Blue Sky, Pink Eye.

Blue Sky, Pink Eye.

I've had a difficult time finding the energy to update this past week or so. After the jazz club last week, I realized how short my time is here: next week is midterm, the week after is spring break.

On Friday I went to Pisa to visit my friend Michele whom I met at TNX. On the way to Pisa I took a very comfortable train; I sat across from a man reading the newspaper. I nodded in and out of sleep for almost an hour. After waking to a phone call from Michele, I asked this man, "C'è un bagno?"

"Eh...," he looked around, "Ah, si!" He tapped on the big plastic cave behind him.

After navigating the strange train bathroom, I returned to my seat, and asked him if he was headed to Pisa. He was, and he helped me perfect my grammar in a text to Michele with information on our arrival.

He had a little voice, but was very kind. His name is Enrico; he's lived in Pisa for 40 years, but works in Firenze as a cashier. He was really curious about what I was doing in Italy, and also about what I was interested in doing with art. I told him I want to teach, but I also want to design album covers (to get to that point, I had to draw a record with an arrow to an envelope, because I couldn't remember the word for vinyl record - disco is the word). He was so helpful throughout the conversation, encouraging me to just try to say something in Italian, even when I thought I didn't know the words just right.

Enrico da Pisa

When I meet people like Enrico, I am filled with happiness. It makes me feel more comfortable while I bumble through a language that I love, and it is good for both parties to make a cross-cultural connnection. I wrote my blog address on a flyer I had in my notebook from an electronic event we helped my friend Seth promote; he wrote his email in my notebook. Enrico looked thrilled to have a piece of America; his hand was shaking just holding the paper while he smiled and said, "Grazie, grazie!"

While I waited for Michele, Enrico waited with me. "This is not a good place for you to wait alone," he said. I looked around. I saw that there were indeed some dubious characters; many people had come for respite from the bitter cold. The Stazione is sort of a run-down place; it was in this train station that I used my first squat toilet.

BEFORE my squatting commenced.

Pisa itself is sort of a dying city, but it was interesting to see the night life, which seemed to revolve around one bar and walking in groups. Pisa is full of one way streets; Michele explained to me that if you have to go somewhere 5 meters away in your car, you might have to drive 100 meters just to get there. As he explained this he snaked through Pisa in his car on the way back from seeing the tower.

Straight, straight, straight, tilt.

I spent a few hours walking around with Michele - the first uomo italiano willing to be just my friend. We successfully conversed in a mixture of Italian and English. I really was enjoying the bus ride back, too, but it got me into a pensive place. The bus and the train were both very comfortable. On the bus there were maybe 10 people and 40 seats; it was dark and warm and though I couldn't see much of the countryside, I knew I was seeing some trees.

I walked back from the Santa Maria Novella train station at 2:30 am Saturday morning, saw lots of drunk American students, and went to bed.

Walking into the kitchen Saturday morning - mamma mia, could it be sunshine?

Sunglasses provide instant attitude to any outfit, which is why I love wearing my aviators. After I looked out into the courtyard and saw a blue sky on Saturday, I thought it might be a badass day.

Yes, yes it is! Blue skies, hallelujah.

But when I got into the bathroom, I realized that despite all the sunshine, there would be no sunglasses for me for many days. I woke up with pink eye, or what I think was pink eye. I wore my eye glasses instead.

I didn't want to go to the doctor again, so I looked up some natural remedies and decided to use a cold chamomile tea bag. It was soothing to my eye, and when I woke up Sunday, the redness had diminished drastically. A haze of pink remained until today, but it never got worse. Maybe chamomile works; maybe I just didn't have pink eye. Either way I'm glad.

Saturday, Valentine's Day, I saw many couples walking around, and despite all the sunshine, I couldn't help but wish for something more. Though I believe Valentine's Day to be a commercial excuse, I also think it's a good day for reflection. I saw an old man with eyes so bright blue that he still looked youthful, and it had me thinking of Justin's bright eyes. Since we couldn't spend Valentine's Day together in analog, we spent a few minutes together digitally.

After our Skype date, I had a platonic date with Alex at the Jazz club. Before jazzing it up, we (or I should say, Alex) made dinner at our apartment - chicken with pepper with onions with garlic with peas with rice. It was delicious, and we ate every last bite. Then we headed out to the Jazz Club around the corner and around the street.

My hot date was a headphone monster.

Acoustic Trio, with lounge covers of Oasis, Nirvana, and Prince.

All around, it was a good weekend; I spent a bit of time working on my projects, and that's what I'll be doing all week too. I have an etching critique on Thursday and a book due Monday, and I'll be at school until closing time at 10 all this week. There's no time to work on my projects this weekend, for Friday, I go to Venezia for Carnevale, and I shan't return until Sunday!

Of course, many photos of Venezia to come.