Just booked my flight for Florence. How surreal!
Last night in America.
here I am at the airport. it’s pretty awesome.
lots of firsts: international flight, first missed connecting flight, first time flying an overnighter. jesus. I must say that I love the French though. They are amazing people.
I got my luggage back! Amazing. I need to get a phone.
First few days in Florence.
Everything is going well so far. I’m just exhausted from exploring the city and the nightlife. I bought a cellphone for cheap and I set up skype. I don’t know when the best time for you is to take calls, just let me know….
looking for my first apartment – in Florence.
I have a home! – I finally got an apartment! Hurray! I’m not homeless. hahahaha
I visited the Accademia today. – I snuck in and walked around the courtyard. I will upload pictures as soon as I am able. It is SO BAD ASS. In other news, when I get a bike I’m going to spray paint it black and name it Balerion, The Black Dread.
I want to buy una chitara so bad.
I’m alive everybody, don’t worry. so i have been sick for the past week or so. it has sucked. sorry if i havent been posting my internet is shotty at best.
pigeons. we have a pet pigeon that visits our apartment all the time. he is a handsome pigeon. he is darkly colored grey and purple. his name is francesco. francesco and i are going to have a problem. you see we only have a tiny washing machine and a clothesline. clothes take quite a bit longer to dry than in a dryer. francesco thinks its funny to shit all over our clothes when they are drying. at first i thought pigeons were kind of cute in a stupid kind of way. now i think they are vermin with wings not as bad as zanzare/mosquitos that will eat you alive like tiny pireahana but still annoying and worthy of a vendetta.
today i walked aroumd the top of the duomo. it is open to the public for only one day… on mary’s birthday. words cannot describe it adequately. i felt very god like looking down on all of florence. tomorrow i go to siena and to casa di machiavelli. good thing i downloaded it to my kindle. tonight i shall be reading the prince.
today we went to siena. we saw the frescoes on the wall of the town hall. gold gilded beautiful frescoes. then i had the best pizza of my life for three euro and sat in il campo which is a seashell shaped piazza in which they have bareback horse races twice a year for il palio. i went to il duomo in siena. it was an overload of beauty. i had to sit down and not look at anything else. there are frescoes on the ceilings on the walls. there are mosaics on the floor. gold everywhere. jesus.
when you wake up still buzzed from the night before and your apartment is in a state of disarray with dead soldiers gleaming on the opposite table across the room from your still life which is perfectly intact and illuminated with the pure light of the tuscan morning sun as church bells call for sinners in the distance.
Going to Torino this weekend. Apparently they have a legit Egyptian Museum. Well, as legit as raiding the cultural treasures of other nations can get.
I saw some straight up dead people at the Egyptian museum in Torino. Not sure this is what the ancient egyptians thought of as an afterlife. I don’t know. You die and then your grave robbers stick you in a glass coffin and your mummified ass becomes famous several centuries after you had your heart weighed against a feather. I guess that’s life though.
Tomorrow I will be in Paris.
how many flights do I have to miss before I can just travel with minimal misadventures?
Went to the Louvre yesterday. Saw the Mona Lisa and the circus around her. A lady pushed me out of her picture with the Mona Lisa. Saw some Botticellis, Raphaels, Carravaggios, Delacroixs, some old ass greek and roman statues, some old ass egyptian statues and that was not even the whole wing of one floor of the Louvre. Also french is a difficult language and I cant even say hello correctly.
Paris is the best place take a walk when you have got a lot of things on your mind.
No tears. No fears. Hung out by Jim Morrison’s grave today. A man poured a bottle of champagne onto the grave. Cheers.
My painting class at the Accademia will be fun I think except for the fact that everything is in Italian. My brain already hurts. I hope the professor doesn’t think I’m stuck up because I haven’t been responding to her.
My Italian art professor silently smokes a cigarette behind me pondering my painting as I am working on it. What even is my life.
I would have made an 11:11 wish, but I am already in Florence having the time of my life.
I finally broke down and REALLY looked at a map of Europe. Geography is my new hobby. I keep meeting people from places I’ve never heard of.
