Its been awhile, and unfortunatly...i just keep saying that. But time moves fast, and i have had to run along with her.
I left you last on Nov. 12, here we are on Nov. 25 and tomorrow the number on my countdown to the days until i re-enter the United States will begin with a 1, no longer even in the twenties. As you may imagine so much has happened since last i wrote and so i will hesitate no longer. ehh ummm *clear throat*
On the evening of the 12th i could be found sprinting to the grocery store with Steph in a last ditch effort to complete a project the following morning for my Italian life and culture class. We were required to bring a italian dish to the potluck the following morning at 10:30am. Once we flung through the doors, we discovered the inevitable problem that, well, we have learned some Italian while here, things like ''baking soda'' and ''almond extract'' were not exactly on our vocab list...so we decided to succumb to the problem and wake the following morning. Bright and early we were in the kitchen clanging away making biscotti. Since we never did find many of the ingrediants they ended up turing out like any typical cookie. That is after the entire batch slide off the cooking sheet while in the oven because it didnt fit. By any means however, they were good, and since we are in Italy and the classes are more relaxed that i have ever experiened we took the warning of our instructor ''just try, unless you poison me i usually give everyone A's'' to heart and continued to class.
The next afternoon for class we hiked to the oldest theatre in Florence and I was pleasantly suprised at how little of the translation I needed from our instructor as the women showing us around explained the history. We viewed the old visiting royals boxes and explored the bowels of teh building and the large crank that would elevate the ballroom floor for dances.
That evening Steph's mom ''Momma Misko'' flew in. I spent the evening being treating to dinner at a resturant, laughing and hearing stories about Steph that had her trying to hid behind the bread basket in embarrassment. Oh moms. To think that i had heard it all over Steph and I's late night discussions. Unfortunatly, Momma Miskos luggage was lost and she had more than her fair share of troubles attaining it again, which she didnt do so until the day before she left. Poor thing left Italy a little less then impressed, but had a admirable good attitude about the entire thing.
I returned to the Uffizi the next afternoon after my lone class of the day was over. She is quite a treasure, and held paintings that even i had forgotten she contained. Caravaggios and Durers especially. I wandered the halls for hours and returned to the city streets around dinner time. Walking through the doorway back home i suddenly remembered that John was coming over soon. Upon arrival we he unwrapped his guitar from its black case and the proceeding hours melted away as he and i gave our best shots to song after song. While i sing because i enjoy it, not necassarily because i am accomplished at it...John's case is very different. Not only very profficint on the guitar but i am pretty sure i could have continued to hear him sing for days without tiring. His enthusiasm and knowledge of music reminded me dearly of nights back home doing the same, gathered around a guitar or piano with friends. He left with my roomates for drinks that evening, and i awoke in the wee hours of the morning to the sound of pancakes cooking and John's voice wafting into the hallway. Peeking in the door i was greeted by warm smiles from all, a little abashed at waking me, but spent the next hour singing along, between bites of pancake and we all eventually departed for the evening comically and sterotypically depressed about love...the inevitable topic of all songs sung at such a time.
On Friday afternoon i meet up with some students from my art history class to view Masoccios famous frescos in the Branccuci chapel for extra credit. As they were on my ''must see'' list anyway i was more than happy to recieve credit for them. Miraculious surving after a fire that swept the entire church they encapsule many energizing and revolutionary tactics and changes in art, and i was quite impressed.
The next morning, Saturday, i trekked to the train station to meet most everyone in my drawing class, and our beloved professor, for our trip to Venice.
She is amazing!
