The road was straight, so we couldn't really get lost. Unfortunately, Grace, who started with us, did. She likes to take pictures (and a lot of them) so she often falls behind. She told me she had a lovely adventure on her own, though.
Cortona from a distance
Cortona from a distance
This is the valley just after sunriseIt has been very rainy so the clouds and mist had settled into the Tuscan Valley. We were above the cloud line though, so while it was clear, we got to look out over the blanket of mist settling into the crevices, with bright flecks of gold where streetlights were still shining. Then we got to La Celle. La Celle is extremely scenic. It is not hard to imagine how St. Francis got so close with nature. There is a waterfall which goes right through La Celle. They have a rose garden there and bridges. It's exactly how one would imagine a monastery to be, only prettier.
This is a waterfall inside La Celle. Naturally, there isn't any water right now, but I thought it was a cool pic.
Pretty vines...
Some friends in the courtyard of La Celle
We went to Mass... that was a bit of a let down. Lea, my art history professor thought there was going to be chanting. Not much chanting. It was very... anti-climatic. But that's ok, because then we got to walk home.
Pretty vines...
Some friends in the courtyard of La CelleWe walked back with Lea, Devon (the other twin), Caitlin (a new friend) and Laura (the first person I met upon arrival in Italy). Fall definitely is in the air, and chestnuts have been falling off the trees. Chestnuts are weird. They fall off in spiky pods which break open to reveal the chestnut inside, which when you roast those, reveal the actual chestnut... nut. I get very antsy around chestnuts, though, because I'm allergic to them, but the other girls were excited to pick them up and play with the pods. We walked back much slower, and we were able to enjoy the Tuscan scenery. Looking down on the clouds was even better on the trip back. The sun was shining over the sea of clouds. It looked almost as if we were seeing the valley from an airplane, only there was foliage around us. It was breathtaking.
Later, Gino, our seventy-some year old gardener, took my roommate, Heather, who I roomed with in Rome and Florence, and myself to a festival in a town which is part of the brotherhood (?) of Cortona. (Towns are set up very differently here in Italy. They have regions, communes and then I think what they call 'brotherhoods.' Cortona is the capitol of this brotherhood, but part of the Arezzo commune, which is located in Tuscany.) Gino is an odd duck. He is kind of a mix between a creepy old man and a grandfather. He compliments all the ladies, sometimes a bit inappropriately (we chalk this up to Italian culture and very broken English), but at the same time, is always very helpful and kind. He owns a cat, named Bella, who he treats very affectionately. Bella loves Gino back and follows him everywhere. Bella also likes people in general and will often walk into the study room and fall asleep on the sofas, waiting for someone to pick her up and/or pet her. This makes me happy.
The festival was a lot of fun. It's harvest season, so there were a lot of people there. There were some people grape stomping, Grace and Heather bought a bottle of wine each (we all agreed it is pretty good, but then again, this wine is also practically just grape juice...) We bought bread and cheese and walked around. Gino insisted that I dance with him to one of the bands playing. He's a pretty good dancer, actually. He's the best leader I think I've had since the TA of my ballroom/swing class last fall. Gino also invited me to go dancing with him later this semester. I don't think I will... while he's a good dancer, it was kind of awkward.
Dancing with Gino...It rained again today. It's been rainy and beautiful. I love rain. The wind has really picked up, making the windows fog and the clouds roll. Today, my drawing class took a field trip to a bar (cafe) where we drew one of my classmates. I drank cappuccino (becoming a serious addict) and we ate pizza, and listened to jazz. It was great. I feel like I did a very good job. It's nice to feel good about one's art.
(because I'm sure you all have just been DYING to see what I've been doing... here's a sample)
Our model and fellow student, RoryPsalm 8
A psalm of David.
1 O LORD, our Lord,how majestic is your name in all the earth!
You have set your glory
above the heavens.
2 From the lips of children and infants
you have ordained praise
because of your enemies,
to silence the foe and the avenger.
3 When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
4 what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?
5 You made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
and crowned him with glory and honor.
6 You made him ruler over the works of your hands;
you put everything under his feet:
7 all flocks and herds,
and the beasts of the field,
8 the birds of the air,
and the fish of the sea,
all that swim the paths of the seas.
9 O LORD, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
As an added plus... this is my Boyfriend. He's on his side in this picture.
This was taken last week... he currently doesn't look like this anymore.
I'm not going to show you pictures of the plaster model because I want it to be a surprise,
but if you all ask very nicely, I might put up pictures of the runners up.
(AKA the clay models of the ones I didn't do AKA my little Frankenstein's Monsters.)
Thursday, October 1, 2009
What things may come!
Oh friends, I am so excited. Many exciting things happened this week. Thus the excitement.
First, we shall start with Sunday... which really started on Saturday. My dear roommate, Grace, has the most fantastic voice. She has also been going through a difficult time with something that happened to her before coming to Cortona which really was wreaking havoc upon her spiritual life. She had a revelation that we should all, as Christians, come together and have our own sort of worship service on Sundays since all the churches here are Catholic and in Italian.
She also had the revelation that we have not only to realize that God has given us grace, but accept it. It was exciting that she was excited about it. I hadn't seen her so happy or at peace since being here. I was encouraged. God's grace is something I definitely have issues with. We had a mini worship jam in our room. I think it's so cool. We have pretty similar ideas about what worship should be: fairly organic and as not showy or about me as possible.
We spent all of Sunday together for some serious roommate bonding time. There was an antique market in town. Grace, I found, loves antiques. I kept losing her among the perfume bottles and old photographs. I found a pair of antique leather boots for 20 euro. My sister will be tremendously jealous when she sees them. They look about like a pair of hers, only older and with a slightly higher lift... and definitely cheaper.
A dark cloud set on our day though as we were walking back, one of our professors approached us and told us that a tourist had died right in front of our dormitory, just a few hours before we started back. Several students were witness to the occasion and had been there as our resident artist tried to revive the man. He was 80 years old and here with his wife, who was invited inside as several students tried to comfort her. Many students were very shaken by that event. I would have been too, I'm sure, if we had been there.
Grace and I met Pecos, another student from Westmont, at the top of the hill. We had a long conversation about what happened and about life and God. A psychiatrist from a nearby town came by yesterday and talked to the students. I wasn't there, but I heard it was a good time of sharing.
Now for some fun stuff, on Monday, we cast our plaster models for sculpture. Then on Tuesday, I had the privilege of breaking my plaster mold loose from his plastery bonds. Oh, the excitement my friends! To see my model coming loose from all the rubble, seeing an arm emerge, then another, then another... then the head... oh it was so exciting! It was like he was being given air after being submerged under water for a long time, almost as if he were coming to life.
And THEN, (really... this has been quite the week...) on Wednesday, we cut and stomped grapes from our vineyards. That's right, I wore a pair of shorts and a tank top, got to cut beautiful green-white grapes with peachy colored veins in thick, succulent bunches, off their vines into crates and from the crates into a huge bucket (it can fit up to... five? Grown men...) with a spigot and squished them with my feet. It was disgusting and amazing. They don't really squish between your toes as you might think they do, no, it all just seems to instantly turn to juice, even though all the stems and seeds are there. They brought sandwiches, pizza, potato chips and pesto from town. We ate them and had an amazing time of togetherness.
The fun doesn't end there, my friends. Oh no. Today, we got our stones! YES! We got our beautiful alabaster stones on which we will be working for the next month. Good heavens! I cannot tell you how excited I am. My hand currently is sporting a blister and a bruise from where I held the hammer, but friends, I could not, I think, be happier than at this moment. I am currently calling him my "boyfriend" since he did give me a huge rock. He is amazing, my rock. He is, I think, the biggest rock in the group, and very heavy. But how exciting! I chipped away at the bottom of him all day.
Oh wait! Not all day. No. Today, my friends, I also had my very first experience with figure drawing... the nude kind. It was not bad at all. I rather enjoyed it actually. I got to draw with vines charcoal and I love drawing with vines. I have decided that I don't mind drawing so long as I get to draw with either charcoal or pen. For some reason, I just like those mediums better than graphite. Graphite pales in comparison.
It has been a great week thus far, and it isn't even over. Tomorrow there is a Toga party for someone's birthday.... I think it sounds great. This afternoon, I also spent some time in our orchard with one of my friends. We have walnut trees and persimmon trees and fig trees and pear trees here... and the orchard ALSO has a fabulous view... I cannot tell you how blessed I am. Blessed blessed blessed.