So I figured out what four downward triangles on Italian ovens mean. It means you just broiled your apple pie.
my life is a series of misadventures.
my Italian professor caught me daydreaming in class today. It was the classic wubwubwub voice then “what do you think Marissa?” Epic failure on my part. I don’t think I am going to survive this grammar class. I can understand most of what she is saying. Grammar is just so BORING.
Idyllic meadows stretching onwards towards violet mountains. A ginko tree silhouetted against its own golden leaves. White and orange fish swimming in the crypt of a church. I really must be a pagan if I can visit the amount of churches I did this weekend and focus on those three things…
In Florence, if you see a redhead dodging vespas carrying a box ridiculously full of books… it’s probably me. In other news, I got a lot of books for free at the market.
Today walking in Florence I saw a dude that looked like a cross between Ludacris and Vladmir Lenin. I didn’t know whether or not to holla at the comrade.
in a coffee shop in Florence with a caffe latte in front of me and bookshelves all around me. yup just another day in the life.
life takes you strange places sometimes.
If there was a heaven it would look like the Boboli Gardens and I would be a lazy cat roaming around them. If there was a hell it would be a bookstore cafe filled with interesting books that are all in a language I don’t understand.
I’m feeling good. I feel like I could raise some hell this week.
A mistake in your grammar notes is a gift that keeps giving.
Perhaps absurdity is the proper reward for hubris.
That awkward moment when you’re listening to Giuseppe Verdi and you’re like “hey! it’s that one song from Looney Tunes.”
In the shadow of Mount Vesuvius. Cannot stop thinking about the childhood game of “the floor is lava.” Probably inappropriate.
As I hold my life’s work in my hands, I come to the profound realization that blue really is my favorite color.
Focaccia. Bread is not supposed to taste this good. This must be the work of the Devil.
I just wanted to say that among many things, Botticelli paints hands really well.
tomorrow will be the Art Olympics. How many canvases can I transport to the Accademia without being run over by a vespa?
Somedays I just can’t speak in any language.
Did I just explain how to do a math problem in Italian? You can bet your sweet ass I did.
nothing like having daffodils and tulips on your windowsill looking over the stone city of Florence. I have never before loved flowers this much in my life; with their absence they are sorely missed. Life is more beautiful with seasons.
home is not a place, it’s a state of mind
Dublin, you sure know how to treat a lady.
Spent some time in jail/gaol then frolicked under rainbows through green fields and finished up the night with shepard’s pie and a glass of Jameson. Just another Monday in Dublin.
drinking some holy water from the Vatican. this has really cured my hangover. pretty sure it’s a miracle.
these pictures awaken ancient memories
Always beautiful to see the sun rise in one city and set in the next.
greedily inhaling Dutch culture.
preparing myself for the coming of the sound and fury of Koninginnedag.
I’m all sixes and sevens and nines.
It’s raining outside and I’m lost in the storm cloud of my own thoughts.
I feel like a fish in water.
I need to call a lady about a dog.
champagne you are a cruel mistress.
I have the strangest luck sometimes.
2 days until my art show, 5 days until my final exams, 20 Days until I’m kicked out of my studio art for good, 40 days until my final exam for painting at the Accademia, 41 days until I start house-sitting in Rome, and exactly 70 days left of my Italian adventure, and 71 Days until I return to America a different woman.
It just feels like time is slipping through my fingers at an exponential rate.
how does one pack away an entire life-changing year? I’m going to need an armada of suitcases to haul back these memories.
empty chianti bottles. maps. ticket stubs. old boarding passes. receipts. loose change originating from separate continents. drawings and paintings scattered everywhere…
E’ sembra che non abitavo in Italia. E’ sembra che quest’estate e’ l’estate scorso. Tutto e’ ugale, ma tutto e’ differente. Mi manca moltissimo Firenze. Mi manca i profumi e i puzzi quando caminavo. Mi manca le stesse faccie italiane che vedevo. Mi manca la bellezza meravigliosa di Firenze. Veramente sono tanto tanto triste per partenza dal Italia. Non sono brava a dire arriverderci. Preferisco dire ci vediamo a dopo. Adesso rimango in California, perche c’e sempre una bellezza unica nel posto che crescevo.