My dearest beauty,
Each day I walk the streets reveling in your company. If I get lost at night I do not feel safe or secure until I can see you standing in front of me. Your magnificence and beauty strike me with awe each time I see you. I cannot thank your brilliant designer enough for gracing me with your company.
Just knowing that you exist motivates me through my day. You make any bad day better with just one glimpse of your beauty. Thinking of how much you have been through, how much you have had to face in all your years inspires me and gives me courage. I know, because of you, that great things never fade. For you will live forever, in my memory and in my heart.
My dearest I dread to think of the day we must part, when I must leave this city of magic and history and leave you behind. How many have come and left you before? The thought breaks my heart. You deserve the greatest adoration possible. You deserve to be flattered and spoiled and loved. I cannot think of the last time I will see you and how it will upset me. I know that I will be back to visit you, because I can never truly abandon such magnificence as you.
Thank you for each time you've made me smile, each time you've reminded me how lucky I am to be alive and to be here with you. Thank you for all you have done for me and all you will continue to do in our brief time together.
Forevers yours,
Tara
Friday, September 30, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Sometimes...
Sometimes things just don't go our way. Sometimes we get the flu, or lose our camera. Sometimes we lose our wallet or get our credit card blocked. Sometimes our classmates make our lives difficult and all we want to do is give up. Sometimes we can't stand the people we are expected to live with for a year. Sometimes it's our fault and sometimes it isn't and sometimes it's easy to fix and sometimes it isn't. Either way we find ourselves stressed out and overwhelmed, which leads to an unwelcome mix of frustration, anger and just being downright upset. And no matter what we do or what other's say we just can't seem to shake that feeling. Like you have a raincloud over your head that just won't go away… and your umbrella has a hole in it.
Everyone has their own way of dealing with days, or even weeks like this. No one way in particular works or doesn't work. Personally I like to either escape from my troubles into a good book or a mind numbing tv show, or (more often than not) just eat my troubles away with an entire tub of ice cream. Whether this works for you or not it is important to find a way to get through those tough times. Find a light at the end of the tunnel and keep your eyes on it at all costs. It may be counting down the days until you can go home, or applying to a new school, or treating yourself to dinner or eating the whole tub of ice cream. Find something that makes you feel better and do it, and keep doing it until one day your troubles don't trouble you as much. That's not to say any big problems will disappear over night, but when you can find yourself in a place where the problem still exists but you don't have to be upset because of it then you can truly conquer that problem and come out of the whole experience for the better. It may take time, it may be hard, but it will be worth it in the end, even if just to say that you survived.
My advice to you when in one of these unfortunate moods is to focus on the positive. Small things make a big difference. Think of the last time you were happy and carefree, remember how it felt and why you felt that way then remind yourself how to feel that way again. A wise person once told me "If you look at yourself in the mirror when you're feeling down and smile you will instantly feel at least a little better." Sure, you might feel stupid and sure, it may not work the first time but if you let yourself you can and you will feel better. And then you can tackle your problems one rain drop at a time… or just go out and buy a new umbrella.
Everyone has their own way of dealing with days, or even weeks like this. No one way in particular works or doesn't work. Personally I like to either escape from my troubles into a good book or a mind numbing tv show, or (more often than not) just eat my troubles away with an entire tub of ice cream. Whether this works for you or not it is important to find a way to get through those tough times. Find a light at the end of the tunnel and keep your eyes on it at all costs. It may be counting down the days until you can go home, or applying to a new school, or treating yourself to dinner or eating the whole tub of ice cream. Find something that makes you feel better and do it, and keep doing it until one day your troubles don't trouble you as much. That's not to say any big problems will disappear over night, but when you can find yourself in a place where the problem still exists but you don't have to be upset because of it then you can truly conquer that problem and come out of the whole experience for the better. It may take time, it may be hard, but it will be worth it in the end, even if just to say that you survived.
My advice to you when in one of these unfortunate moods is to focus on the positive. Small things make a big difference. Think of the last time you were happy and carefree, remember how it felt and why you felt that way then remind yourself how to feel that way again. A wise person once told me "If you look at yourself in the mirror when you're feeling down and smile you will instantly feel at least a little better." Sure, you might feel stupid and sure, it may not work the first time but if you let yourself you can and you will feel better. And then you can tackle your problems one rain drop at a time… or just go out and buy a new umbrella.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Beer, beer and then some more beer: Oktoberfest 2011!
What a weekend!