I hope your week was as blessed as mine was.
First, we shall start with Sunday... which really started on Saturday. My dear roommate, Grace, has the most fantastic voice. She has also been going through a difficult time with something that happened to her before coming to Cortona which really was wreaking havoc upon her spiritual life. She had a revelation that we should all, as Christians, come together and have our own sort of worship service on Sundays since all the churches here are Catholic and in Italian.
She also had the revelation that we have not only to realize that God has given us grace, but accept it. It was exciting that she was excited about it. I hadn't seen her so happy or at peace since being here. I was encouraged. God's grace is something I definitely have issues with. We had a mini worship jam in our room. I think it's so cool. We have pretty similar ideas about what worship should be: fairly organic and as not showy or about me as possible.
We spent all of Sunday together for some serious roommate bonding time. There was an antique market in town. Grace, I found, loves antiques. I kept losing her among the perfume bottles and old photographs. I found a pair of antique leather boots for 20 euro. My sister will be tremendously jealous when she sees them. They look about like a pair of hers, only older and with a slightly higher lift... and definitely cheaper.
A dark cloud set on our day though as we were walking back, one of our professors approached us and told us that a tourist had died right in front of our dormitory, just a few hours before we started back. Several students were witness to the occasion and had been there as our resident artist tried to revive the man. He was 80 years old and here with his wife, who was invited inside as several students tried to comfort her. Many students were very shaken by that event. I would have been too, I'm sure, if we had been there.
Grace and I met Pecos, another student from Westmont, at the top of the hill. We had a long conversation about what happened and about life and God. A psychiatrist from a nearby town came by yesterday and talked to the students. I wasn't there, but I heard it was a good time of sharing.
Now for some fun stuff, on Monday, we cast our plaster models for sculpture. Then on Tuesday, I had the privilege of breaking my plaster mold loose from his plastery bonds. Oh, the excitement my friends! To see my model coming loose from all the rubble, seeing an arm emerge, then another, then another... then the head... oh it was so exciting! It was like he was being given air after being submerged under water for a long time, almost as if he were coming to life.
And THEN, (really... this has been quite the week...) on Wednesday, we cut and stomped grapes from our vineyards. That's right, I wore a pair of shorts and a tank top, got to cut beautiful green-white grapes with peachy colored veins in thick, succulent bunches, off their vines into crates and from the crates into a huge bucket (it can fit up to... five? Grown men...) with a spigot and squished them with my feet. It was disgusting and amazing. They don't really squish between your toes as you might think they do, no, it all just seems to instantly turn to juice, even though all the stems and seeds are there. They brought sandwiches, pizza, potato chips and pesto from town. We ate them and had an amazing time of togetherness.
The fun doesn't end there, my friends. Oh no. Today, we got our stones! YES! We got our beautiful alabaster stones on which we will be working for the next month. Good heavens! I cannot tell you how excited I am. My hand currently is sporting a blister and a bruise from where I held the hammer, but friends, I could not, I think, be happier than at this moment. I am currently calling him my "boyfriend" since he did give me a huge rock. He is amazing, my rock. He is, I think, the biggest rock in the group, and very heavy. But how exciting! I chipped away at the bottom of him all day.
Oh wait! Not all day. No. Today, my friends, I also had my very first experience with figure drawing... the nude kind. It was not bad at all. I rather enjoyed it actually. I got to draw with vines charcoal and I love drawing with vines. I have decided that I don't mind drawing so long as I get to draw with either charcoal or pen. For some reason, I just like those mediums better than graphite. Graphite pales in comparison.
It has been a great week thus far, and it isn't even over. Tomorrow there is a Toga party for someone's birthday.... I think it sounds great. This afternoon, I also spent some time in our orchard with one of my friends. We have walnut trees and persimmon trees and fig trees and pear trees here... and the orchard ALSO has a fabulous view... I cannot tell you how blessed I am. Blessed blessed blessed.
I hope your week was as blessed as mine was.
Monday, September 21, 2009
The Stuff That Gods Are Made Of.
So, I was going to tell you all a very boring story about how I inadvertently got myself 'stoned' by mixing travel meds (that's actually a very clever pun, if you read the rest of this blog) but I won't bore you (yet another one...) with such heavy stuff (a third, but I really pushed that one.)
So, now you are thinking, what the deuce is this woman talking about? 'Stoned'? Bore? HEAVY STUFF??? Well, quarry (wink, wink) no longer, my friends, today we went to (drum roll, please) CARRARA!!!...
What? No roaring applause? Sigh. Carrara... as in Carrara marble? I can still see the stony looks on your faces. It's ok. I didn't know what the heck it was before, either. Carrara, my friends, is where they quarry some of the best and most expensive white marble in the world. It's the marble that Michelangelo used for his sculptures. (Now you're getting it.)
It was just a little beyond fantastic. I vote it one of the top three field trips we've had thus far. I'm not sure what I've voted as the other two yet, so as far as I am currently concerned, it could very well be the first on that list. It was amazing. First place, it's a Monday. I didn't have to go to drawing... which was nice. Second, Carrara is beautiful. The mountains is literally carved into the shape that they are. The white marble gravel which comes off during the quarry process gleams in the sunlight and looks like snow cascaded down the hillside.
Last week, when they announced the field trip to Carrara, I was unsure whether I wanted to go. As many of you (aka, anyone who's ever ridden with me in a moving vehicle) knows, I get very motion sick very easily. The weekend before last, I had the pleasure of getting sick in front of an entire bus full of my new peers and professors. If anyone of you have ever had that experience, you will know that it isn't the most glamourous experience you will ever have. If you haven't, imagine the sheer horror and humiliation of it. They explained the significance of Carrara, but they certainly did not do it justice. I did not really want to get on a bus at six in the morning to drive to a quarry where I would most likely have to climb some gargantuan mountain to be blinded by a bunch of really old white rock.
Fortunately, as I mentioned before, I did find an interesting mix of travel medication which allowed me not to get sick at all. Unfortunately, the mix that I tried the first time did almost convince me to fall asleep in the middle of a museum. I toned down the medications and was able to sleep off most of it in the three hours that it took to drive to Carrara.
We got to Carrara at nine in the morning. The heavy mist was sliced cleanly by the gray-white precipice of one of the Carrara's mountains. The closer we got, the more magnificent the mountain became before us. It was chiseled and jagged, but it reminded me of a color an Ansel Adams photograph.
So I'm not Ansel Adams, and this was taken in a moving vehicle.
However, I think it's pretty stunning, nonetheless. All that white stuff is marble.
We were allowed to get a quick breakfast (Cappuccino and cold pizza... yum. Actually, it wasn't bad... it wasn't great, but it wasn't bad. Nevermind, I was sleepy and hungry... it was probably terrible.) and then we went to an artists' studio there in Carrara. This studio was interesting. It oddly wasn't all artists working on their own pieces. Apparently, when you get well known enough or if someone needs a piece done, but doesn't usually work in sculpture or with stone carving, they can commission someone else to do the dirty work for them and then come and oversee the final stages of the sculpture. That's right! Weird, huh? I suppose it makes sense. I imagine it is difficult to wield high-powered drilling and chiseling devices and it only takes a concept. It seems sort of like cheating, but I found the process interesting.
The artist makes a miniature plaster model of the sculpture. The workmen then place primary points (several prominent reference points on the highest parts of the model) and secondary points (a bunch more smaller points they can use for measurements) and then either enlarge or sculpt exactly the same size when cutting it into the stone using measurement devices. These measurement devices allow the workmen to know exactly how deep to cut when reproducing the sculpture. When the sculpture gets very close to being done, the management calls in the artist to oversee the finishing stages, such as refining edges and polishing the stone.
You can't really see it in this one, but there are little dots all over the one in the front.
That's the plaster sculpture. The one in the back is marble.
This is a better example. Apparently, this is a very famous artist.
But I haven't yet taken 20th C. art, so I don't remember who it is.
If you know, please enlighten us.
Again, the plaster mold is the one in the front. The marble is the one in the back.
The marble here is from Portugal, not Carrara. Carrara only quarries grades of white and gray marble.
There was another section of the studio where artists were working on their own pieces. Apparently, people come from all over the world to work in these studios in Carrara.
