You Put the Rue in Ruin

If you and I made ravioli, they would sucker punch the stuffing out of Big Bird and his league of cohorts.
We synergize like cosmic Velcro.
Every shared thought another link in the chain link Zoot suit that balloons out with a gas so toxic it turns Teflon into silken lace.
We zip-line from aerated prawns over to mandolin-playing carnies who speak fluent Portuguese without missing a beat.
Moonbouncing upward like an adolescent hero scaling video game chair lifts toward a giant provolone cheese wheel.
If I had a penny for every time I beat you to your own punchline, I would have many pennies.

I can only partially rue the day I met you.
You lured me in like an angler fish playing mariachi music.
My face veiled by sunglasses the first time, mathematical face paint the second time.
The probability you came to the party to check me out: 1
Your slow motion dance moves were surprisingly effective. You even serenaded a plastic bag coyly perched on the dance floor.
I thought I had the upper hand, but the tables mesmerize me with how they have turned in on themselves like whole wheat pasta dough that needs more water.
Crumbled and flaky on the heirloom place mat that never seems to be big enough to contain the mess.

The thing about being brain twins is that you should know what I’m thinking.
You should know how trapped I feel, trying to rationalize a situation over which I have no control.
Pros and cons might as well be dead leaves on the sidewalk.
Some prettier than others but all nonetheless expired
Like moths in a vat of honey.

Summer

So this afternoon, I'm going to an interview at a company that I really have no interest in working for. Is this what adult life is all about? Feigning interest in order to reap unfulfilling employment? I'm being melodramatic, but it seems scary to think that what I want isn't out there so I have to shrink my expectations and accept what's available. I was hoping to gain some meaningful real-world internship experience this summer so I could start to think about how my BFA can translate into something worthwhile. I don't see myself as a studio artist and I think I'm too snarky for teaching in the arts. Then, there's another opportunity that would involve expense-paid world travel to do fun activities with small military children, which seems more fun. However, I just don't know if I'm considering it because it would provide a delay in my entering the real world as an adult or because I am really into it. I'm sure it would be a blast.

Hmmmm...I think I just need to go to the City Museum asap. That will surely solve everything.

Covenant?

Two days ago I accidentally semi-circumcised one of my fingers thanks to an overzealous x-acto knife. The injury is not that inhibiting except that typing without typos is harder than keeping allusions to "the Office" under 5 a day for some people...

This episode of self-hackery is just the latest addition to my accident-prone lifestyle. I'm currently enrolled in a glass class (I've wanted to work with molten glass for a long time. This is the step before that bundle of safety) and recently lodged a tiny shard of glass into the fleshy tip of another one of my fingers. I use my hands for everything yet I seem so careless when it comes to their well-being. I suppose if I was a math major (ha!) I wouldn't have to worry as much about sharp objects (besides pencil tips, that is). But alas, my hands-on approach to the world leaves me with scratches, burns, cuts, and bruises. I'm used to it by now, which is what scares me.

My current primary wound is on my left index finger, which I keep out of the way while typing, washing hands, etc. I'm reminded of one of my most favorite books of all time: A Prayer for Owen Meany because of a major character's loss of a particular digit in order to circumnavigate the draft. Although, the romanticized similarity is slightly glamorous (well, I guess I'm not even left-handed and there is no need to fear being drafted...), I would prefer to keep all my phalanges intact. I hereby make a pact with myself to be less careless and clumsy. My goal is to reduce clutziness by 15% in the current fiscal year.

existential crisis

The internet is so strange. In terms of printmaking, it is the most democratic form of spreading ideas (and art). Take any conglomeration of typeface and imagery. Post it (with or without instructions for printing and distribution). And voila'! The conceptual framework for a democratic revolution.

What makes blogging better than keeping an old-fashioned diary? The former lacks the therapeutic release of handwritten curvilinear scrawls. There is no need for editing when pouring out your unapologetic intestinal ramblings!! Keeping a diary is like spinning a spider web. Have you ever tried it?? Not the easiest thing in the world. But think about it. Individual handwriting says a lot about someone (for instance, how often said person takes pen to paper in lieu of typewritten thought transcriptions). Diaries are sacred. They are locked and swathed in a veil of intimacy that the voyeuristic internet rips apart. So the point then is to share information with others. To share good news, exciting travel updates, post pictures, spread ideas, remove personalization and increase efficiency. Well, I guess it's still personal for the author, but not for the readers.