On Thursday night some of my friends and I took an 8 hour bus to Munich, Germany for none other than the Oktoberfest! We arrived early Friday morning, and naturally started drinking as soon as we got off the bus (the campsite we were staying at offered free beer and you cannot say no to free beer!)
The first day was spent exploring Munich before we braved the hustle and bustle and drunken crazy-ness of Oktoberfest as we weren't altogether sure we'd make it out alive :P We went for what was supposed to be a biking tour of the city, but the tour was over-booked so there were not enough bikes for the bike tour. It seemed silly, almost even annoying, but my roommate and I managed to score a tandem bicycle so we could still participate. Have you ever ridden a tandem bike? No? Well neither have I! That one and a half minutes of tandem biking was the hardest, most terrifying one and a half minutes of my life. After failing miserably at the challenge of tandem biking my roommate and I lost our group and ended up standing alone on an unfamiliar street in Munich tandem bike in hands. Needless to say we were off to a rocky start. But we were in Munich and we were still together so it wasn't all that bad. We knew enough of our surroundings to walk back to the head office of the bike tour and tell them our problem. They said sorry, they couldn't help us but if we wanted we could still meet the rest of our friends for lunch, we would just have to walk there. We ended up having a private tour from a friendly British man dressed in traditional lederhosen who knew little to nothing about Munich but did his utmost to tell us everything he could. It could have been three hours of nothing but lies but he was convincing and very nice to go out of his way to help us out. We met our friends for lunch, had our first beers in Munich that we actually had to pay for, and then walked back. On the way I stopped to buy my dirndl, a necessity for Oktoberfest. I managed to find the cheapest one in the country as I was told, and wore it proudly. Afterwards we met up with a group from our campsite, not the friends we had come with but they would do, and walked towards Oktoberfest. The tour guide had no idea where he was going but luckily I could read a map so together we lead 20 or 30 students eager for beer towards the biggest beer festival in the world.
And so it all began.
As soon as we got there my roommate and I got separated yet again, but by now we were used to wandering around by ourselves. We went on some rides and bought some food, not yet brave enough to splash out the 10 euro it costs for a beer. It was a good first evening at Oktoberfest, but we called it a night relatively early and headed back to the campsite for more free beer and drunken disorderliness. That first night was too crazy to even mention here (no, I did not get drunk- I don't like being drunk and to be honest I don't even really like beer so I wasn't in too much danger there) but believe me when I say it was crazy.
The next morning we got up bright and early to beat the crowds (unsuccessfully). Some friends and I tackled our way into the Spatenbrau tent, planning to spend an hour or two, and emerged five hours later. We ate, we drank, we danced on benches, we made friends with everyone who could understand at least two words of English as none of us spoke German, and we drank some more. We spent the rest of the day wandering around the surprisingly warm and sunny streets of Oktoberfest. We went on some rides, ate some more, drank some more and just generally enjoyed each other's company. Again, we called it quits relatively early, opting to take one of our excessively drunk friends back to the camp rather than trying to keep her conscious and coherent amongst the throng on thousands, if not millions of similarly drunk tourists and Germans alike. Back at the campsite we, as I'm sure you can guess, drank some more. There was a free meal, or rather inclusive meal as we did shed a pretty penny for the trip in it's entirety, and music and more free beer and more new friends to be made. That night was probably the most fun and the most ridiculously drunken nights I have experienced- again I was not drunk but everyone else around me was.
The last day was spent tiredly wandering through the festival once more, finding our way into a tent and buying souvenirs as gifts. We took it easy back at the campsite until we had to get back on the bus and sit through another 8 hours of traveling.
General summary of the weekend?
One small Dirndl: 38 euro
One liter of beer: 10 euro
most amazing hotdog I've ever had: 8 euro
present for my sister: 4 euro
Oktoberfest as a whole…. Absolutely priceless!!
On Thursday night some of my friends and I took an 8 hour bus to Munich, Germany for none other than the Oktoberfest! We arrived early Friday morning, and naturally started drinking as soon as we got off the bus (the campsite we were staying at offered free beer and you cannot say no to free beer!)