After the studio, we went to a store where some of the professors bought drilling bits and supplies for the classes. Then we went to lunch. I must say, I was happy to eat lunch today. We went to find a street vendor before all the vendors closed and went for siesta. We found a vendor that sold chicken. Mmm chicken. I got a half a chicken. It was delicious. Don't worry, the chicken was small. And I was hungry. We reverted back to our hunter-gatherer instincts and devoured our chicken with carnivorous bliss. There were at least seven of us camped out on the sidewalk eating our chicken halves. My vegetarian roommate happened upon us and was thoroughly disgusted. But, she stated, the chicken wasn't enough to come between her and loving us... or something to that effect.
A few friends and I enjoying lunch on the sidewalk
My lovely roommate, Grace.
That process is pretty cool, too. They use a flat drilling machine to drill underneath a cut of rock. The drill is shaped like a huge, five meter chainsaw. As it moves, workers wedge pieces of cobblestone under the enormous marble slab to keep it from touching the ground. They then drill above the rock, three feet from the ceiling. This rock in between the slab they wish to remove and the ceiling, they chip out and destroy to become marble dust and gravel useful in industrial projects. Then they drill holes all the way down to the bottom of the marble slab (these marble slabs have to be at least twenty meters high) through which they string a cable with diamond drilling beads. Using a machine, they use this to cut the marble away from the mountain (think of a giant fan belt used for cutting).
Once this is done, they place what is called an iron pillow between the slab and the mountain. It is two sheets of iron welded at the edges. They then fill the iron pillows with water to separate the slab from the mountain. They then let the massive slab drop onto a bed of cobblestone. If it has a fault, the slab cracks. They obviously dislike when this happens, since the mine works on commission and need certain sizes for the customer. But if it cracks, then they divide it up as best they can to usable parts and sell it.
My sculpture class in the mines.
After we finished the tour, we went home. We made it just in time for dinner.
When marble starts out, all it is is a bunch of calcium carbonate. It's a bunch of animal bones and organic matter that has been compacted and squeezed after millions and millions of years to become crystalline. It's a metamorphic rock. It's been put under many millions of years of pressure. I feel like this is a pretty good metaphor for life. We start out as nothing. A lump of organic matter. We have to die in a sense, get pushed and tried under deep pressure for us to change into something that God can use to do something amazing with. It's only then He can start chipping away at all the stone to show the beauty inside. I think that's what my life is about. Just sort of... being shaped into what it will be.
So, now you are thinking, what the deuce is this woman talking about? 'Stoned'? Bore? HEAVY STUFF??? Well, quarry (wink, wink) no longer, my friends, today we went to (drum roll, please) CARRARA!!!...
What? No roaring applause? Sigh. Carrara... as in Carrara marble? I can still see the stony looks on your faces. It's ok. I didn't know what the heck it was before, either. Carrara, my friends, is where they quarry some of the best and most expensive white marble in the world. It's the marble that Michelangelo used for his sculptures. (Now you're getting it.)
It was just a little beyond fantastic. I vote it one of the top three field trips we've had thus far. I'm not sure what I've voted as the other two yet, so as far as I am currently concerned, it could very well be the first on that list. It was amazing. First place, it's a Monday. I didn't have to go to drawing... which was nice. Second, Carrara is beautiful. The mountains is literally carved into the shape that they are. The white marble gravel which comes off during the quarry process gleams in the sunlight and looks like snow cascaded down the hillside.
Last week, when they announced the field trip to Carrara, I was unsure whether I wanted to go. As many of you (aka, anyone who's ever ridden with me in a moving vehicle) knows, I get very motion sick very easily. The weekend before last, I had the pleasure of getting sick in front of an entire bus full of my new peers and professors. If anyone of you have ever had that experience, you will know that it isn't the most glamourous experience you will ever have. If you haven't, imagine the sheer horror and humiliation of it. They explained the significance of Carrara, but they certainly did not do it justice. I did not really want to get on a bus at six in the morning to drive to a quarry where I would most likely have to climb some gargantuan mountain to be blinded by a bunch of really old white rock.
Fortunately, as I mentioned before, I did find an interesting mix of travel medication which allowed me not to get sick at all. Unfortunately, the mix that I tried the first time did almost convince me to fall asleep in the middle of a museum. I toned down the medications and was able to sleep off most of it in the three hours that it took to drive to Carrara.
We got to Carrara at nine in the morning. The heavy mist was sliced cleanly by the gray-white precipice of one of the Carrara's mountains. The closer we got, the more magnificent the mountain became before us. It was chiseled and jagged, but it reminded me of a color an Ansel Adams photograph.
So I'm not Ansel Adams, and this was taken in a moving vehicle.However, I think it's pretty stunning, nonetheless. All that white stuff is marble.
We were allowed to get a quick breakfast (Cappuccino and cold pizza... yum. Actually, it wasn't bad... it wasn't great, but it wasn't bad. Nevermind, I was sleepy and hungry... it was probably terrible.) and then we went to an artists' studio there in Carrara. This studio was interesting. It oddly wasn't all artists working on their own pieces. Apparently, when you get well known enough or if someone needs a piece done, but doesn't usually work in sculpture or with stone carving, they can commission someone else to do the dirty work for them and then come and oversee the final stages of the sculpture. That's right! Weird, huh? I suppose it makes sense. I imagine it is difficult to wield high-powered drilling and chiseling devices and it only takes a concept. It seems sort of like cheating, but I found the process interesting.
The artist makes a miniature plaster model of the sculpture. The workmen then place primary points (several prominent reference points on the highest parts of the model) and secondary points (a bunch more smaller points they can use for measurements) and then either enlarge or sculpt exactly the same size when cutting it into the stone using measurement devices. These measurement devices allow the workmen to know exactly how deep to cut when reproducing the sculpture. When the sculpture gets very close to being done, the management calls in the artist to oversee the finishing stages, such as refining edges and polishing the stone.
You can't really see it in this one, but there are little dots all over the one in the front.That's the plaster sculpture. The one in the back is marble.
This is a better example. Apparently, this is a very famous artist.But I haven't yet taken 20th C. art, so I don't remember who it is.
If you know, please enlighten us.
Again, the plaster mold is the one in the front. The marble is the one in the back.
The marble here is from Portugal, not Carrara. Carrara only quarries grades of white and gray marble.
There was another section of the studio where artists were working on their own pieces. Apparently, people come from all over the world to work in these studios in Carrara.
After the studio, we went to a store where some of the professors bought drilling bits and supplies for the classes. Then we went to lunch. I must say, I was happy to eat lunch today. We went to find a street vendor before all the vendors closed and went for siesta. We found a vendor that sold chicken. Mmm chicken. I got a half a chicken. It was delicious. Don't worry, the chicken was small. And I was hungry. We reverted back to our hunter-gatherer instincts and devoured our chicken with carnivorous bliss. There were at least seven of us camped out on the sidewalk eating our chicken halves. My vegetarian roommate happened upon us and was thoroughly disgusted. But, she stated, the chicken wasn't enough to come between her and loving us... or something to that effect.
A few friends and I enjoying lunch on the sidewalk
My lovely roommate, Grace.Then, my friends, we went to a marble mine. They don't only quarry marble in Carrara, they also mine for marble. What's the difference, you ask? A quarry is outside, a mine is inside. We drove 600 hundred meters through a long Indiana Jones-eque tunnel to come to this mine. It was wet and cold down there apparently, the temperature never changes and stays at about 18 degrees Celsius year round. The humidity changes in the summer, but that's about it. It's also very damp in the mine, not only because they use a lot of hydraulics, but because the water seeps down through the ground from the mountain above (400 meters). We were, as the guide described it, in the very center of the mountain. 600 meters from either end of the mountain, 400 meters above us and 400 meters above sea level.
That process is pretty cool, too. They use a flat drilling machine to drill underneath a cut of rock. The drill is shaped like a huge, five meter chainsaw. As it moves, workers wedge pieces of cobblestone under the enormous marble slab to keep it from touching the ground. They then drill above the rock, three feet from the ceiling. This rock in between the slab they wish to remove and the ceiling, they chip out and destroy to become marble dust and gravel useful in industrial projects. Then they drill holes all the way down to the bottom of the marble slab (these marble slabs have to be at least twenty meters high) through which they string a cable with diamond drilling beads. Using a machine, they use this to cut the marble away from the mountain (think of a giant fan belt used for cutting).
Once this is done, they place what is called an iron pillow between the slab and the mountain. It is two sheets of iron welded at the edges. They then fill the iron pillows with water to separate the slab from the mountain. They then let the massive slab drop onto a bed of cobblestone. If it has a fault, the slab cracks. They obviously dislike when this happens, since the mine works on commission and need certain sizes for the customer. But if it cracks, then they divide it up as best they can to usable parts and sell it.
