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

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Long and inordinately rambling

ACK! Seems I am posting in Russian.

Yesterday was a WONDERFUL day.

Everything has been great on this trip. The only things I am looking forward to getting back to are 1) better sleep - the hostel is great but my sleep has been broken up in the last few days by latecomers and early risers spraying perfume and stuff; and 2) vigorous exercise - I could go running I suppose but Florence is a terrible place for that and the rain every day or spots of rain have made cycling unattractive.

Yesterday was, in fact, a lovely, sunny day. I walked out to visit a church I have never visited before, which is one of my favourite things. I then went to the Bard!ni garden, which is also something I have never before done. It was amazing. I loved it. The views of Florence were spectacular. I sat up in a porticoed area in which they have a very small bar and had a glass of wine and a small sandwich. It was magical. I just couldn't believe the views. Fortunately, I had a sweater with me, so I bundled up in that and was as a result not too cold. I am so fortunate that I packed a warm cardigan (one of my homemade jobbies) in my bag at the last minute. I just WISH I had also thrown in one of my merino v-necks that I could layer. My other major deficit is pants, in that I only brought one pair. The fact of the matter is though that I never wear pants at home. I always wear skirts. So I only own three pairs of jeans and one pair of trousers. I should really remedy that. I actually loathe wearing jeans. I think they're the most unattractive, unladylike piece of clothing imaginable. I think they're rather gross. And when I wear them I feel uncomfortable because they're either really large or they're too tight on my thighs. Picky, no?

I do like trousers thoguh. I suppose I could buy some here. I have had absolutely ZERO impulse to shop here, which is thrilling to me. For sure I will go out and pick up a couple of pairs of shoes, because I'd be stupid not to - the quality is amazing and the Euro is low; I don't have many comfortable pairs of shoes at home. Those pink loafers have worked out wonderfully though, I must say. They are so incredibly comfortable and frankly I think they look just fine with skirts and the like.

SOrry - that was a detour.

So the exciting part of yesterday involves an art school. In the Bardini garden, in one of the exhibition houses, one of the art schools that Andrea and I had asked about for me at the art store the day before was having an exhibition. Honestly, it blew me away. It is a realist school and the drawings were figure drawings in charcoal. There were also some paintings in oil. All I can say is that the quality was phenomenal. I mean, phenomenal. I will have to do so much work before I will be able to go to a school like that, if ever. I am imagining that most of the works were by graduates of their three year program, because these were serious artists. One of the paintings had a price tag of 9,600 Euro!

But wow. What I really loved were the charcoal drawings. They were so delicate and the shading so fine that I was blown away. They were truly beautiful. That is exactly how I want to draw.

If only I could afford to quit my job and study art for a few years. I would be so happy!

But do you know what? Where there's a will there's a way. I'm going to enroll in the most serious courses I can find at home, starting this summer. From there I will gradually build my skill. I don't think there are very high quality courses on offer in OTtawa, but if I take one or two I can also practise and develop my technique on my own. I was just so gobsmacked by the wonderful beauty of it all and I knew that that's what I want to do. I want to do that. I've always wanted to do figurative painting. So I think it must be tried!

Well. SO there is more. Andrea. What can I say? It would be heartbreaking, if I weren't so determined to stay in the moment and to just enjoy this. Yesterday afternoon I rushed back from the Bardini Garden and met Andrea in the square. We laughed and laughed about some things - I told him about the French schoolchildren in the Uffizi - and the sun was shining and it was beautiful. We drove out of the city to a monastery in the country, high on a hill. Andrea had never visited it before, so it was fun for him, too. When we went in we were alone, but when we got deep into the place (it was huge) we encountered a large group of old Italian ladies on a bus tour with the Red Cross. The monastery opened up into a Great Cloist3r, which was by far the largest cloister I have ever seen. There were the most amazing ceramic heads in all of the little roundels above each of the several hundred porticos. The heads all had symbols poking out around them (flowers, frogs, etc.). It was fantastic and marvelous. It was like being in another world.

Andrea isn't much into art, I can tell, but he is curious about everything and has a great sense of humour. Also, like every well-educated Italian, he does know his art. He was catching me on some of my mistakes. It's amazing to be on a date with a biologist who can talk with you about Pont0rmo or dell� Robbi�. I'd be hard-pressed to find a biologist in Ottawa who has even read a book since university, let alone had ever received an art history lesson. But I suppose that that is Ottawa and this is Europe. Said biologist in Ottawa would probably be an excellent athlete or know how to paddle a canoe across country, so I suppose I ought to be more kindly in my judging.

Still, it sucks!

When we were leaving the monastery, we went with all of the little old ladies into the shop run by the friars. This is common in monasteries in Europe. In Belgium they make beer; likewise in Italy the monks make stuff. It was quite hilarious to be me (not tall by Anglo or Northern European standards, i.e. 5' 6.5", but tall by old Italian lady standards). I felt like a giant wandering around amongst all of the little old Italian ladies, who were pushing and shoving to buy little trinkets and food and drink items in the shop. I had told Andrea that I wanted to try some of the monks' honey candies, because we had seen the apiary below the monastery, so the silly man bought me three bags ("so you can be in Canada and eat one and think of this"). The candies taste of the flowers the bees visited, including eucalyptus; it tastes rather as you would imagine a field of spring flowers to taste.