The first day was spent exploring Munich before we braved the hustle and bustle and drunken crazy-ness of Oktoberfest as we weren't altogether sure we'd make it out alive :P We went for what was supposed to be a biking tour of the city, but the tour was over-booked so there were not enough bikes for the bike tour. It seemed silly, almost even annoying, but my roommate and I managed to score a tandem bicycle so we could still participate. Have you ever ridden a tandem bike? No? Well neither have I! That one and a half minutes of tandem biking was the hardest, most terrifying one and a half minutes of my life. After failing miserably at the challenge of tandem biking my roommate and I lost our group and ended up standing alone on an unfamiliar street in Munich tandem bike in hands. Needless to say we were off to a rocky start. But we were in Munich and we were still together so it wasn't all that bad. We knew enough of our surroundings to walk back to the head office of the bike tour and tell them our problem. They said sorry, they couldn't help us but if we wanted we could still meet the rest of our friends for lunch, we would just have to walk there. We ended up having a private tour from a friendly British man dressed in traditional lederhosen who knew little to nothing about Munich but did his utmost to tell us everything he could. It could have been three hours of nothing but lies but he was convincing and very nice to go out of his way to help us out. We met our friends for lunch, had our first beers in Munich that we actually had to pay for, and then walked back. On the way I stopped to buy my dirndl, a necessity for Oktoberfest. I managed to find the cheapest one in the country as I was told, and wore it proudly. Afterwards we met up with a group from our campsite, not the friends we had come with but they would do, and walked towards Oktoberfest. The tour guide had no idea where he was going but luckily I could read a map so together we lead 20 or 30 students eager for beer towards the biggest beer festival in the world.
And so it all began.
As soon as we got there my roommate and I got separated yet again, but by now we were used to wandering around by ourselves. We went on some rides and bought some food, not yet brave enough to splash out the 10 euro it costs for a beer. It was a good first evening at Oktoberfest, but we called it a night relatively early and headed back to the campsite for more free beer and drunken disorderliness. That first night was too crazy to even mention here (no, I did not get drunk- I don't like being drunk and to be honest I don't even really like beer so I wasn't in too much danger there) but believe me when I say it was crazy.
The next morning we got up bright and early to beat the crowds (unsuccessfully). Some friends and I tackled our way into the Spatenbrau tent, planning to spend an hour or two, and emerged five hours later. We ate, we drank, we danced on benches, we made friends with everyone who could understand at least two words of English as none of us spoke German, and we drank some more. We spent the rest of the day wandering around the surprisingly warm and sunny streets of Oktoberfest. We went on some rides, ate some more, drank some more and just generally enjoyed each other's company. Again, we called it quits relatively early, opting to take one of our excessively drunk friends back to the camp rather than trying to keep her conscious and coherent amongst the throng on thousands, if not millions of similarly drunk tourists and Germans alike. Back at the campsite we, as I'm sure you can guess, drank some more. There was a free meal, or rather inclusive meal as we did shed a pretty penny for the trip in it's entirety, and music and more free beer and more new friends to be made. That night was probably the most fun and the most ridiculously drunken nights I have experienced- again I was not drunk but everyone else around me was.
The last day was spent tiredly wandering through the festival once more, finding our way into a tent and buying souvenirs as gifts. We took it easy back at the campsite until we had to get back on the bus and sit through another 8 hours of traveling.
General summary of the weekend?
One small Dirndl: 38 euro
One liter of beer: 10 euro
most amazing hotdog I've ever had: 8 euro
present for my sister: 4 euro
Oktoberfest as a whole…. Absolutely priceless!!
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Eat, Pray, Love.
For the past couple of days I have been in a funk. That's the best way I can describe it. I haven't been sad, I haven't been stressed or overworked. I just haven't been happy. Even today I slept in, stayed in my pajamas for half the day feeling uninspired for the paper I had to write for Psychology and frustrated by the mediocrity of my day.
How foolish is that? Sitting in my apartment in Florence in the middle of the day frustrated with mediocrity. Suffice to say I realized just how ridiculous I was being, got myself off the couch and into the shower and went outside.
I walked out of my house, not sure where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do, and ended up in a bookstore. I browsed through the Italian books, pretending to know what I was looking at, and eventually found my way to the English section of the store. As soon as I saw the book I knew I had to buy it and I knew my day was about to get better.
Walking out of the store 10 euro poorer but a million times happier I went straight to my favorite café, bought chocolate gelato (which I'm surprised I hadn't tried yet) and went to Santa Maria Novella. Sitting on the damp grass in the humid day I polished off my gelato and cracked open Eat, Pray, Love.