My sculpture class in the mines.After we finished the tour, we went home. We made it just in time for dinner.
When marble starts out, all it is is a bunch of calcium carbonate. It's a bunch of animal bones and organic matter that has been compacted and squeezed after millions and millions of years to become crystalline. It's a metamorphic rock. It's been put under many millions of years of pressure. I feel like this is a pretty good metaphor for life. We start out as nothing. A lump of organic matter. We have to die in a sense, get pushed and tried under deep pressure for us to change into something that God can use to do something amazing with. It's only then He can start chipping away at all the stone to show the beauty inside. I think that's what my life is about. Just sort of... being shaped into what it will be.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
When in Cortona
Do as the Cortonese do.
So yesterday, I did my first laundry by myself. Yes, friends, I did laundry. Laundry, you say, that's no big deal! I do laundry everyday! Yes, friends, but have you done laundry without the comfort of both a washer and dryer? Perhaps not. Maybe you've washed one of those "hand wash only" cashmere sweaters your fiance gave you on your two month anniversary last September, or perhaps a wayward pair of underwear, but try a weeks worth of laundry including underwear, shirts, socks and three pairs of jeans. That's not a whole lot, but it's way more than it sounds. Let me say this, my friends, I am grateful for the wondrousness of washing machines. I also give props to pioneers and washerwoman alike before the invention of washing machines. Ladies, you were, and I suppose they still exist somewhere so, are phenomenal.
It costs three euros to do wash your clothes here. They don't have dryers here, so everyone hangs their clothes out to dry. I thought I would be money savvy and just wash my clothes by hand. After all, I had all sorts of colors (mostly dark, but I have a few white and red things) and altogether it's only about one load of laundry. How hard can it be? Apparently, very hard. It's hard work leaning over that bathtub and agitating clothing. That part actually wasn't so hard, it was trying to get all the soap out that was hard.
Jeans like soap. They REALLY like soap. They like soap so much, they cling to it and refuse to let it go, even after four or five rinsings. It's like Rose and Jack on the Titanic. I'll never let go Soap! I'll never let go! And then you have to wring out your jeans. Do you know how hard it is to ring out a pair of jeans? I thought it wasn't that hard, until I had to do it five or six times for each pair of jeans because they WOULDN'T LET GO OF THE SOAP!!! All of my clothes are now dry, folded and in my drawer.
Alright, so that sounded a lot like complaining. Well, friends, that's because it was. Now for some not so complainy stuff.
I saw the most magnificent sunset yesterday. The sun was magenta going down over the mountains and the clouds framed that pink sun beautifully. Everyone else missed it, since they were at dinner. I felt lazy and went down late. It was fine, I didn't miss anything. They serve us three courses and I was just in time for the first course. (Pasta, meat and veggies, some sort of dessert or fruit).
Today was the first day of for-real classes. There was a sort of run through first day on Tuesday where we had an hour of each of our classes. This was the full on three hour a piece classes. I am, I must say, very excited for my stone carving class. We started with clay. I have to shape several smaller, simplified replicas of something I am going to make bigger and then carve in the near future. I am so very excited for my pieces. They are looking fantastic.
Drawing class is a different story. I am not good at drawing. That is, while I might be ok at drawing, I am certainly not the best at it and I don't enjoy drawing so much as say, painting. It is bad news to be an art major and not enjoy drawing. I don't enjoy drawing, I think as much because it's so tedious and for so little progress. Painting is tedious, but the results are obvious and quickly seen. I think this is why I like cooking. It's fast, the results are obvious, and I usually don't have to wait very long for results.
Speaking of cooking, I cooked in the kitchen here for the first time (first time using this kitchen, not the first time ever cooking in general. Just for clarification.) It was good. I was pleasantly surprised. I cooked a very simple chicken for a friend. I started with some oil out of a jar of dried tomatoes I bought (I love dried tomatoes) and sauteed some chopped onions and garlic another girl had left over from making salsa. Then I poured some more oil in and browned and fully cooked the chicken. I removed the chicken, salted and peppered it, then went back to the pan and de-glazed it with a little bit of orange juice and water. The chicken was amazing if I do say so myself.
Yesterday, I had to go shopping for groceries since we are on our own for lunch here. Buying cheese and such is expensive. Buying produce and noodles are not so expensive. This morning, I made my lunch. I sauteed onions and garlic, added red peppers, basil and tomatoes and let all of it cook down in a little bit of water. Then I salted and peppered it all. It was terrific. It is also amazing how such simple ingredients and really fundamental cooking can impress people so much. I surprised even me. Something that has really been bothering me actually, and I shouldn't let it bother me at all, since it isn't even my problem, but no one here knows how to make eggs properly. I don't even like eggs all that much and I know how to make them. You need a hot pan and lots of oil to make eggs right. They are all too impatient to have their eggs done and all end up with soggy eggs. Hey, if they like soggy eggs that stick to the pan, I guess it's their problem. It just bugs me. But I haven't said anything yet. And I don't intend to. I just intend to make eggs the right way and stun them all with with my culinary expertise.
My culinary expertise is about my only true useful talent I have to wow people with. I can't play the guitar or sing like some of the girls here can. My roommate has the most fantastic voice and she is not the only talented one. Grace and Jeska (the girl I made the chicken for) were hanging out in the common room being fantastic this evening. They can both play songs by memory or improvise as easily as reading a book. I am in awe at the beauty of their voices mingling. Jeska has an earthy sort of voice, a bit like Norah Jones with a little more of a speaking presence. Grace's voice is clear and strong, like the bells that ring every hour until dusk here. Combined with the guitar, it's almost a sensory overload.
Last night, there was a fire juggling troop here in Cortona. They were fantastic. I didn't get pictures because I wasn't expecting it. It was after dinner and we were making a visit to Cocoa. I'm not sure if I talked about Cocoa earlier. Cocoa is a gelato place here in town. Alessio, the owner, makes all of his own gelato. He makes the most excellent dark chocolate gelato you have ever tasted in your life. It's like a rich, dark chocolate bar melting in your mouth. He also makes little pastries for sale. My favorite is this small cake, that maybe isn't really a cake at all, but it's shaped like a cake. It is dark chocolate and it is sprinkled on top with cocoa powder. It is soft and melts instantly in your mouth into a creamy paradise that makes you feel warm and happy inside even though it's windy and cold. Alessio promised to break out the bubbly if the entire program came down one night. The entire program didn't make it, but most of us, and break out the bubbly he did. We had some very nice, very wet prosecco.
After the prosecco, we made our way to the town square where they were setting up for something. We saw a band set up, so we figured it would be some sort of jazz, or tribal music concert (they had big conga drums) how wrong we were. They had the most fantastic show of swirling fire and glass balls. My friend said it was pretty touristy. I didn't care. I loved it. I think I just like fire. My favorite part was when they lit a huge baton with fireworks sort of things at each end. It was pretty great.
(This was a few days ago. So... maybe 9/10? Yeah. That sounds about right.)
So yesterday, I did my first laundry by myself. Yes, friends, I did laundry. Laundry, you say, that's no big deal! I do laundry everyday! Yes, friends, but have you done laundry without the comfort of both a washer and dryer? Perhaps not. Maybe you've washed one of those "hand wash only" cashmere sweaters your fiance gave you on your two month anniversary last September, or perhaps a wayward pair of underwear, but try a weeks worth of laundry including underwear, shirts, socks and three pairs of jeans. That's not a whole lot, but it's way more than it sounds. Let me say this, my friends, I am grateful for the wondrousness of washing machines. I also give props to pioneers and washerwoman alike before the invention of washing machines. Ladies, you were, and I suppose they still exist somewhere so, are phenomenal.
It costs three euros to do wash your clothes here. They don't have dryers here, so everyone hangs their clothes out to dry. I thought I would be money savvy and just wash my clothes by hand. After all, I had all sorts of colors (mostly dark, but I have a few white and red things) and altogether it's only about one load of laundry. How hard can it be? Apparently, very hard. It's hard work leaning over that bathtub and agitating clothing. That part actually wasn't so hard, it was trying to get all the soap out that was hard.
Jeans like soap. They REALLY like soap. They like soap so much, they cling to it and refuse to let it go, even after four or five rinsings. It's like Rose and Jack on the Titanic. I'll never let go Soap! I'll never let go! And then you have to wring out your jeans. Do you know how hard it is to ring out a pair of jeans? I thought it wasn't that hard, until I had to do it five or six times for each pair of jeans because they WOULDN'T LET GO OF THE SOAP!!! All of my clothes are now dry, folded and in my drawer.
