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 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mish mash I was taking a pause Bonjour, I slept fairly well, although I woke up feeling a bit "Meh!" But a kind friend told me that it's OK to feel a bit down following the Andrea thing, so I'm going to take her advice and let myself be. It's Friday! Even though I don't enjoy the weekends, I do enjoy Friday evenings (provided I skip the staff social). I like the feeling of being free. I'm going to commit to doing a few small things that I know I can handle this weekend, and if I get to some bigger things, so be it (small things: a bit of drawing, going to the cafe down the road for a croissant, shopping at the farmers' market down the road). I know it's all going to work out in the way that it should, but it's difficult to *feel* that at the moment. I know: the heart is more important. One step at a time. I will get this figured out. It may take a couple of years, but I will move in a new direction that is more suitable for me (and that doesn't involve people like that senior economist I mention sometimes, who I want to str@ngle practically daily).
I don't know why I didn't take a video at Anna's! Did I post this photo of Bob surveying dinner? :)
When I look at that photo I think of the scene in the movie version of A R00m with a Vi3w, in which Judi D3nch (the romantic author) says to Maggi3 Smith (the regulated spinster): "Ah, that's what I call a true Florentine smell. Take a deep breath." (And of course Maggi3 Smith takes a deep breath, nearly gags, and then covers her mouth with her handkerchief (smelling salts?). There are no sewers in the old city, naturall, so there are tanks instead. The smell doesn't bother me at all. It smells like a city to me. But Andrea noted to me that sometimes it can smell if tanks haven't been cleaned out. SOrry for that! Hope you weren't eating breakfast. There really is a lot of graffiti on the old buildings. It really doesn't bother me. I don't think I'm exactly of the same school as Anna is on this one, but along the same lines I like things to be useful. Time marches on. I think it's good to integrate history with real living, and hopefully we think a little about history at the same time. I have a whole bunch of china that my mom has collected for me over the years (she ignores my birthday but at other times she gives me brown English pastoral china with cows on it (I liked cows when I was a kid) - go figure), and instead of keeping it in the cupboard I use it. Sure, it is not in the best shape now - cracked and stained in places, especially the mugs - but really what is china for? In my view it's not to be put on display. Display cases actually kind of creep me out. Maybe that's because my grandmother had all sorts of expensive stuff - curio cabinets from her trips to India, etc. SO not me! I like things to be homey and in action! I am alive, dammit, and so should be my stuff.
Although, come to think of it, I don't know how I feel about frescoes and this sort of thing. In fact, when I was in Sant@ Mar!a Nov3lla (the museum), marvelling at the frescoes, I was a bit heartbroken when I saw the flood line from 1966. I suppose that they must be better protected from future floods in Florence now, but in fact I think I heard not. Do you know, one of my colleagues - the one who joined me on the plane to England - went to the south of Italy for a bit in May. She was in Italy during the last week and a half of the month. She told me that she and her boyfriend stayed in an orange grove in Sorrento. She's going to give me the address. This brings me to a book I read a while back. It's a decent book, really, although not as well known as "E@t, Pray, Love." It's not my usual classic fare, but occasionally I like a romance or popular book as well as the next person. It's called "An Itali@n Affair," and it's written in the second person by a writer from San Fr@ncisco called L@ura Fraser. In the end she doesn't have an affair with an Italian, but an affair with a French man she meets in the south of Italy. (And I should tell you that she is depressed because her husband has dumped her for his high school girlfriend.) Before she goes to the south of Italy just to get away (not expecting to have an affair) her friend in Florence tells her, "You need an Italian lover. THAT is the answer to...everything." And of course that makes me LAUGH. I might agree. :) Lots and lots of graffiti in Florence: Would a youthful Mick2y have approved? Ah heck - let's turn it over to the youth. Some youth were demonstrating capo3ira in the square of SMN on my last Sunday there. I loved it. I stood mesmerized for about fifteen minutes. I want to be young again! |7:23 a.m. - 2010-06-04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | ||||||
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