I had been meaning to read this book for a while. I made a point to see the movie before I came to Italy for obvious reasons. She spends a year in Italy, India and Indonesia. I'm spending my entire year in Italy, and maybe not for the same reasons but anyone who lives abroad has similar hopes and expectations. I hope to find myself, I hope to grow, I hope to learn and love and enjoy life. And so far, I am. I may not be in love, I do not pray, but I sure as hell eat!
I've read the first 6 chapters of the book, no great feat as each chapter is only about 2 pages, but so far I love it. I love her humor and her blunt honesty. And I love her courage. Not only to throw herself into the unknown, but to share that personal and frightening experience with the world through her words.
I am no longer in a slump. I'm happy to be sitting at the kitchen table with my roommates. I'm excited to be going to Munich tonight for the weekend. I'm eager to cook myself dinner, something I did not do enough while I was living with my father.
I'm learning, I'm loving and enjoying life, and above all I am happy.
How foolish is that? Sitting in my apartment in Florence in the middle of the day frustrated with mediocrity. Suffice to say I realized just how ridiculous I was being, got myself off the couch and into the shower and went outside.
I walked out of my house, not sure where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do, and ended up in a bookstore. I browsed through the Italian books, pretending to know what I was looking at, and eventually found my way to the English section of the store. As soon as I saw the book I knew I had to buy it and I knew my day was about to get better.
Walking out of the store 10 euro poorer but a million times happier I went straight to my favorite café, bought chocolate gelato (which I'm surprised I hadn't tried yet) and went to Santa Maria Novella. Sitting on the damp grass in the humid day I polished off my gelato and cracked open Eat, Pray, Love.
I had been meaning to read this book for a while. I made a point to see the movie before I came to Italy for obvious reasons. She spends a year in Italy, India and Indonesia. I'm spending my entire year in Italy, and maybe not for the same reasons but anyone who lives abroad has similar hopes and expectations. I hope to find myself, I hope to grow, I hope to learn and love and enjoy life. And so far, I am. I may not be in love, I do not pray, but I sure as hell eat!
I've read the first 6 chapters of the book, no great feat as each chapter is only about 2 pages, but so far I love it. I love her humor and her blunt honesty. And I love her courage. Not only to throw herself into the unknown, but to share that personal and frightening experience with the world through her words.
I am no longer in a slump. I'm happy to be sitting at the kitchen table with my roommates. I'm excited to be going to Munich tonight for the weekend. I'm eager to cook myself dinner, something I did not do enough while I was living with my father.
I'm learning, I'm loving and enjoying life, and above all I am happy.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Life is What You Make it.
I had an amazing weekend. I spent most of Saturday doing a walking tour of the ancient city of Pompeii, once a great Roman colony then destroyed by the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius (so named because they were unaware that it was a volcano) now a well preserved and fascinating time capsule. I was on a student trip offered through my study abroad program, and was lucky enough to meet quite a few amazing people. We then spent the night in a hotel in Sorrento and visited a fresh limoncello factory. Bright and early Sunday morning we took a ferry to the small beautiful island of Capri and spent the day swimming and exploring in the sun. Late that night we finally arrived home. Unfortunately during the course of the trip I lost my camera. I foolishly left it in the hotel room in Sorrento and when I called the hotel they said it was nowhere to be found. I woke up the next morning exhausted from the weekend's adventures, not having had much sleep. I went to my morning class and found it hard to concentrate as I felt a headache coming on, the kind you know will last all day.
Upset about my camera, frustrated by my aching head and still exhausted instead of sitting out in the sun to do my homework like I normally would I decided to take a nap before my next class. I don't like to waste time being so lazy when living in such an amazing city, but it was just shaping up to be one of those days. I awoke a couple hours later, expecting to feel refreshed, renewed and rejuvenated, but that proved to be high expectations because I felt the same, if not worse than before. Somehow in the period of my nap my mild headache had turned into a slight fever and a runny nose as well. I hate being sick, it happens to me quite a lot as my immune system was over worked when I was a child and I suppose it is just lazy now. I'm traveling again on Thursday and the last thing I wanted was to get sick a couple days before! I tried to deny it, telling myself that if I thought healthy thoughts I would feel healthy (I am a firm believer in mind over matter). Some things, however, are just not feasible.
It was around this time that I was flipping through a little notebook I keep with me that has everything from my grocery lists to my thoughts to my drafts for what I am going to post on this blog. I found a short entry that read simply 'Life is what you make it.' I remember writing that, I remember having listened to a girl on the trip with me talking at dinner in Sorrento about how much she disliked Florence and how she just wanted to go home to her boyfriend and I thought to myself Life is what you make it.