Alright, so that sounded a lot like complaining. Well, friends, that's because it was. Now for some not so complainy stuff.
I saw the most magnificent sunset yesterday. The sun was magenta going down over the mountains and the clouds framed that pink sun beautifully. Everyone else missed it, since they were at dinner. I felt lazy and went down late. It was fine, I didn't miss anything. They serve us three courses and I was just in time for the first course. (Pasta, meat and veggies, some sort of dessert or fruit).
Today was the first day of for-real classes. There was a sort of run through first day on Tuesday where we had an hour of each of our classes. This was the full on three hour a piece classes. I am, I must say, very excited for my stone carving class. We started with clay. I have to shape several smaller, simplified replicas of something I am going to make bigger and then carve in the near future. I am so very excited for my pieces. They are looking fantastic.
Drawing class is a different story. I am not good at drawing. That is, while I might be ok at drawing, I am certainly not the best at it and I don't enjoy drawing so much as say, painting. It is bad news to be an art major and not enjoy drawing. I don't enjoy drawing, I think as much because it's so tedious and for so little progress. Painting is tedious, but the results are obvious and quickly seen. I think this is why I like cooking. It's fast, the results are obvious, and I usually don't have to wait very long for results.
Speaking of cooking, I cooked in the kitchen here for the first time (first time using this kitchen, not the first time ever cooking in general. Just for clarification.) It was good. I was pleasantly surprised. I cooked a very simple chicken for a friend. I started with some oil out of a jar of dried tomatoes I bought (I love dried tomatoes) and sauteed some chopped onions and garlic another girl had left over from making salsa. Then I poured some more oil in and browned and fully cooked the chicken. I removed the chicken, salted and peppered it, then went back to the pan and de-glazed it with a little bit of orange juice and water. The chicken was amazing if I do say so myself.
Yesterday, I had to go shopping for groceries since we are on our own for lunch here. Buying cheese and such is expensive. Buying produce and noodles are not so expensive. This morning, I made my lunch. I sauteed onions and garlic, added red peppers, basil and tomatoes and let all of it cook down in a little bit of water. Then I salted and peppered it all. It was terrific. It is also amazing how such simple ingredients and really fundamental cooking can impress people so much. I surprised even me. Something that has really been bothering me actually, and I shouldn't let it bother me at all, since it isn't even my problem, but no one here knows how to make eggs properly. I don't even like eggs all that much and I know how to make them. You need a hot pan and lots of oil to make eggs right. They are all too impatient to have their eggs done and all end up with soggy eggs. Hey, if they like soggy eggs that stick to the pan, I guess it's their problem. It just bugs me. But I haven't said anything yet. And I don't intend to. I just intend to make eggs the right way and stun them all with with my culinary expertise.
My culinary expertise is about my only true useful talent I have to wow people with. I can't play the guitar or sing like some of the girls here can. My roommate has the most fantastic voice and she is not the only talented one. Grace and Jeska (the girl I made the chicken for) were hanging out in the common room being fantastic this evening. They can both play songs by memory or improvise as easily as reading a book. I am in awe at the beauty of their voices mingling. Jeska has an earthy sort of voice, a bit like Norah Jones with a little more of a speaking presence. Grace's voice is clear and strong, like the bells that ring every hour until dusk here. Combined with the guitar, it's almost a sensory overload.
Last night, there was a fire juggling troop here in Cortona. They were fantastic. I didn't get pictures because I wasn't expecting it. It was after dinner and we were making a visit to Cocoa. I'm not sure if I talked about Cocoa earlier. Cocoa is a gelato place here in town. Alessio, the owner, makes all of his own gelato. He makes the most excellent dark chocolate gelato you have ever tasted in your life. It's like a rich, dark chocolate bar melting in your mouth. He also makes little pastries for sale. My favorite is this small cake, that maybe isn't really a cake at all, but it's shaped like a cake. It is dark chocolate and it is sprinkled on top with cocoa powder. It is soft and melts instantly in your mouth into a creamy paradise that makes you feel warm and happy inside even though it's windy and cold. Alessio promised to break out the bubbly if the entire program came down one night. The entire program didn't make it, but most of us, and break out the bubbly he did. We had some very nice, very wet prosecco.
After the prosecco, we made our way to the town square where they were setting up for something. We saw a band set up, so we figured it would be some sort of jazz, or tribal music concert (they had big conga drums) how wrong we were. They had the most fantastic show of swirling fire and glass balls. My friend said it was pretty touristy. I didn't care. I loved it. I think I just like fire. My favorite part was when they lit a huge baton with fireworks sort of things at each end. It was pretty great.
(This was a few days ago. So... maybe 9/10? Yeah. That sounds about right.)
Saturday, September 5, 2009
My Cup Runneth Over
I cannot even begin to describe the joys of Cortona. Yesterday and today were wonderful days, and yesterday was such a blessing.
First place, when I woke up, it was not hot. This is amazing. Yes, that's right. Amazing. I cannot remember any time this week where it has not been hot, even at 6:00, when I have have been waking up all of this week for breakfast and then touring. Then I was able to talk to my mom, however brief. That was good.
Then, we went to The Academy. This is the home of Michelangelo's 'Slave' sculptures. These are all unfinished sculptures by Michelangelo commissioned for Pope Pious the somethingeth's tomb. I'm sure I shall learn that fact in the near future, I am simply too tired to look it up right now. I got a lovely lecture from my sculpture professor about the cut of the rock and it was fascinating to see what his masterpieces looked like in mid-process. I was also intrigued by the fact that he worked on many of them all at once. There were at least six unfinished sculptures there, all in mid-process. Then, at the end of that magnificent hallway, was, standing in all of his magnificent glory, David. He is VERY impressive up close. The way that he is framed by the architecture and lighting of the room is phenomenal and it allows his seventeen feet of height to seem even more staggering than it is.
May I just say here and now that the tourist industry in Italy loves Michelangelo's David. And not just all of David, one very particular part of David. That one part is very famous. It shows up on postcards, magnets, calendars, aprons, and my personal favorite, boxers. Yes, that is right. You can get David's most intimate parts emblazoned on the front of your shorts framed by the Italian red and green. Not only that, but upon taking a peek at the back of those particular pairs of pornographic paraphernalia, are David's rock-hard butt cheeks. I felt I needed to wash my eyes out with soap the first few times I saw those boxers.
Although oddly, while Michelangelo's David is certainly a man for the ladies, Donatello's David is actually probably more provocative. I never knew how actually both quite tall and how rather erotic that David is. That bronze sculpture is about four feet tall which is rather big for a bronze sculpture I feel. With his hat and sandals, it emphasizes his nakedness and thus, in a way, he is more naked than Michelangelo's David. His pose, off-centered with his hand at his hip is rather... sexy. According to my art history professor, this was done on purpose since at the time, the neo-platonic belief was that love was the most powerful force on earth. He is made to look erotic as a statement that not only God but Eros and Aphrodite were on his side as he slew Goliath. I can see why this sculpture caused quite the stir.
After The Academy, we were free to do what we wanted until we got on the bus. I'm fairly sure I didn't do much. The bus had been late that morning in picking up our luggage so we could walk about town free of our weights because sadly one of the bus drivers' son died in a car accident that morning, so they had to switch bus drivers. Then, once we all piled on the bus, two of our members went missing and did not show up for the bus. This was annoying as we had to wait for an hour and they did not show up and in the end, they had to catch a train. Apparently, this was a good thing, since one of these wayward members had to do CPR on someone who had overdosed on some sort of drug. She was rather shaken when she returned at dinner (I am not sure of the entire story).
On the way to Cortona, everyone sort of nodded off. It was silent in that bus. I joined in the silence through fields and fields of dead sunflowers. It's too late in the season, so all the sunflowers heads are bowed and dark, as if mourning the loss of summer.
Then we arrived in Cortona. Oh, Cortona. We were all terribly grateful just to be there. We were all sick of living out of suitcases and getting up everyday to visit some new museum. I don't know how the Europe Semester people manage it. I was sick of it after only a week. But Cortona is what one might call magical. It is on the side of a hill which overlooks the Tuscan valley. You would not believe how amazing the view is from my bedroom window. I wake up and there is Tuscany sprawled before me. And the wind! The glorious, wonderful wind! I missed wind. It was still and hot in Firenze and Rome, lacking in all wind. And here is wonderful Cortona with wonderful wind! There is really something magical about that wind. It gives Cortona the mystic quality that is present in "Under the Tuscan Sun." I can see how she was so quickly caught under the spell of Cortona in that movie.