Imagine flooding the streets of a local city, and then pretending that it is suppose to be taht way. The first thingi was struck with was the size the city. She is a fullfledged metropolis, and has vast boundaries. Upon arrival, after checking into the hotel we boarded the bus, which was a boat, that pulls up to various docks along the grand canal instead of street curbs for stops until we arrived at the Biennale of Art, a show that takes place every few years. Held in a large park, each pavillion holds different countires, and by and large i was very impressed with this modern exhibit. I wandered the vastness of it with a friend, and eventually everyone met up to ferry back into the heart of the city for dinner. We took an appertivo with Raph and her favorite place andthen slpit into groups pending on what ethnic dish one wanted to eat for dinner. I choose Mexican for a change and helped navagate the extremly confusing streets, over bridges and around turns, making sure not to misjudge the streets and fall into the water, a very real possiblity. We arrived finally. As it would happen in Italy, i never actually recievd my food...which ended up being fine becasue Italian Mexican is not actually very good and eating off the plates of friends left me not having to pay for it. We wandered back, caught a bus....err boat..back to the hotel next and I went to bed after dishing with the girls i was sharing a room with late into the night.
The next morning, we took the same bus back the the art show, and Holly and I took a more rushed approach because the shops of Venice were calling our names. Leaving after a few hours we spent the rest of the day ducking into almost every conceiveable store (seemed that way atleast). We (impressivly) made it back to the meeting place in time, after stopping for crepese, through the very strange streets of the city. You cant ever look around, because there are not open places and feel very much like you are in a large maze, broken up by streams of water...which yes, do have gondalas floating down at almost every occassion.
Venice is an increadibly beautiful city. Bizzare and unique and if any of you ever find yourself in Italy, please stop and see her.
Back in Florence for the next week of classes was a little stressful as i actually had academic work to do. My final project for art was due and aswell as an art history test to be typed. That class, by the way, continues to delight me, as we either meet at various places through the city and listen as Frank enthusiastically give lectures or we meet at CAPA for a short introduction and wait until he stops, smiles, his eyes twinke and abruptly claps his hands and instructs us to ''grap your coats...lets go'' and we literally have to nearly run and chase him to the site. And as a bonus...he is quite handsome (heeeheehee), as well, actually every member of the CAPA staff seems to be. That afternoon, for our last drawing class we toured a lithography school and shop. Raph had attended it for training years before and after meeting at the office of the school in a gorgeous room, wall to wall with built in book shelfs barely able to hold their namesake and a sparkling chandiler in the center of the room, along with prints and art covering all concevable space along the walls, we recieved and introdction to the hsitory of the art of lithography and the first of its kind school we were now in. Those such as Picasso had been through its doors. Next we followed Raph through ever winding streets to a small family run lithography printing shop. We were welcomed by artists hands covered in ink, and strong acidic fumes of the medium. That along with smiles of course. The giant machines that create the art take up half the room or more and look as if from another time. That however is not the case, as plate were being run through them even as we stood around touring the place. Leaving, we progressed to one last stop, another section of the school, were we found students intensly bent over their work. Raph, leaned over and whispered to us..''finals'' and we smiled..knowing the feeling. We watched them work for a few minutes, and listened to Raph joke with old professors.
I spent the following evening decidedly at home working on my art final. I had decided to do a three part seris on David...one of Michelangeos, one of Dontellos and one of Berninis. I was quite pleased with the results, especially my detail of DOnetellos, the one of which i completed listening to John play, as he came over once again that evening.
The next night, i meet about 2-3rds of the CAPA group at a resturant that Raph descibes as her second home. ''eating here is like eating at home'' she says. We had previously arranged (during a classtime, i believe, that we went there to eat brunch instead of work..of course) to have thanksgiving dinner cooked for us. We gave the chef (who cooks also at one of the most renouned places in the city) an American Thanksgiving menu earlier and were all gathering to count our blessings and primarily to devour some incredible food. The cuisine, as it rarily does, did not disapoint. He abosoluty nailed the dishes..our turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans, stuffing, roasted potatos and pumpkin pie were better than anything i've had at home. (sorry mom!) We had blueberry sauce instead as cranberries are rather hard (near impossible) to come by in italy, but i rather enjoyed the new idea. Stuffed with food and warm with wine, after hours around the table we all departed ways, bid farewll, gushed our praises to the chef and headed home.