If I sit inside all day wallowing in self pity for having lost my camera and for being sick I will feel pitiful. If I go out to dinner with a friend instead, share a scrumptious pizza and a bottle of wine and walk home under the stars I may not be miraculously healthy all of a sudden but I will be a hell of a lot happier than sitting at home. If you expect life to be great you have to make it great, otherwise your expectations will not be met. I've been sitting at my computer for three days now trying to string together a positive blog post to share with the internet world and failing because I was not feeling very positive. I was waiting for the words to come to me but in truth I had to go out and find them. I forced myself to go outside to do my homework today, I still felt sick, I was still tired, and I was feeling lazy and bored but I put my mythology book into my bag and pushed myself out the door. I didn't end up going my homework, I didn't even end up sitting down. Instead I walked around this city that I call home, weaving in and out of tourists, bypassing a leather market and yes, I may have gone window shopping and yes that window shopping may have turned into actually purchasing two things (it's not retail therapy unless you actually buy something!) and yes I probably should have sat in the sun and done my homework instead. But at least I didn't sit inside and feel sorry for myself.
I'm still sick, but I feel better. Mind over matter. Thinking healthy may not make me healthy, but thinking happy makes me happy.
Upset about my camera, frustrated by my aching head and still exhausted instead of sitting out in the sun to do my homework like I normally would I decided to take a nap before my next class. I don't like to waste time being so lazy when living in such an amazing city, but it was just shaping up to be one of those days. I awoke a couple hours later, expecting to feel refreshed, renewed and rejuvenated, but that proved to be high expectations because I felt the same, if not worse than before. Somehow in the period of my nap my mild headache had turned into a slight fever and a runny nose as well. I hate being sick, it happens to me quite a lot as my immune system was over worked when I was a child and I suppose it is just lazy now. I'm traveling again on Thursday and the last thing I wanted was to get sick a couple days before! I tried to deny it, telling myself that if I thought healthy thoughts I would feel healthy (I am a firm believer in mind over matter). Some things, however, are just not feasible.
It was around this time that I was flipping through a little notebook I keep with me that has everything from my grocery lists to my thoughts to my drafts for what I am going to post on this blog. I found a short entry that read simply 'Life is what you make it.' I remember writing that, I remember having listened to a girl on the trip with me talking at dinner in Sorrento about how much she disliked Florence and how she just wanted to go home to her boyfriend and I thought to myself Life is what you make it.
If I sit inside all day wallowing in self pity for having lost my camera and for being sick I will feel pitiful. If I go out to dinner with a friend instead, share a scrumptious pizza and a bottle of wine and walk home under the stars I may not be miraculously healthy all of a sudden but I will be a hell of a lot happier than sitting at home. If you expect life to be great you have to make it great, otherwise your expectations will not be met. I've been sitting at my computer for three days now trying to string together a positive blog post to share with the internet world and failing because I was not feeling very positive. I was waiting for the words to come to me but in truth I had to go out and find them. I forced myself to go outside to do my homework today, I still felt sick, I was still tired, and I was feeling lazy and bored but I put my mythology book into my bag and pushed myself out the door. I didn't end up going my homework, I didn't even end up sitting down. Instead I walked around this city that I call home, weaving in and out of tourists, bypassing a leather market and yes, I may have gone window shopping and yes that window shopping may have turned into actually purchasing two things (it's not retail therapy unless you actually buy something!) and yes I probably should have sat in the sun and done my homework instead. But at least I didn't sit inside and feel sorry for myself.
I'm still sick, but I feel better. Mind over matter. Thinking healthy may not make me healthy, but thinking happy makes me happy.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Happiness.
I've been thinking about happiness a lot lately. Not just the feeling but the word, the definition of it. According to the Oxford Dictionary happiness, [noun] is the state of being happy. But what does that mean? What does it mean to be happy?
I fear that often we give in to other's definition of happiness. Hollywood romance movies lead us to believe happiness is having a significant other, friends want us to believe happiness is the feeling we have when we are only with them, teachers trick us into thinking happiness is success and so on and so forth. Don't let anyone or anything define your happiness. Make your own meaning for the word!