Then we had an orientation and then we were paired up with roommates. In my college experience, a few of you know that I had miserable luck my first two years of college with roommates. Last year, I was blessed with one of the world's best roommates for me. She was, and truly is a brilliant individual and we made the best roommates. I honestly did not think I would get another chance at so wonderful a match. I was very apprehensive as I didn't know who I was rooming with. They told us to fill out preference sheets but I didn't really click with my roommates the first two days, so I didn't know with whom I would be paired. I am blessed to be rooming this semester with a delightful girl named Grace. Grace is an Biolian and an MK. She also has a fantastic voice. I think we will be very happy together.
Dear Grace has been very long-suffering already this semester. They lost her luggage and it ended up in Milan. It's in Cortona now, but she cannot get it until Monday morning as the post office is not open on Sunday. She's been running around in 8 euro dresses and very hot suede ankle-high boots.
The dorm is nice. We have people who come in to sweep, clean the bathrooms and make our beds every day, so I will be forced to keep my room clean so they can sweep, which shouldn't be too hard since I don't have a lot of stuff anyway (no comments please). I am one of the only students who gets internet in their room (which really isn't an advantage right now, because the internet upstairs is down). The only disadvantage is that I have to skype downstairs in a very echoey common room since in the past, students have abused the wonders of skype with gooshy boyfriend/girlfriend talk. So I guess there will be no very private conversations unless they are over chat. I love chat anyway.
Today was another fantastic day. They took us on a tour of the town. It was outrageously clear and breezy. After the tour I climbed the outrageous hill to the dormitory. I must say something about this hill. This hill is insane. When I say insane, I mean "it needs to go on all sorts of crazy pills and should probably be locked in somewhere with nice padded walls and straitjackets" insane. It goes almost straight up for about half a mile. Ok... so it doesn't go straight up... but from the bottom, you can't see the top of it not because there is any turns or because there are any trees or anything blocking the path, but because there is too much hill in the way. You see the top from about halfway up and then you feel the task is even worse, because while you can see the end, it isn't very encouraging. I have the privilege, nay, the pleasure, of hiking up this colossus at least once a day. I don't think I shall ever feel guilty for eating gelato anytime on this trip.
I spent the rest of the day in the lovely "French style" park in town and then watching Soccer with some new friends. There is a set of twins here. They are identical, but look different enough to tell them apart quickly and easily. Their personalities are different also and they are a lot of fun to hang out with. I tend to find myself hanging out with at least one of them most of the time.
I am fascinated by the different ideas flying around here. It's very different from Westmont in that you don't really know where everyone is coming from. Ok, so that's a generalized statement, but at Westmont, discussion about religion is open and acceptable. It's fairly open here, but the difference is that everyone is coming from very different backgrounds and many are coming from the American post-Christian world. I know a few people here are very into meditation and new agey sort of things. Yoga is one thing, but "transferring positive energy"? I don't know what to say of this. I don't think it's possible nor should be encouraged (Can anyone say "Franz Mesmer"?) and yet, it really isn't my place to tell them what is right or wrong. They don't believe as I do, so I can't really reprimand them. I guess I should just pray. Prayer is good and one can never go wrong with prayer.
Again, I'm sorry for the long blog. I am pleased to have such a positive response! I hope you all are enjoyin
g reading about my adventures.
This is the view from my room. Isn't it great?
First place, when I woke up, it was not hot. This is amazing. Yes, that's right. Amazing. I cannot remember any time this week where it has not been hot, even at 6:00, when I have have been waking up all of this week for breakfast and then touring. Then I was able to talk to my mom, however brief. That was good.
Then, we went to The Academy. This is the home of Michelangelo's 'Slave' sculptures. These are all unfinished sculptures by Michelangelo commissioned for Pope Pious the somethingeth's tomb. I'm sure I shall learn that fact in the near future, I am simply too tired to look it up right now. I got a lovely lecture from my sculpture professor about the cut of the rock and it was fascinating to see what his masterpieces looked like in mid-process. I was also intrigued by the fact that he worked on many of them all at once. There were at least six unfinished sculptures there, all in mid-process. Then, at the end of that magnificent hallway, was, standing in all of his magnificent glory, David. He is VERY impressive up close. The way that he is framed by the architecture and lighting of the room is phenomenal and it allows his seventeen feet of height to seem even more staggering than it is.
May I just say here and now that the tourist industry in Italy loves Michelangelo's David. And not just all of David, one very particular part of David. That one part is very famous. It shows up on postcards, magnets, calendars, aprons, and my personal favorite, boxers. Yes, that is right. You can get David's most intimate parts emblazoned on the front of your shorts framed by the Italian red and green. Not only that, but upon taking a peek at the back of those particular pairs of pornographic paraphernalia, are David's rock-hard butt cheeks. I felt I needed to wash my eyes out with soap the first few times I saw those boxers.
Although oddly, while Michelangelo's David is certainly a man for the ladies, Donatello's David is actually probably more provocative. I never knew how actually both quite tall and how rather erotic that David is. That bronze sculpture is about four feet tall which is rather big for a bronze sculpture I feel. With his hat and sandals, it emphasizes his nakedness and thus, in a way, he is more naked than Michelangelo's David. His pose, off-centered with his hand at his hip is rather... sexy. According to my art history professor, this was done on purpose since at the time, the neo-platonic belief was that love was the most powerful force on earth. He is made to look erotic as a statement that not only God but Eros and Aphrodite were on his side as he slew Goliath. I can see why this sculpture caused quite the stir.
After The Academy, we were free to do what we wanted until we got on the bus. I'm fairly sure I didn't do much. The bus had been late that morning in picking up our luggage so we could walk about town free of our weights because sadly one of the bus drivers' son died in a car accident that morning, so they had to switch bus drivers. Then, once we all piled on the bus, two of our members went missing and did not show up for the bus. This was annoying as we had to wait for an hour and they did not show up and in the end, they had to catch a train. Apparently, this was a good thing, since one of these wayward members had to do CPR on someone who had overdosed on some sort of drug. She was rather shaken when she returned at dinner (I am not sure of the entire story).
On the way to Cortona, everyone sort of nodded off. It was silent in that bus. I joined in the silence through fields and fields of dead sunflowers. It's too late in the season, so all the sunflowers heads are bowed and dark, as if mourning the loss of summer.
Then we arrived in Cortona. Oh, Cortona. We were all terribly grateful just to be there. We were all sick of living out of suitcases and getting up everyday to visit some new museum. I don't know how the Europe Semester people manage it. I was sick of it after only a week. But Cortona is what one might call magical. It is on the side of a hill which overlooks the Tuscan valley. You would not believe how amazing the view is from my bedroom window. I wake up and there is Tuscany sprawled before me. And the wind! The glorious, wonderful wind! I missed wind. It was still and hot in Firenze and Rome, lacking in all wind. And here is wonderful Cortona with wonderful wind! There is really something magical about that wind. It gives Cortona the mystic quality that is present in "Under the Tuscan Sun." I can see how she was so quickly caught under the spell of Cortona in that movie.
Then we had an orientation and then we were paired up with roommates. In my college experience, a few of you know that I had miserable luck my first two years of college with roommates. Last year, I was blessed with one of the world's best roommates for me. She was, and truly is a brilliant individual and we made the best roommates. I honestly did not think I would get another chance at so wonderful a match. I was very apprehensive as I didn't know who I was rooming with. They told us to fill out preference sheets but I didn't really click with my roommates the first two days, so I didn't know with whom I would be paired. I am blessed to be rooming this semester with a delightful girl named Grace. Grace is an Biolian and an MK. She also has a fantastic voice. I think we will be very happy together.
Dear Grace has been very long-suffering already this semester. They lost her luggage and it ended up in Milan. It's in Cortona now, but she cannot get it until Monday morning as the post office is not open on Sunday. She's been running around in 8 euro dresses and very hot suede ankle-high boots.