Andrea also bought me a hilarious terra cotta tile that is hand painted with a scene of monks planting a field. It is so funny. They had one for each season of the monnks' work, and I seriously had to work hard to get him to NOT buy all of them for me.

I hate that he is constantly buying me things, because I would rather buy things for myself, and I had to catch myself yesterday because it does get easier and easier to express desire when you know that someone else will fulfill it. But really, had I been there by myself, I would have bought much more. The monks had distilled all sorts of their own liquor and had their own olive oil, and the labels were so old fashioned and handmade and cute that I desperately wanted to buy some of those things to take home to friends. I stopped myself from trying to argue with Andrea about it, because for sure he would have bought all of it for me, and I didn't want him to do that. Ah well, that is Italian culture.

It does feel wonderful to feel like a lady. Don't get me wrong.

So then Andrea had the idea that we would go to a little town called Imprun-ta. We walked in that beautiful little town and bought some bread at the local bakery. We took it back to sit in the setting sun in the piazza in front of the church. It was lovely. I do love a picnic. Andrea had bought me a bag of special cookies from the bakery ("to have with your breakfast in the morning").

The church and many of the buildings in Imprun3ta are a rich yellow colour, called "giallo Parm�). I can't get over the quality of the light as the sun sets on buildings of this colour, set against a blue, blue sky.

Coming back from Imprun-ta, too, the sky was stunning. The sun set in a massive read orb. We watched the end of the sunset at Piazz-le Michel-ngelo...

Well, you know how it is.

I keep on turning this affair over in my head simply because it feels like a real relationship. It is very strange to fit so easily with someone and to feel so happy and yet to know that it honestly can't go anywhere. Andrea, too, knows the same. He made it clear last night that he likes me more than any girl he has met in a long time, but also that he knows he needs to find someone here, have a family, etc. It is a huge thing to import someone from another country, and this is more true when said person has a career and a life, and said other person has serious family obligations.
Andrea and I are very similar, however, in that he said last night that, "I wanted to leave Florence very badly. I don't have a life here. It's just work. I don't have friends here. It's difficult to make friends when you are older. My friends are all in Roma and elsewhere. I am lonely here. But now, since my parents are here, it is less imperative that I leave Florence."

Well, enough about Andrea. I really can't say much more about it. I wish he were Canadian and lived in Canada and we could visit Italy for a month every year, but that is not how it is.

So for now...I forget about this. You just never know how things are going to work out. I want to come to study at one of the art schools that Andrea and I have started to investigate, provided they have a more intermediate program of short duration. I would love to come here next year for two to three months, rent an apartment, etc. Why ever not? I think I must do it, because you only live once. Also, my career is made for this, because I am PERMITTED at least one one- year leave and two three-month leaves with my job completely secure. These are leaves for personal reasons. C. told me the other day that actually we are entitled to those leaves every ten years, so in theory I could do a couple of one-year leaves in each ten-year period, plus the three-month leaves. Of course, unlike maternity or parental leave, these leaves are unpaid. It hardly seems fair, really :), that women in my office can have a baby and leave for 18 months with 97% of their full salary, and I want to go for three months or six months to study something for myself and have to go with 0% of my salary. But so be it... :) They are producing future taxpayers and I am not!

But still....arghh...I have to pay for those kids to go to school, receive medical care, etc. ARGH!

Nevermnid. Actually, I don't really care about the money. One thing I know for sure is that money is just paper. It's a way to do the things that you want to do. I've only ever wanted to have enough to do what I want to do, and I am willing to work very hard to get it. If I think about it, I have never really missed out on anything in life, because when I wanted it I went out and got a job until I had enough money to do whatever it is that I wanted. I am very fortunate to have an education and to have health that each enable me to work. So I will keep up with this strategy. But then there is the pension issue...

Sorry. I am truly rambling this morning. You don't need to hear this. I am treating this like a diary.

So it seems a little bit cold today. I hope it warms up. I think I'm going to start at a church and then try to head out to draw in the Boboli or some place like this. This afternoon I am supposed to meet Andrea to go to a park behind a villa somewhere outside of the city. It sounds very neat. He had said something about going to Volt3rra tomorrow, but I don't want to take all of his time. On Sunday I imagine that he will be with his family. He had talked about us going to have a drink in the wonderful 11 acre garden at the Four S3asons hotel, so I think we might do that on Monday before I leave. At any rate, it's all magical.

Can you imagine that I will be in my grey tweed office, behind my giant screen on Tuesday?

Eek.

Love and baci!

9:22 a.m. - 2010-05-21

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next

other diaries:

stepfordtart
ohell
awittykitty
annanotbob
manfromvenus
smartypants
fifidellabon
hungryghost
hissandtell