enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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This started out being about art and ended up as an "I don't get it."

I woke up thinking about the Uff!zi. Anna was there, I think, yesterday.

On Monday night, when I was having coffee with the playwright, I was telling him why every time I go to Florence I go to the Uff!zi and stand in room two. It's because right then and there you can see the dawn of Western painting. It's not about religious art at all. The subjects are religious, of course. But when you see Cimabu3 and Giott0 subtly moving this tradition from the ic0nic Byzant!ne style to a perceptible attempt to paint light in order to give human weight to these forms...WOW! It brings tears to my eyes every time.

And it's not even about painting, just as it's not about religion. What I think about when I am there is about the delicacy of "place" in the world - how the exact circumstances (economic, political, religious, local, familial) make all the difference. You get the "right" confluence of circumstances at large (or on a very personal level) and you get an awakening to a brand new, brighter future; you miss one component and that light of innovation does not emerge. Instead, you continue in a kind of darkness. I think it's a physical manifestation of a critical metaphor for the way life works.

I mean, that's what Florence is all about, anyhow. (They don't call it the "Renaissance" for nothing. ;))

That, and people who still make bread without salt. I adore that stubborn adherence to a habit born out of past want.

Ah sigh...I ought to have a shower. I have French today. Maybe I'll go all grotty-like and not bother to wash my hair.

I keep on starting to write something negative and pissed off about the stupidity of dudes, but I really don't feel pissed off over anything. The specific issue is that that 46 year-old dude who was staring at me all last summer and all fall in the coffee shop has not followed up on the date that he offered to take me on in December. And that's not even true. He had invited me for dinner in December, and said that it would have to be after his Christmas holidays. Fine. And then in January he did email me and say, "We should have that coffee or glass of wine soon." I had said I had some appointments in that week but that next week would be good if he had the time.

I still haven't heard from him to set up the now "coffee" date. I really don't know why this pisses me off, as I don't think for one second that he will be a match for me. I think it annoys me because I feel as though I'm probably on a rank-order list. He's got some "hot", younger girls on his list, probably, and then when they don't work out he'll probably get around to emailing me.

Of course - don't worry - I have no intention now of going out with him. I will very politely decline.

Why did I write about that? I have no idea.

I'm not very excited about meeting dudes here. In the last two days I've been thinking about Andrea and how quickly I felt comfortable with him. Right from the first moment, really. He is not even remotely good looking, but right away when he asked me for coffee I trusted him. I felt at ease with him and we could talk and talk and talk. It was at once intelligent AND humorous conversation. I can't find that here.

When I was on the date the other night with the super-smart playwright, the conversation was delightful but not humorous. He has a theory that is relevant here. He has the same impression of North Americans: they're not generally adept at conversation. Conversation - particularly intellectual conversation - is not prized here in the way that it is prized in France or even in certain circles in England. I rather agree. Most things in North America are transactional. Sure, there are very bright people. But it's rare to find people with the willingness or developed practise of conversing about a broad swath of topics for the pleasure of conversing. If I look around myself here the conversations typically are about the weather, people's children, the weather, and the hockey scores.

I mean, each to his own. But I don't enjoy it.

That reminds me of something that Nu@la O'F@olin said about basically the same subject. It was what she missed of Ireland when she lived in New York: the "talking." People in New York seemed to think her mad, in her view, for playing so much with words, with her topics of conversation. I think I sort of innately understand that.

It's not that I'm very good at conversation. It's difficult to find opportunities to practise here. I had that a little bit with my friend Roland. I hope I will find that with my new friend. Of course I have that with the C-meister, although the conversations about the arts are somewhat restricted.

What makes economics so much more important to us in North America than culture? Discuss.

Ah well, no more rants for today. It's all OK. Off to French.

8:00 a.m. - 2010-01-27

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