So, I definitely have not been having the time I thought I would to keep this blog truly updated. I was not expecting to be kept so busy all of the time, and I have to admit, would much rather spend as much of the little free time we have to explore and discover Italia. However, I will do my best to write an entry soon enough that will rewind and describe some of the amazing times and memories I have skipped over the past couple of weeks throughout all the craziness and colorful chaos. Until then, my entires will be much shorter and not as descriptive as before...forgive me for that! You can always email me if need be, or call my international celly, the # is 011393481503945. It is free for me to receive calls and texts, but not to send/call out.
One thing I never mentioned was the events of my 21st birthday, and although I can't go into full details now, just know this: 5 story disco club, and streaking the Charles Bridge. No big deal or anything. I don't exactly like being the stereotypical drunk American girl, and I really don't like making scenes, but it was a once in a lifetime chance that I'll be able to tell my kids when they ask me "Mom, did YOU ever party when you were younger?" Well, let me tell you, Johnny...
(I would never name my child that, by the way.)
One thing I must take the time to say, especially because I'm having a hard time knowing exactly where to begin: Italy is something that no words or photos could ever, EVER do justice for. It steals your breath and hypnotizes you in a very distinct way that no other country will. I have been getting far too ahead of myself, trying to take it all in at once and write everything down, take photos of each and every sparkling detail and crevice, so that the imprint of these days will remain stamped into the deepest parts of my cells for all time. I believe that, at times, I almost just shut off, because it is such an overload of beauty and new sensations & experiences. The masterpieces of art, the trattorias/cafes, the cathedrals and churches and museums, the sensational language and words, the espresso, the people...it has all been more wonderful than I could have ever imagined. I can't explain how blessed I feel to have been given this opportunity- such an impacting, infinitely beneficial and profound one, that I will remember always and take so much from.
We wake up each morning, and after stopping to get a cappuccino or espresso (the real stuff, not the overly sugary Starbucks lattes), and then go to lecture (over Renaissance and Gothic art) at our cute little Italian villa studio, and then we walk around Florence to see it in person. We have amazing professors who take the time to make sure we are truly growing as artists, and push us and our creative drives (if the country itself weren't already doing enough) in every way they can, and we get to sketch and photograph the genius all around us in real time.
In fact- did you know there is an actual medical condition where people are hospitalized because they are so overwhelmed by seeing too much art? Don't laugh- because what a coincidence: a little less than a week ago, we were inside an old monastery, seeing the little tiny rooms with one window and one painting where monks lived in solitude for many years...I was just thinking about how admirable it was, these men soaking in utter and complete solitude and piety, reflecting on themselves and the religious frescoes within their living quarters, how much I envied their ability to shut the rest of the world off and meditate and allow their souls to grow naturally. Out of nowhere, I started feeling like I couldn't breathe, and the air felt like it was choking me...I kept trying to take deep breaths, but they didn't feel like they were going in, and so I leaned against a wall for support, but I started getting dizzier and more lightheaded than I ever have been in my life. I began to shake and started feeling like I was about to black out, so I drank some water and pulled out a snack from me purse, thinking maybe it was dehydration or low blood pressure, even though I had a decent breakfast and downed plenty of water that day. It got better after a bit, once I sat down, but then kept coming in waves on and off for over an hour, with accompanying chills and all, until I finally gave in and asked David, one of our "caretakers" and guides (more on him later, he's a character) to take me to the pharmacy. He did, but the pharmacist said it wasn't anything to be worried about, that it was just the flu- but I know my body well and I've had the flu, I knew it was something else, so he suggested I go to the emergency room, and I did.