I recently heard a very sad story. A sixteen year old boy, unable to define his own happiness, took his own life. I did not know him personally but I knew many people who did. Their sadness and confusion upset me greatly as I thought about how young he was and how much he still had to experience and learn. I will admit that I can relate to this sixteen year old boy, I think in some way most of us can. Teenage years today are hard, and confusing, and stressful and sometimes it's all we can do not to give up. But if you suffer through it long enough, and try hard enough, soon you will find you are not suffering at all. I only wish he had given himself enough time to see that. May he rest in peace.
I found my own happiness. Not in my new roommates that quickly became great friends, not in the boy that makes me smile, not in my sister and my parent's support and love, not even in the city that I am living in and loving every day- though they all contribute to it. I found happiness in myself. It was always there, I just didn't see it.
Recently the happiest I have felt is sitting by myself in a patch of grass with my homework spread around me and the sun shining on my face, surrounded by tourists and locals alike as we all share in the history and the comfort of the Santa Maria Novella.
Maybe you won't find your happiness if you look for it. Maybe happiness has to find you. But don't give up before it does. Every small moment of happiness is greater than a million moments of stress or doubt or anxiety. Every smile triumphs over tears.
'Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you.
- Hafiz of Persia'
I hope that quote makes you smile, as it did for me. And above all, I hope happiness finds you if it hasn't already.
I fear that often we give in to other's definition of happiness. Hollywood romance movies lead us to believe happiness is having a significant other, friends want us to believe happiness is the feeling we have when we are only with them, teachers trick us into thinking happiness is success and so on and so forth. Don't let anyone or anything define your happiness. Make your own meaning for the word!
I recently heard a very sad story. A sixteen year old boy, unable to define his own happiness, took his own life. I did not know him personally but I knew many people who did. Their sadness and confusion upset me greatly as I thought about how young he was and how much he still had to experience and learn. I will admit that I can relate to this sixteen year old boy, I think in some way most of us can. Teenage years today are hard, and confusing, and stressful and sometimes it's all we can do not to give up. But if you suffer through it long enough, and try hard enough, soon you will find you are not suffering at all. I only wish he had given himself enough time to see that. May he rest in peace.
I found my own happiness. Not in my new roommates that quickly became great friends, not in the boy that makes me smile, not in my sister and my parent's support and love, not even in the city that I am living in and loving every day- though they all contribute to it. I found happiness in myself. It was always there, I just didn't see it.
Recently the happiest I have felt is sitting by myself in a patch of grass with my homework spread around me and the sun shining on my face, surrounded by tourists and locals alike as we all share in the history and the comfort of the Santa Maria Novella.
Maybe you won't find your happiness if you look for it. Maybe happiness has to find you. But don't give up before it does. Every small moment of happiness is greater than a million moments of stress or doubt or anxiety. Every smile triumphs over tears.
'Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you.
- Hafiz of Persia'
I hope that quote makes you smile, as it did for me. And above all, I hope happiness finds you if it hasn't already.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Renaissance
One of the most interesting classes I am taking this semester is Renaissance Civilization and Culture. Aside from my love of history and passion for learning about events in the past that shaped the present I am in awe at how much of what I learn in the classroom is all around me in this beautiful, ancient city. Today my professor said he had a surprise for us. An hour into the class he said, in his merry Italian accent "Now we'll take a ten minute break, and then meet me downstairs." My class and I complied, meeting him at a small café outside of our building. He then took us on a walking tour of the Renaissance. One block away from where we were sitting in class taking notes we walked into a small, often overlooked but still occupied Church. The resting place of one of the bankers to the Medici family. We stood in between the tombs of him and his wife and listened as our teacher explained the significance of the beautiful frescos on the wall in front of us. Out the doors and across the street we stood at the entrance to the palace of a wealthy merchant family of Renaissance Florence. I can't describe the feeling of awe and privilege I felt standing amongst such history.
In my opinion you haven't lived until you have traveled, and you haven't learnt until you have walked through history.
In my opinion you haven't lived until you have traveled, and you haven't learnt until you have walked through history.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Thoughts from a place; Santa Maria Novella
There's something about starting your day with a cappuccino with a smiley face drawn on top. Something about already being a regular at a little café around the corner from the little apartment I already call home. Something about the satisfaction of ordering in Italian. Has it only been two weeks? Not even; 12 days. And I have more to say of those twelve days than twelve years of my life. I found a new route to an already familiar building. I find new happiness in my familiar life. And I've found a place to call my own.
