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.

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.

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.)

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 enjoying reading about my adventures.


This is the view from my room. Isn't it great?

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.