art for breakfast

We just finished our daily morning lecture and I have a couple of free hours to spare before we take our first public bus ride up into the hilltops to visit the church and graveyards of San Miniato. I am really excited- I have always had a penchant for graveyards, especially when related to photography. I feel as though photographs can almost pick up on the strange, otherworldly vibes emanating from graveyards, the aura of death and slumber (peaceful and restless alike) and the stillness, speaking to those that visit them.

I cant believe we only have a little over a week left in Firenze before we take off for a few days in Rome, then head for home. Time has flown by so quickly..I suppose that is opt to happen when each moment that passes is opulent and flavorful, to all parts of your being. Four weeks is nothing once this country takes a hold of you and clings tightly...I wish it were a whole summer, instead. But I did take Erics advice and rubbed the bronze hog near Piazza Della Signoira, so I have a feeling I will be back soon enough (and to Venice and Salzburg, they call to me even now as I type this.)

I promised a few more updates yesterday, recollections of things I missed when too overloaded to update. Sooo, here is a helping for brunch my time, late night snack for those of you back in the states (probably all sleeping at this moment).

Pisa and Lucca were the two cities we visited on our first weekend outing, the weekend before Venice. The best part of Pisa was not the typical tourist scene of climbing the famous leaning tower, it was lounging in the beautiful, bright green grasses near the bell tower(some of the most soft, lush, and prisitne grass I have seen in forever!)...soaking up the sun and the display of fantastic architecture before us (it was a small group of the students). This is not the first time I have laid in the grasses of foreign cities and their famous locations and felt so peaceful and close to the earth, satisfied and happy in a pure way I cannot truly describe. We did the same in Berlin, the city thats really just a large, hidden garden, creeping throughout the pretense label of "city" (where countless people relaxed on every corner in the greenery). It is so refreshing to fully enjoy what the earth has blessed us with- I have noticed this as well with all the walking I have been doing, EVERYWHERE, every day. It has really stimulated every inch of me, and I actually dont miss my car in the least! I think I will be doing a lot more walking and bike riding when I return.
Lucca was also invigorating, for many reasons: it was a quaint little medieval town with hardly any tourists, which is opposite of Florence. The air in both Pisa and Lucca was so fresh and roborant, making me feel alive and completely serene simultaneously. It was the perfect temperature in these cities, making me miss Texas (heeeaat, yall) a little less. The wind breathes along your skin, seeping into your pores and filling your lungs with L I F E. I love the scents the breeze carried in Lucca, fresh leather and warm sugar from the delicacy shops, timber smell of olive wood (the towns specialty.) I remember there was music floating in the air, a local version of what you imagine stereotypical Italian romance music to sound like...but somehow it made me feel at home. This town was something I recall from dreams, or perhaps something recognizable from the depths of my subconscious, as though I have visited this place in a past life. It was very vibrant, but in a subtle, easy going and won to earth sense, a cozy and welcoming city that makes you want to stay just a little bit longer.
While we were there, we went to a hidden treasure of a church, San Fernandino, to see the mummy of Saint Santa Zia, who lies in her glass box coffin surrounded by lace, cloth flowers, and embroidery, still surprisingly intact although she has been dead for centuries. (Since the 1200s.) She still remains there, arms crossed across her breasts tranquilly...her body, although her skin is leathered and has hardened into a dark skeleton with brown, wizened flesh stretched across it, is still preserved despite the hundreds of miles (years) she has on her. She has not rotted or bloated, or decayed like most corpses do, although her coffin is not airtight and is vulnerable to air and bacteria...evidence of her true saintliness and purity of spirit. Because Lucca is so small and humble/modest, you know that this is not a tourist trap...not many know of the church, although she is famous among the residents of Lucca and nearby towns. If the sight of her is not enough to instill some ray of reverence in someone- an awareness of a rare spirituality, very real...I dont know what possibly could. I felt faith in enlightenment flood me. The church itself where she lies was very fascinating with its collection of mysterious oddities...strange crucifixes that appeared out of nowhere, dungeons and crypts, unique painted wooden creations within the small chapels, that still lasted regardless of their materials (the wood had not eroded at all...similar to Santa Zia). It was not overbearing and luxurious like many of the churches we have visited...and for that reason, as well as for its obscure magnetism, I have to say it has still been one of my favorite churches we have seen thus far. You felt more at ease within its dimly lit aisles and dark wooden pews, watching the locals pray and worship in quiet devotion, or visit their passed relatives and loved ones. The gelato in Lucca was absolutely out of this world- the best so far. Many people had seconds (almost myself included, guilty conscience got the best of me).

