Piano piano!

Piano piano!

It's been really hard for me to find the energy to write a blog update the past couple of weeks. Time is flying like the new born mosquitos - faster, actually, I just wanted to get the tidbit in about the changing seasons. Tempo del marzo is temperamental - the sun shines for two days, then it rains for two days, then it's cloudy, windy, and finally sunny again. Kind of like my trip, come to think of it ...

Since the last time I wrote, a lot of living has happened, but nothing huge. I've mostly been working on my sculpture, collecting pezzi di pietra in my hair, painting pictures of naked people and shriveled beets, drinking sangria with friends at an Argentinean restaurant across the street from my from door, and experimenting with cooking vegetables in balsamic vinegar (very tasty indeed!).

I've also been busy arranging my schedule for next year and looking for jobs for when I return. I received an email this week notifying me that the interior design internship I've had for four years has come to an end due to economic reasons. I'm a little sad to be leaving a job that I've enjoyed and also some coworkers who have become lovely friends. But when I return, it will be many kinds of spring, and after a trip like this, I might as well take advantage of the opportunity to start anew.

For now, I need to turn my focus to Firenze. I'm sure that I won't have time to do everything I thought I would before I leave here, but that's life - I have grand dreams, but then I get caught up in the details. Some people are more ambitious, but me? I need time to soak everything in. I could leave now and be pretty happy - I've been enjoying the living - except some things are inexcusable - I have yet to see the David! I haven't been inside the Uffizi! I have only seen the Ponte Vecchio at night! Alas, there are a few precious Saturdays and Sundays remaining.

I still believe that somehow these dreams will happen. It's just that .... the problem with studying abroad is that you have to study! I have always been a good student, and for the last several semesters I've somehow managed to get the magic quattro-zero, for whatever it's worth. So this semester, if I come back with less than perfect grades, I think it's going to be ok.

I'm pretty sure that I'm not going to finish all the etching editions that are due - there are six due by the end of the semester, and I have two plates finished. I think I'll aim for 5, and if I only end up with 4 that will have to be good enough. The reality is, I'm not meant to be a printmaker. My prints come out nice, but I'm just not interested in the process. Once I get the drawing done, I want to move on to something else. I like to dig into my work, smear it around, change it up. I don't want to make 6 of the same image! I'd rather make 6 different images. I can see what some people might find so beautiful about printmaking and appreciate it - the biting of acid, the experiments and the multiplicity - but maybe I just don't get it.

I have more interesting things to think about. The Boy comes in 21 days, and I am more than ready to see him. I'm grateful for Skype and even the 16 million people using it who keep me from have a perfect connection, but I'll be glad when I can see any of love ones without pixels. Today we were talking and his face was pixelated in a way that made it look like he was crying. I was surprised for sure, and when I asked him if he was alright, he didn't know what I was talking about!

Ah, technology.

So it goes.


After resisting for three months, I finally got my hair cut yesterday. My stylist didn't speak English, but I was ready with the italian words for long, short, and curly, so through lots of gesturing and pointing we achieved a fresh cut that I'm pleased with. I always want the shampooing and conditioning head massage to go on for an hour, and somehow it was better this time because it was in Italy. She used a buzzer to cut my hair, and the whole thing went very fast; we were giggling the whole time as she asked me my opinions of Italy and Italian men and shared hers. I'm not sure exactly what she said, but she was saying something about how Italian men can sometimes be ugly and accompanying her explanation with her impersonation of someone using one of the squat toilets ... I guess she thinks they can be merde sometimes.

Well, they can. So can most guys, if they want to be. To be fair, it's true of women in a different way. But I prefer not to dwell on gender. Most of the people I've met here have been lovely to me, and when they haven't, I just keep going. I'm curious to see how my experience changes when there are two of us; it's very easy to meet people as a woman traveling alone, but I know I'll enjoy having someone to share my experiences with, and I won't miss the incessant self-chatter that keeps me company when I travel alone.