It's a place I share with hundreds of people yesterday, today, and tomorrow. A place with history and full of hope. I probably would not have come to appreciate this place if not for my roommate and friend, but now I call it mine. I find peace here, in simply sitting in the sun to do my homework, watching the world around me. It is not passing me by or leaving me behind. It is bustling and lively and vibrant and I am as much a part of it as the family passing by, or the tourists taking pictures, or the restaurant owners serving their customers or the children playing in the grass. This is my world now, and I am it's. Possession is not important in a place like this. I may be alone but I am not lonely. I am peaceful in my solidarity. I am content. More so now than I have been in the past when with friends. A place like this makes you appreciate yourself as an individual in this busy world as much as a vital piece of the puzzle, for I am both. This is the kind of place I can come to and sit alone reading and indulging in life, or come with a friend and have a great discussion, or come with a group of friends and share wine and make memories.
I challenge you to find a place like this, I highly recommend it.
It's a place I share with hundreds of people yesterday, today, and tomorrow. A place with history and full of hope. I probably would not have come to appreciate this place if not for my roommate and friend, but now I call it mine. I find peace here, in simply sitting in the sun to do my homework, watching the world around me. It is not passing me by or leaving me behind. It is bustling and lively and vibrant and I am as much a part of it as the family passing by, or the tourists taking pictures, or the restaurant owners serving their customers or the children playing in the grass. This is my world now, and I am it's. Possession is not important in a place like this. I may be alone but I am not lonely. I am peaceful in my solidarity. I am content. More so now than I have been in the past when with friends. A place like this makes you appreciate yourself as an individual in this busy world as much as a vital piece of the puzzle, for I am both. This is the kind of place I can come to and sit alone reading and indulging in life, or come with a friend and have a great discussion, or come with a group of friends and share wine and make memories.
I challenge you to find a place like this, I highly recommend it.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Remembering 9/11
Imagine a young girl, only eight years old. Imagine seeing the world through her eyes. Full of promise, and possibilities, and dreams that could only come true. Imagine this little girl sitting home alone one morning, lying on her mother's bed watching cartoons. The phone rings. She answers to hear her mother's voice on the other end. "Turn on the news." the voice says. The innocent child complies.
Images of death and destruction, of devastation, of two planes flying into two towers and killing so many people flash before her eyes. And she sits silently watching. Now imagine all the thoughts going through her head. The sadness, the worry for her aunt and her cousin living in New York, and the sheer confusion at how human beings could do this to each other. This little girl didn't understand.
Imagine this same little girl ten years later, not quite grown up but more mature and more aware of the world around her. Living on her own for the first time, remembering that day lying on her mother's bed. That little girl is me, and I have grown so much in the ten short years since September 11th 2001. I have lived and learned and love my family and my friends. I have tried things and lost things and discovered things. And I sit here today thankful for the life I have lead this far, and thankful for the people in it. Most of all thankful that I did not lose anyone dear to me on that fateful day, but sympathetic for those who did. I understand now how the world can be such a brutal place, how death and destruction happen every day. How prejudice and racism are disgustingly apparent in day to day life, even now. Yet, I also understand that for each life lost that day there is an overwhelming amount of love. For each act of brutality there is one of kindness. For each tear shed there is a smile spread, and the world can be a beautiful place if you let it. The beauty and kindness may not be as well documented, or broadcasted on the media, but that does not mean it isn't there. I know where I was ten years ago today, I know exactly what I was doing and how I felt, and I'm sure everyone else in the world can say the same. But do we appreciate each day like we remember that one? Make the most of the life you are lucky enough to be living. Focus on the positive. Live for those who no longer do. Love enough for all. And share your happiness.
Images of death and destruction, of devastation, of two planes flying into two towers and killing so many people flash before her eyes. And she sits silently watching. Now imagine all the thoughts going through her head. The sadness, the worry for her aunt and her cousin living in New York, and the sheer confusion at how human beings could do this to each other. This little girl didn't understand.