I know this is a super unradical thought, but I'm still struggling with it. Who am I blogging for now that I'm not traveling? For myself? To feign connections with others? Should I really just keep my incessant cerebral oscillations to myself? Does posting it to the world wide web make me an e-spider? (My secret Greek superhero name is Ariadne) What do old posts collecting e-dust reveal about me that I might not want a stranger to know? Do I care what strangers or people I used to know know about me?

Maybe just purging myself of these toxic hang-ups will help somehow. Here's hoping

Ελλάδα

I was able to remember my second trip to Greece much better than the first, which was 19 years ago. My sister, Josie, and I visited the family of our mother's high school penpal. How obscurely awesome is that? 

I'm getting so spoiled with European generosity. Despina became our endearlingly  overprotective Greek mother for the week (except when we went out at night). We had the best care, food, and lost in translation laughs you can possibly imagine. Our first major outing was to take four different trains to get to a secluded mountain village called Kalavrita. The last train on the journey had only two cars with an engine in between. The ride up was gorgeous with lush forests and swollen rapids on either side of the train tracks. It was truly an unforgettable experience. 

 

Eleni and Despina speak English very well. Eleni's husband Simon and Simon's mother Yia Yia (Greek for grandma) are another story. Simon was our private chauffeur one day and we saw a plethora of important places such as Sounion (the Temple of Neptune) and Marathon (including the large man-made lake of Marathon). We stopped in Marathon for a snack which consisted of Ouzo (to clear our senses) and various animals with tentacles. Keep in mind that we had no idea what had been ordered. I tried everything in order to be polite, but man was that boiled octupus chewwwwy. I would recommend trying grilled octupus, however. It was actually pretty tasty (and the suckers are crunchy). 

I really wish I could understand Simon. I tried speaking in Italian hoping there was some crossover, but that was a grande fallimento. He made a joke about Obama that was later translated by Despina for us to understand. Simon said that when God made Obama he had been drinking too much Ouzo and left Obama in the oven too long... I think the Ouzo in our own systems allowed us to find that horribly racist joke hilarious.

The next few days Josie and I ventured into Athens via public transportation. We spread out the places to see so as not to get too worn out. We saw the Acropolis, the Olympion, the Archeological museum, Ermou avenue for shopping, Plaka neighborhood with lovely neoclassical houses, the changing of the Guards at the Parliament building, the National Art Gallery, and my personal favorite: the Benaki Museum. There was so much to take in! 

We went to Athens at night twice with Despina to get a feel for the Greek night life. One night we watched the sunset from the Acropolis rock and then walked around and tried Souvlaki (sooooo good).

Our last full day Eleni drove us to Delphi aka the center of the world. It was great! We hiked through the ruins (Ancient Greeks were in excellent shape) and then checked out the museum. Our lunch was a 45 min drive outside of Delphi, right next to the water. The owner of the restaurant was a painter so I showed him the watercolor paintings I had with me. 

Here's the Greek I picked up:

ευχαριστώ "eharisto'" (thank you)

παρακαλώ "parakalo'"(please/you're welcome)

μετά "meta" (after)

ναι "neh" (yes)

λίγος "ligo" (little)

καλός "kalo" (good)
πολύ καλά "palli' kalo'" (very good)

εντάξει! "daxsis" (ok)

πάμε! "pame" (let's go)

Foto reflections

We had to write an essay on how Florence has changed us and I wanted to transcribe it here for your viewing pleasure:

Living in Florence has forced me to be less passive. I am constantly active in this city. Be it visually: looking at light, shape, and form; auditorally: listening for snippets of languages coming into focus; or just in general trying to catch buses and be on time. My observation skills have improved. A lot of the time I try to mimic the people who seem to know what they are doing (language and life-wise). 

Overall, I'm learning to be more independent and at the same time fostering meaningful relationships with my peers here. It's funny to think I had never seen some of these people before in St Louis. I realize now that Florence has done wonders for my social life.