Although it was very different adjusting to traveling in a group, after having liberty to go where ever we desired, it has been very fun, and I have made lots of new friends.
The only night I have truly gone out to a bar was to the infamous bar, Angies, that students back home who visited Italy last summer recommended to us. Im really glad we took their advice, intrigued by the stories we heard of "Chicco", the bartender there, who was wildly entertaining and invited us into his territory almost right away, after hearing about our ties to those who had made friends with him the year back. Yes, that meant free shots- oh, how I had missed tequila! It was a fun night, and we didnt go overboard or get trashed, just had a blast and enjoyed the company and the little bar, tucked into the tightly interlocking streets of Firenze, with its overpriced drinks and all. I have not been picking up the language as much as I would like, but thats my own fault, as I have not been spending as much time as I would like studying phrasebooks and asking questions...I suppose I get a little intimidated, or busy trying to take everything is. However, I have been utterly inspired and touched by the gorgeous, sensual language and its accompanying ethnological cultivations, and I want to take some language classes when I get back home. It is such an enriching experience, to be able to communicate with others that hold connections to a culture very different (and similar in some ways, as well) to your own. There is so much to learn in every corner, if you truly open your mind and heart to the unfamiliar territories, willing to step beyond your comfort zones and explore life to the fullest, every facet of it, in its every varying shape and form.

The Arno river that weaves along the city is one of the best spots to divulge in. It is swimming with lights and waves of time, especially near sunset, and after dark, when the last dying rays of the day or the sparkling city lights reflect across the dark, glassy (yet cloudy, at once) surface, working their way deep down into your soul and memory. Our apartment has really grown on me, with its terracotta tiled balcony and floors, the bright blue blankets spread across the beds in the room Jenny and I share, the odd bathtubs (one of them nonexistent, just a shower head connected to the wall of the bathroom), and the broken kitchen table. The mosquitoes are a little aggravating, waking us in the middle of the night- I swear I have seen a couple the size of small butterflies. However, you get used to the delicious smell of Off after awhile.

We took some authentic Italian cooking classes with this spectacular woman named Jeannie last week. It was such an amazing experience (I have said that so often, must tell you something), and some of the best, most fresh food I have had in a long time. She showed us how to prepare each course in the five course meal, giving us tips along the way and allowing us hands on learning, all of us involved in the process. The menu was as following: handmade foccacia bread (rolling the dough and all), spicy chickpea soup called "pasta e ceci" (with tomato, rosemary, garlic, and red pepper), a peperonata (stewed sweet peppers), a zucchini and onion frittata e cippolle, and gelato di banane...fresh, homemade banana gelato. Is your mouth watering yet? She used all fresh ingredients, hardly anything canned or preserved. The food was not the only thing that was extraordinary...get this: Jeannie came to visit Italy when she was a little younger than I am now, (she was from Iowa) and never went back to America, she loved Italy so much. She married an Italian man, and his family took her in, her new mother in law teaching her all the cooking secrets of Italy...and then she had her own family here, raised them Italian (they barely speak English, and she also has trouble with it now too!) She followed her heart and chased down her dreams, seeking happiness no matter the cost or unknown territory, and she and her family are so cute and content, living in an adorable loft apartment with a raised kitchen (it looked like a little stage with a pulpit, a few feet above their dining room.) It was so wonderful to be able to experience Italian culture from behind the scenes, in a cozy home setting, where you are able to see how the families interact and live their lives, successfully and modestly even in the midst of the boutique jungle (the fancy, shopping based area of town they live in.) It was an eye opening and satisfying night, and when I got home later that evening, it was not only my tummy that was satiated.

Everywhere my eyes grace, there is something to derive inspiration from. I have been writing more than I have in years, and it feels absolutely incredible- like I have finally found one of my pieces of heaven in this world. My creative juices have been bloating my veins and sending little pulsing, electric waves of vitality through me each day. My direction has been shifting, and I am excited about that- change is something I thrive off of, although it is also one of the most difficult, domineering forces I face as well.

I need to run for now, but Ill try to be better about updating now that things are slowing down a bit (oh wait...was I not just up all night writing art history journals and editing photos?) Arrevederci for now, my loves!