In a Florentine frame of mind….
Sep. 26th, 2003 11:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mmcnealyThree years ago, right now, I was in Florence, Italy, staying in a convent right on the Plaza de Santa Maria del Carmine. It was quiet, clean and had a rotating selection of French tourists who seemed to speak less Italian than I did, which was very strange since Bon jour and bon gourno (sp?) are very similar, at least to my Anglo ears.
I would wander the city, window shop and take in the museums during the day, for some reason they all had free admissions that week while I was there. I found the street markets and bought some lovely local lace, a leather coat which is now a little snug, and some little pieces of jewelry.
Around the Duomo I found a chatty portrait drawer and had her draw my portrait. My mother still doesn’t think it looks like me, but I had been in Italy for more than a week at that point, no one looks like their regular selves at that point, not if they are truly letting themselves BE in Italy versus, being in their home place and physically elsewhere.
The drawing is still in its tube, but a picture, taken by a nice Australian fellow at the top of the Duomo’s bell tower, sits in my living room on the bookshelf.I look so carefree and happy… and very young, even though I wasn't young when it was taken.
I think I love it so much because it shows the side of me that is, was, totally, momentarily, carefree and irresponsible. Responsibility can be such a heavy burden sometimes, even though its what pays the bills and enables long trips to Italy.
In honor of this Italian anniversary I was reading Bella Tuscany on the bus into work today and almost missed my stop, as I was so engrossed in thoughts and remembered smells of Tuscany, it was quite a rude awakening to be back in Seattle and on my way to work.
I am really longing to go back to Florence, with its sunny plazas, narrow little streets and colorful houses, its blue sunny skies that warm your bones to their core, and being able to break out of my oldest sister/responsible/rational shell that I live in day-to-day.
I think its time to break out the Italian cookbooks and cook something Florentine this weekend.
I would wander the city, window shop and take in the museums during the day, for some reason they all had free admissions that week while I was there. I found the street markets and bought some lovely local lace, a leather coat which is now a little snug, and some little pieces of jewelry.
Around the Duomo I found a chatty portrait drawer and had her draw my portrait. My mother still doesn’t think it looks like me, but I had been in Italy for more than a week at that point, no one looks like their regular selves at that point, not if they are truly letting themselves BE in Italy versus, being in their home place and physically elsewhere.
The drawing is still in its tube, but a picture, taken by a nice Australian fellow at the top of the Duomo’s bell tower, sits in my living room on the bookshelf.I look so carefree and happy… and very young, even though I wasn't young when it was taken.
I think I love it so much because it shows the side of me that is, was, totally, momentarily, carefree and irresponsible. Responsibility can be such a heavy burden sometimes, even though its what pays the bills and enables long trips to Italy.
In honor of this Italian anniversary I was reading Bella Tuscany on the bus into work today and almost missed my stop, as I was so engrossed in thoughts and remembered smells of Tuscany, it was quite a rude awakening to be back in Seattle and on my way to work.
I am really longing to go back to Florence, with its sunny plazas, narrow little streets and colorful houses, its blue sunny skies that warm your bones to their core, and being able to break out of my oldest sister/responsible/rational shell that I live in day-to-day.
I think its time to break out the Italian cookbooks and cook something Florentine this weekend.