It was one of the scariest experiences I have ever had. They put me in a wheelchair and a hospital bed and the whole works, because my blood pressure was indeed very low...then took me to a room and hooked me up to an IV. Nadia, who is basically like everyone's Italian mom while we're here (she is totally amazing, a guardian angel) came with me to the hospital but couldn't go into the back with me to translate....so I was disoriented, with an IV stuck in my arm (first time ever) fading in and out of consciousness (I would half fall asleep but I felt like I was hallucinating, fading into myself, and I would get terrified and wake myself back up)....with the Italian nurses and doctors trying to speak to me on and off, but I couldn't understand a word. Everything sounded so strange and echoed off the white, sterile walls, and I longed for someone familiar to be at my side so badly- (I remember specifically thinking "I just want my mommy.) I felt like a little girl, so helpless and vulnerable, and I wanted with all of my being to be able to speak this language better, so I could communicate- it was frustrating and confusing, and at one point I broke down...which I think scared the nurses away, who let me be after that, and I finally fell asleep after awhile, exhausted and a little calmer, once I had given into my fear and had a few minutes of hysterics...I think I got it out of my system. It's not that they were unfriendly (well, there was one..), it was just totally and utterly overwhelming, and I had no idea what was wrong with me. Plus, it wasn't until this moment that I realized how much I fear vulnerability, and I think for the first time in a long time, I honestly embraced it, and let it take over...which is the moment my body finally sunk shallowly into sleep, and rested. The IV helped a lot, and when I woke up they let me go, giving me a sheet of paper with all the results from my blood tests on it (which I couldn't read, of course)...and surprisingly, nothing that had a charge or "price tag" on it. Nadia explained them to me, and said everything was normal, and that the diagnosis was just dehydration and lack of nutrients. However, after I talked to my mom that night, after a somewhat hellish day, I realized it was much more than that. I have been trying so hard to do so many things, and my mind and body have been running in overdrive, trying to accomplish, learn, grow, see, feel, evolve...she told me the symptoms were exactly similar to those of her panic attacks that she used to have. After a long vent session and many more tears, in which I stopped being in such denial, my eyes opened wide to see myself, far too anxiety ridden....and I saw clearly that I needed to slow down, and take my new life abroad one day at a time. I have been reminding myself of this constantly, remembering to breathe (from my tummy, not my lungs...thanks Mommy, for saving my life a little that night). I often times forget that progress is something one must have patient for, and instead of struggling to try and blossom, I am discovering how much better it is to let my soul, mind, and body take things at their own pace, and soak things up slowly, savoring them- not all at once, taken like a shot of powerful liquor, but instead, sipped, eyes closed in bliss, like a deep, rich dessert wine that is meant to linger on the palette, simmering pleasantly and long lasting.
Things have gotten much better since then, and yesterday a friend told me on the train from Venice back to Florence that I look much less stressed out. Indeed, my anxiety and intimidation has been pushed aside, dealt with gently but effectively, and I'm working through these explorations a little at a time, making the most of everything, enjoying my days here. I'm finally starting to learn to let go and relax, it has been so long since I could say that. My lungs are content and full, my heart is smiling, my spirit is singing.
We went to Venice this weekend, and the remnants of its indescribable essence still permeate on my soul, sparkling like the night lights on the canal waters. It exhausted me, all the miles and miles of walking the humid cobble streets, and looking at all the eye candy (it is called literally, "the city of eye candy")....but it is the kind of exhaustion you bear with pride, like the sweaty, out of breath weariness that washes over you after really incredible, mindblowing sex. Laughter echoed in the yellow padded attic room (although ours was coral colored, with bright pink chandeliers- someone please fire the interior decorator! but no really, it was a darling hotel)....cheap, but delicious chianti and touristy sailor caps- the lights of the shop vendors that flooded the hazy green waters with a distinct romance were my favorite part. I fell hard for this city (I have said that about many)- because deep down, my soul is satisfied by the sea, and water in general, like nothing else can do...and although I have always heard about how bad the city smells, it made no difference in its beauty. Stop being babies, everyone! This is a city that stamps itself into the hearts of those who catch on to the effervescent magic that is strung along the streets, dances along the beads, baubles, glitter, paper mache' venetian masks, translucent crystal and hand blown glass, feathers, scarves, jewels- it burns brightly in the waters (dirty or not) and is everywhere you glance, sparking the winds with a fantastical mystery. I think it will call me back to it sometime very soon. Although I thought Prague's vibrant colors were unbeatable and easy on the eyes, all of Venice is like a giant sweet shop- I felt the child in me emerge, rosy and aglow with excitement, I think I went a little crazy those couple of days and nights (toystore style.) The light in this city, and in all of Italy, is something I could never fully capture with my photography, and perhaps even with my actual pupils- it is something only something deep within my unconscious understands, and resonates with. It is nearly blinding in its intensity, whether it is soft and glowing, during a misty sunrise right before we rise and walk to class, or the deep blue penetration of night skies, when the alleys come alive and the merry go round spins musically, or any of the other many forms and attributes that I have no ability to accurately describe.
I never wrote about our visit to Pisa and Lucca, either, or many other of the experiences I have been so lucky as to have. I'll come back tomorrow to catch up a little more (as I will do a bit each day, when time permits.) I love you all so much and think of home each day. I am bursting at the seams, overflowing, and in two weeks, I will return and be able to share stories of my travels that I have skipped over, but that can't be truly conveyed through a simple keyboard or verbal description (no matter the power of the words.)
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