I'm starting to achieve a rewarding sense of clarity about my life up to this point and possibly how it may go in the future.

I enjoy incorporating photography into the other things I create. It's an interesting way of generating a new generation of ideas. It's really cool to experiment in the darkroom and then build on the images.

I certainly feel like I've come a long way since the first days of photography when I didn't understand filters per niente... Now I feel totally confident with approximating how much contrast would be complimentary to the composition. Burning and dodging still evade me a bit, but I try to take photos with even light.

I'm pleased to be able to take photos of my relatives and hand develop them as a thoughtful thank you. Manual photography reminds me of growing one's own vegetable garden. In the world of digital cameras and facebook, we have become disconnected from where pictures really come from. I enjoy getting "back to [the] nature" of photography. It's a specialized skill that I am pleased to understand (at least the basics). I hope to keep using photography. For utilitarian gifts as well as artistic exploration.

Taking Photo I in Florence was an incredible opportunity. I'm thrilled to have another level of documentation of my time here. It matches my endearance to snail mail. I love the hand-visibility of manual photography and hand written letters. It makes me think of having more contact with people I can't see very often. 

Pasqua!

This weekend was incredible!! I was completely and satisfactorily exhausted from each day's activities. Friday was spent in the country (campagna, not campania) house Vibeke, Carlo, and Federico are fixing up. The weather was a lovely as the view. I attempted to paint eggs after blowing out the insides. It was a nice tedious task that kept me occupied. After our grand lunch we played some Trivial Pursuit, Italian Edition (with the bambini questions). It was an interesting way to learn some new vocab, however obscure.

Saturday I went to Rome with Federico. We saw a Giotto and the Trecento show (it was funny to see things from Firenze that I hadn't seen yet), the Vatican, a Modern Art Museum, and other things in between. We made spotting tourists into a game and we spoke in English for a bit to play the role of tourists more convincingly ourselves. One of the funniest moments was when a guard at the Vatican told Federico (native Italian with blond hair and blue eyes) that he spoke Italian "molto bene." We didn't get back to Olevano until after 8 after leaving Olevano at 8 in the morning. Lonnnng day. Lots of fun. :] Later Luisa, Luisa's friend, Federico and I went out and ate pizza at a hoppin' pizzeria. It was cool to hang out. The waiters were intrigued/appalled by my inky fingernails so I tried to explain about how I'm an artist and that's how we do. 

Sunday started off with a lovely Pasqua breakfast and just kept getting better. The Carlo clan and I headed to the northeast of Rome to meet up with Danish contacts.  We first stopped in Farfa and poked around the town that dates back to the year 600. There was an abbey stuffed to the gills for Easter mass and a bunch of picturesque shops. At the house, there was a triple-ringed venn diagram of languages. Some people spoke only English or Danish. Some spoke English or Italian. Some spoke Danish, Italian, and English. It was a very unique experience. We played "pallone" aka soccer for a while. Let's just say I shocked the pants off of everyone with my soccer skills. I was the only girl playing; the rest were boys and dads. It was especially bizarre looking because I was wearing a flower cardigan, skirt, pantyhose, and boots. (Eventually I borrowed shoes.) I realized how much I miss soccer! I haven't played since last summer at Interlochen. We played in between the delicious courses of the meal and then after for a while. I was very content. It was a nice way to bridge the language barrier.

Monday I prepared American breakfast for my hosts: "Eggs in a Basket" and bacon. They found the egg incorporated into the bread rather puzzling, but it went over ok. Not only did I take an especially long time cooking, but there were also 20 minutes of taking pictures to document the event! By the time we actually ate breakfast it was practically time for lunch. Before Pasquetta lunch we drove up to the Alti Piani (through a field of rather large cows) to a mountain spring for water. The view was gorgeous. It's amazing to me how drastically altitude varies within a smallish distance in Italy. Lunch was really delicious but waaaaay too much food. I wanted to try everything, but it was simply impossible. After lunch I did a watercolor sketch of the view from Federico's terrace. It was pretty chilly up there. I can't wait to see it in full bloom in summer!