The dorm is nice. We have people who come in to sweep, clean the bathrooms and make our beds every day, so I will be forced to keep my room clean so they can sweep, which shouldn't be too hard since I don't have a lot of stuff anyway (no comments please). I am one of the only students who gets internet in their room (which really isn't an advantage right now, because the internet upstairs is down). The only disadvantage is that I have to skype downstairs in a very echoey common room since in the past, students have abused the wonders of skype with gooshy boyfriend/girlfriend talk. So I guess there will be no very private conversations unless they are over chat. I love chat anyway.
Today was another fantastic day. They took us on a tour of the town. It was outrageously clear and breezy. After the tour I climbed the outrageous hill to the dormitory. I must say something about this hill. This hill is insane. When I say insane, I mean "it needs to go on all sorts of crazy pills and should probably be locked in somewhere with nice padded walls and straitjackets" insane. It goes almost straight up for about half a mile. Ok... so it doesn't go straight up... but from the bottom, you can't see the top of it not because there is any turns or because there are any trees or anything blocking the path, but because there is too much hill in the way. You see the top from about halfway up and then you feel the task is even worse, because while you can see the end, it isn't very encouraging. I have the privilege, nay, the pleasure, of hiking up this colossus at least once a day. I don't think I shall ever feel guilty for eating gelato anytime on this trip.
I spent the rest of the day in the lovely "French style" park in town and then watching Soccer with some new friends. There is a set of twins here. They are identical, but look different enough to tell them apart quickly and easily. Their personalities are different also and they are a lot of fun to hang out with. I tend to find myself hanging out with at least one of them most of the time.
I am fascinated by the different ideas flying around here. It's very different from Westmont in that you don't really know where everyone is coming from. Ok, so that's a generalized statement, but at Westmont, discussion about religion is open and acceptable. It's fairly open here, but the difference is that everyone is coming from very different backgrounds and many are coming from the American post-Christian world. I know a few people here are very into meditation and new agey sort of things. Yoga is one thing, but "transferring positive energy"? I don't know what to say of this. I don't think it's possible nor should be encouraged (Can anyone say "Franz Mesmer"?) and yet, it really isn't my place to tell them what is right or wrong. They don't believe as I do, so I can't really reprimand them. I guess I should just pray. Prayer is good and one can never go wrong with prayer.
Again, I'm sorry for the long blog. I am pleased to have such a positive response! I hope you all are enjoyin
g reading about my adventures.
This is the view from my room. Isn't it great?
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Firenze!
Hey Ya'll!
So, first Blog since entering Italia! WOW what a crazy week this has been! I have seen many things I don't think I ever could have imagined seeing in my entire life. I have seen Michelangelo, Donatello, Raphael, Da Vinci and so much more. I have stood as close to Caravaggios as Caravaggios as he would have stood next to them himself. I could have reached out and touched them if I didn't know better. There is so much to tell about!
Let's start with Rome.
Rome was crazy hot. Imagine Westmont on moving day and then up it by about five degrees and then take away the chance to sit in nice cool places for hours, wear shorts and sleeveless shirts and the opportunity to shower in between classes and you'll get the idea. Walking everywhere has its literal ups and downs. I feel like I am getting very fit. Rome is also crazy expensive. It's like going to Disneyland for three days straight. I'm fairly sure they just take advantage of the fact that tourists have little grasp on the price of a euro (Powerade for 3 euros? Really? That's over four dollars) I also could not bear spending 5 euros for internet. It's a massive tourist trap and they know it. But enough complaining, let's talk about art!
We went to the Vatican Museum. It was pretty impressive. They had lots and lots of Madonnas with the Child, a hallway of sculpture busts and statues. Then you follow this long pathway to the Sistine Chapel. It's like a pilgrimage. Everyone is very focused on getting to the Sistine Chapel. They follow this long pathway with stops along the way at Raphael (School of Athens) and others, but mostly everyone is very focused on getting the the Sistine Chapel. I've said this twice because it bears repeating. Everyone is so focused, they miss things along the way, like the modern section for example. The stream of people pass right by it. There was a Francis Bacon and three Salvador Dali paintings that hundreds of people passed right by. Not even my group stopped to look. I was astounded to say the least. I wonder how often we do just that. We are so focused on our goal, we miss amazing things along the way.
The Sistine Chapel itself was amazing. We weren't allowed to take pictures and they kept having to tell everyone to be quiet, which was more disruptive than if people had been taking pictures or talking, but it was magnificent. I sat in awe at the ceiling.
We went to the Pantheon (which I found out means "Many gods"... small wonder) I also found there are many things wrong with the Pantheon (architecturally). Ask me later and I may remember. I went to the Trevi Fountain (you know, the one in Roman Holiday). I threw coins in out of tradition. Apparently, you're supposed to throw three in (I forget why, but I did it.) On that trip I also went to a church that had a crypt decorated with the bones of monks and martyrs. We couldn't take pictures and there is no way that anyone would believe it unless they saw it for themselves. It was eerie, but oddly not disturbing. It was reverent and strangely peaceful though completely macabre.
I also went on a tour of Rome at night with Marco, our Italian professor, who is a real Italian (Family joke... sorry). That was actually a chore. I wouldn't do it again. I'd already been to many of the sites before during the day, so it was sort of useless.
The next day I went to the Roman Forum. The part of it in which Julius Caesar was assassinated is now a cat sanctuary. That's right. It is protected for the cats of Rome. Old women use their own money and feed the cats there. But I believe that all the cats are spayed or neutered and have shots. So that's cool. I also went to the Coliseum, which was, to my surprise, created after the death of Nero. It was built by the Flavians who wanted to curry favor with the commoners since it was the Senate and not the commoners who hated Nero. Shocker, isn't it? I found out what a Triumphal arch is for. I also went to the Borghese Museum in Rome. There's only one word to describe that: INCREDIBLE. I saw Caravaggios from about a foot away and amazing sculptures by Bernini (thanks Fern! Stupid autocorrect... you fail.) that looked so real, it was almost as if they were simply actors frozen in time and would begin moving again if someone yelled 'action!'
Yesterday we arrived in Florence. I have nothing to say about Firenze except that I hate being slowly transformed into a morning person. I was practically falling asleep in dinner and it wasn't even nine o'clock. I am disgusted with myself.
Today was pretty great. We went to the Duomo and saw the doors of the Baptistery. We also went to the Uffizi Museum. THAT was incredible. There was the 'Primavera' and the 'Birth of Venus' by Botticelli. There was a Michelangelo, Raphael and some Leonardo Da Vinci paintings in there. There was also a few Rembrandts in there. There was also again, a few Caravaggios (really guys, I could gush all day about Caravaggios. They are WAY underrated and that is saying a lot.) And there was also "Judith Slaying Holofernes" by Artimesia Gentileschi. I think I just like chiaroscuro, guys.
The sculpture class also went on a detour to the Medici Chapel where some very famous Medicis were buried and also where Michelangelo has some very famous sculptures. I am astounded and amazed. I tried to find my way back from the art store and got lost. Fortunately, I had a map. I found my way back and here I am in a hotel lobby bragging about all the stuff I've done. I guess I should say something interesting here.
The streets are all cobblestone. I didn't know this. I thought that movie places just went to remote villages to really get that "Italian Feel" when filming so of course all the streets would be cobblestone. Not true. Almost all the streets in the heart of Rome were cobblestone and all the streets here in Florence are cobblestone. The only "regular" streets here are highways. All town streets are cobblestone. Similarly, all windows have shutters on them and many people really do hang clothes outside their rooms windows. "What is this? Really? Cool." was basically my reaction. I know I shouldn't be surprised, but I was nonetheless.
Something I noticed here is how little Americans know about Christianity. This is the first time I have encountered an art history professor who does not know basic theology and bible stories. I noticed this first when she said "Noah and the great fish" when talking about one of the frames in the Sistine Chapel. I thought "Noah? She means Jonah. That must be a slip up" (and actually, not to make fun, because she's actually a pretty smart person from what I can tell, but the name was right underneath "Ionas"... so... I don't know what went on there.) But today when she messed up with the story of the Magi and Herod, I had to correct her. And then I thought, I don't think she's ever actually read the Bible. What? Art history professor has never read the Bible. Even if you don't believe in it, you should at LEAST have read it if you're going to study art history. It's kind of a fundamental. But it doesn't stop there my friends, oh no. One of the fellows on my program whom I know to be a Christian did not know a Bible story I thought everyone knew. This makes me sad. What is wrong with us that we do not even know the Bible on an academic level?