The day of thanksgiving was just another however for me. I woke early to finish my art history test, and spent the afternoon shoe shopping (reminder...i am in italy after all). The store we found was having an incredible sale..no really..they were...and i am not going to admit as to how many shoes i have added to my collection. I even returned the next day to purchase more. oh dear.
On Saturday i awoke at 4:30am to meet Avery at the train station where we were going back to Rome. unfinished business. I felt it would be silly to leave the country before finding myself under the sistine chapel and through a seris of unfortunate events the last trip did not allow me to enter the Borghese museum which contains my favorite pieces of art i have yet found. We took the MET to the Vatican and stood in the evergrowing line of people who gather to get in a see this chapel we have all heard so much about. In order to see her, you travel through the Vatican museums and end under the famous ceiling. On the way there is much to see. Egyptian mummys and ancient treasures. In the courtyrad there are sculptures that are not only very impressive but also very esteemed in the art world. The memory card on my camera will prove as evidence that i was impressed. Still, there is an air in the museums...we are all there for one thing. Obligatorily we travel from room to room and glance the pieces up and down, but are waiting for that one place. On the way however, I was happy to remember that the museum contains Rapheals ''school of Athens'' a large fresco ripe in symbolism and competed at the height of the Ren. But like pilgrams on a journey, the sway of the crowds continue to the Sistien chapel with determination and intent. We are lead like a flock through hallways and up and down stairs, a maze to the treasure. I paused only once to examine some Dali paintings hanging, ignored, to the side of the pathway. Rejoining the moving crowd however, there was only one thing i wanted to see. Curling around a bend, i finally did. Through a plain and low doorway. Walking into the room, it was everything and nothing i expected. The ceiling is high, and the room is plain. A large cavernous space, with nothing around. A large rectangular space, with hundreds of people looking up. Mouths gaping.
Let me tell you. She is gorgous.
The last judgment screaming from one side. The prophets warning from each side. The creation of the earth calm at one end. The expulsion from paradise. and in the center of it all, i managed my way through them all to stand right there, at the very middle of the room and stared at those fingers...from god to man. And i will admit to you that i got a little chocked up. Coming to Italy was not easy and a lot of bad things happened when i was trying to leave and i have given things up because of it. But there i was. In the Sistine Chapel..and its all worth it.
I meet Avery outside, and we both just sorta nodded and sat down on the curb, fishing food from our bags for lunch.
As if it wasnt enough we trekked next to the Borghese museum, a famous place of Boroque art, and a high conncentration of Bernini pieces. I had to prebook our tickets and after waiting for the time slot, i stood in line waiting to be let up to the top floor to see paintings such as Rapheal's Desposition. After hovering the canvasses for about a halfhour i made my way down the stars to large part of the museum. The marble sculptures of Berninis that meet me were stunning. The Rape of the women (of which place i dont remember) was complete with the mans fingers on the thigh of the women he is grabbing and carrying away intenting her fleshy body, her angry hands pulling at his face pull his eye askew and all in marble. The realism is stunning. I however charged around the rooms, unwilling to examine any of them until i found David. And finally, i did. I approched his body from the right side and walked slowly until i was directly in front of him. His eyes looked much past me, his mouth tense as he flings his arm around to project the sling. The armour of Sauls, lies disrearded behind him. For quite a long time i circled him, eating every curve and finding every angle. And finally i bid him farwell and left.
And as the joke we have aquired, John no longer has to pick me up and carry me onto the plane, kicking and screaming...beacuse i saw David. And now its okay for me to go home.
We went briefly to the Trevi fountain and Pantheon again in our left over time until the train home, and arrived back in Florence around 11pm Sat. night.
Today, i went grocery shopping, and ran into the fleamarket i had gone to a month ago, as its held only on the last Sunday of the month. A whole month ago i bough that dangly necklace. Its pretty mindblowing how long ago that was, and how little i feel it. There was a marathon today throughout the city. I watched the runners on my way home from the store, most of them holloring to the spectators, laughter bounding up to the sky with their passing jokes and good natured ribbing from fans and loved ones in the crowed. A pirate ran by. And a man wearing a mask.
Oh the Italians. -Corrie
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