Therefore, I have concluded to do something on my own part. I am on a mission. I am going to read all of the Bible. Perhaps not starting in Genesis and ending in Revelation, but I will read the whole thing. I should set myself a goal. Hmm. Well, how about this, by the end of the month of September I will read at least a Psalm every day and have finished Romans. Sound good? I think so. I'll tell you what happens.
Sorry for the long blog, but it's been a long week. I am going to go upstairs and take a shower to get off all this sticky sweat from today. It's still pretty hot, and it rained today, so it's also muggy. Yay! But I can't complain since I am going to the Marriage of Figaro tonight. I'm excited.
So, first Blog since entering Italia! WOW what a crazy week this has been! I have seen many things I don't think I ever could have imagined seeing in my entire life. I have seen Michelangelo, Donatello, Raphael, Da Vinci and so much more. I have stood as close to Caravaggios as Caravaggios as he would have stood next to them himself. I could have reached out and touched them if I didn't know better. There is so much to tell about!
Let's start with Rome.
Rome was crazy hot. Imagine Westmont on moving day and then up it by about five degrees and then take away the chance to sit in nice cool places for hours, wear shorts and sleeveless shirts and the opportunity to shower in between classes and you'll get the idea. Walking everywhere has its literal ups and downs. I feel like I am getting very fit. Rome is also crazy expensive. It's like going to Disneyland for three days straight. I'm fairly sure they just take advantage of the fact that tourists have little grasp on the price of a euro (Powerade for 3 euros? Really? That's over four dollars) I also could not bear spending 5 euros for internet. It's a massive tourist trap and they know it. But enough complaining, let's talk about art!
We went to the Vatican Museum. It was pretty impressive. They had lots and lots of Madonnas with the Child, a hallway of sculpture busts and statues. Then you follow this long pathway to the Sistine Chapel. It's like a pilgrimage. Everyone is very focused on getting to the Sistine Chapel. They follow this long pathway with stops along the way at Raphael (School of Athens) and others, but mostly everyone is very focused on getting the the Sistine Chapel. I've said this twice because it bears repeating. Everyone is so focused, they miss things along the way, like the modern section for example. The stream of people pass right by it. There was a Francis Bacon and three Salvador Dali paintings that hundreds of people passed right by. Not even my group stopped to look. I was astounded to say the least. I wonder how often we do just that. We are so focused on our goal, we miss amazing things along the way.
The Sistine Chapel itself was amazing. We weren't allowed to take pictures and they kept having to tell everyone to be quiet, which was more disruptive than if people had been taking pictures or talking, but it was magnificent. I sat in awe at the ceiling.
We went to the Pantheon (which I found out means "Many gods"... small wonder) I also found there are many things wrong with the Pantheon (architecturally). Ask me later and I may remember. I went to the Trevi Fountain (you know, the one in Roman Holiday). I threw coins in out of tradition. Apparently, you're supposed to throw three in (I forget why, but I did it.) On that trip I also went to a church that had a crypt decorated with the bones of monks and martyrs. We couldn't take pictures and there is no way that anyone would believe it unless they saw it for themselves. It was eerie, but oddly not disturbing. It was reverent and strangely peaceful though completely macabre.
I also went on a tour of Rome at night with Marco, our Italian professor, who is a real Italian (Family joke... sorry). That was actually a chore. I wouldn't do it again. I'd already been to many of the sites before during the day, so it was sort of useless.
The next day I went to the Roman Forum. The part of it in which Julius Caesar was assassinated is now a cat sanctuary. That's right. It is protected for the cats of Rome. Old women use their own money and feed the cats there. But I believe that all the cats are spayed or neutered and have shots. So that's cool. I also went to the Coliseum, which was, to my surprise, created after the death of Nero. It was built by the Flavians who wanted to curry favor with the commoners since it was the Senate and not the commoners who hated Nero. Shocker, isn't it? I found out what a Triumphal arch is for. I also went to the Borghese Museum in Rome. There's only one word to describe that: INCREDIBLE. I saw Caravaggios from about a foot away and amazing sculptures by Bernini (thanks Fern! Stupid autocorrect... you fail.) that looked so real, it was almost as if they were simply actors frozen in time and would begin moving again if someone yelled 'action!'
Yesterday we arrived in Florence. I have nothing to say about Firenze except that I hate being slowly transformed into a morning person. I was practically falling asleep in dinner and it wasn't even nine o'clock. I am disgusted with myself.
Today was pretty great. We went to the Duomo and saw the doors of the Baptistery. We also went to the Uffizi Museum. THAT was incredible. There was the 'Primavera' and the 'Birth of Venus' by Botticelli. There was a Michelangelo, Raphael and some Leonardo Da Vinci paintings in there. There was also a few Rembrandts in there. There was also again, a few Caravaggios (really guys, I could gush all day about Caravaggios. They are WAY underrated and that is saying a lot.) And there was also "Judith Slaying Holofernes" by Artimesia Gentileschi. I think I just like chiaroscuro, guys.
The sculpture class also went on a detour to the Medici Chapel where some very famous Medicis were buried and also where Michelangelo has some very famous sculptures. I am astounded and amazed. I tried to find my way back from the art store and got lost. Fortunately, I had a map. I found my way back and here I am in a hotel lobby bragging about all the stuff I've done. I guess I should say something interesting here.
The streets are all cobblestone. I didn't know this. I thought that movie places just went to remote villages to really get that "Italian Feel" when filming so of course all the streets would be cobblestone. Not true. Almost all the streets in the heart of Rome were cobblestone and all the streets here in Florence are cobblestone. The only "regular" streets here are highways. All town streets are cobblestone. Similarly, all windows have shutters on them and many people really do hang clothes outside their rooms windows. "What is this? Really? Cool." was basically my reaction. I know I shouldn't be surprised, but I was nonetheless.
Something I noticed here is how little Americans know about Christianity. This is the first time I have encountered an art history professor who does not know basic theology and bible stories. I noticed this first when she said "Noah and the great fish" when talking about one of the frames in the Sistine Chapel. I thought "Noah? She means Jonah. That must be a slip up" (and actually, not to make fun, because she's actually a pretty smart person from what I can tell, but the name was right underneath "Ionas"... so... I don't know what went on there.) But today when she messed up with the story of the Magi and Herod, I had to correct her. And then I thought, I don't think she's ever actually read the Bible. What? Art history professor has never read the Bible. Even if you don't believe in it, you should at LEAST have read it if you're going to study art history. It's kind of a fundamental. But it doesn't stop there my friends, oh no. One of the fellows on my program whom I know to be a Christian did not know a Bible story I thought everyone knew. This makes me sad. What is wrong with us that we do not even know the Bible on an academic level?
Therefore, I have concluded to do something on my own part. I am on a mission. I am going to read all of the Bible. Perhaps not starting in Genesis and ending in Revelation, but I will read the whole thing. I should set myself a goal. Hmm. Well, how about this, by the end of the month of September I will read at least a Psalm every day and have finished Romans. Sound good? I think so. I'll tell you what happens.
Sorry for the long blog, but it's been a long week. I am going to go upstairs and take a shower to get off all this sticky sweat from today. It's still pretty hot, and it rained today, so it's also muggy. Yay! But I can't complain since I am going to the Marriage of Figaro tonight. I'm excited.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
It's a start
Ok, so today is the day I start packing. I had a sad thought today. The room that I have been in since I was about three will now be empty. I could have said that when I left for college three years ago, but then, my sister was still inhabiting the room. Now, no one is going to be inhabiting the room. It will get all dusty and gross and no one will be in here. It will be a very vacant room.
Today, I pack. I should have been packing all this time, but I like to procrastinate as anyone who knows me will tell you plainly. I suppose I like the rush of it all. It's three days til leaving, but I am going up to Westmont on Thursday to part with my younger sister. It's going to be a rough week for my parents. I think my sister is going to have a blast though. I LOVED my first year of college and the first week was definitely the best week. (That's sort of a sad statement when you think about it, but that was only because we didn't really have school for four days, it was a lot of "let's have fun"ness)
Anyway... here I go to pack... wish me luck.
Today, I pack. I should have been packing all this time, but I like to procrastinate as anyone who knows me will tell you plainly. I suppose I like the rush of it all. It's three days til leaving, but I am going up to Westmont on Thursday to part with my younger sister. It's going to be a rough week for my parents. I think my sister is going to have a blast though. I LOVED my first year of college and the first week was definitely the best week. (That's sort of a sad statement when you think about it, but that was only because we didn't really have school for four days, it was a lot of "let's have fun"ness)
Anyway... here I go to pack... wish me luck.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)