Imagine this same little girl ten years later, not quite grown up but more mature and more aware of the world around her. Living on her own for the first time, remembering that day lying on her mother's bed. That little girl is me, and I have grown so much in the ten short years since September 11th 2001. I have lived and learned and love my family and my friends. I have tried things and lost things and discovered things. And I sit here today thankful for the life I have lead this far, and thankful for the people in it. Most of all thankful that I did not lose anyone dear to me on that fateful day, but sympathetic for those who did. I understand now how the world can be such a brutal place, how death and destruction happen every day. How prejudice and racism are disgustingly apparent in day to day life, even now. Yet, I also understand that for each life lost that day there is an overwhelming amount of love. For each act of brutality there is one of kindness. For each tear shed there is a smile spread, and the world can be a beautiful place if you let it. The beauty and kindness may not be as well documented, or broadcasted on the media, but that does not mean it isn't there. I know where I was ten years ago today, I know exactly what I was doing and how I felt, and I'm sure everyone else in the world can say the same. But do we appreciate each day like we remember that one? Make the most of the life you are lucky enough to be living. Focus on the positive. Live for those who no longer do. Love enough for all. And share your happiness.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Diary of a world traveller
I know, I know, I've been gone for like.. forever! Sorry about that. I like to think it's because I have a life away from the computer, but that's a lie.
Truthfully I have just been feeling uninspired for the past couple months. Don't get me wrong, I haven't been sitting in my room looking out the window thinking 'Where has all the beauty gone?' I have not bought a new wardrobe of only black clothes and I'm not only listening to music that 'speaks to my soul' and expresses my angst. So do not fear ;) I have actually been surrounding myself with some truly amazing people. Musicians, artists, and just all round inspiring young men and women. I revel in their talent and passion. Not to say I have none of my own, it just takes a different form. In some ways I am still searching for my talent and passion, and in some ways I am just trying to find a way to express it. Which brings me to my second point, in a long-winded, not really making the connection sort of way.
I've moved. I no longer live on a small island with limited possibility and routine activity. I've packed my bags and found myself all the way in beautiful, timeless, inspiring Florence, Italy. I am studying here for a year, trying to decide what to do with my life afterwards, trying to find an equilibrium between learning and enjoying the bustling world around me. I hope to come away from this year not as a different person, but as a better version of the person I already am.
Everywhere I look is inspiring. From hearing the passersby on the small street outside the window of the apartment I share with three strangers that have already become good friends, to walking past the ancient and infamous dome built by Brunelleschi so very long ago. Such beauty, and history, and culture is hard to ignore and even harder to take for granted.
Yesterday I got locked out of my apartment. I was hot, and tired, and hungry and carrying a heavy book bag. When my land lord told me that no one could come to my assistance for another four hours I had to remind myself to take advantage of the situation. It wasn't under the best circumstances, but I could make myself enjoy the afternoon. I bought a lasagna in a bistro around the corner and sat on a bench in front of the Santa Maria Novella Church to enjoy my lunch. Yes, it was hot, and yes I did wish I could have at least dropped off my heavy book bag before getting stuck outside. But it was a beautiful afternoon in a beautiful city. I then bought some cantaloupe melon in a café to escape the sun for a while and did my Italian homework. I walked to my school, walked through a market, and walked to the foot of the Duomo (Brunelleschi's dome, nonetheless.) Looking up at that magnificent, intricate, ancient piece of architecture I could not be frustrated or moody. I could not wish my door was fixed and I was in my cool air conditioned room, I could not wish for anything but to be exactly where I was at exactly that point in time. Yes, I was surrounded by tourists, and yes as soon as my door was fixed I was happy to lie in my bed for a couple hours, but in that moment, standing by myself in that snippet of history, I felt more fortunate and more inspired than I can even describe. Life is wonderful when you make it.
So I'm writing again, I'm trying to explore my talent and express my passion. It may not make you laugh, I may not post regularly, but I have made myself a promise to document my experience here. And you, my dears, are the lucky recipients of this documentation. I hope you enjoy this as much as I plan to.
Truthfully I have just been feeling uninspired for the past couple months. Don't get me wrong, I haven't been sitting in my room looking out the window thinking 'Where has all the beauty gone?' I have not bought a new wardrobe of only black clothes and I'm not only listening to music that 'speaks to my soul' and expresses my angst. So do not fear ;) I have actually been surrounding myself with some truly amazing people. Musicians, artists, and just all round inspiring young men and women. I revel in their talent and passion. Not to say I have none of my own, it just takes a different form. In some ways I am still searching for my talent and passion, and in some ways I am just trying to find a way to express it. Which brings me to my second point, in a long-winded, not really making the connection sort of way.
I've moved. I no longer live on a small island with limited possibility and routine activity. I've packed my bags and found myself all the way in beautiful, timeless, inspiring Florence, Italy. I am studying here for a year, trying to decide what to do with my life afterwards, trying to find an equilibrium between learning and enjoying the bustling world around me. I hope to come away from this year not as a different person, but as a better version of the person I already am.
Everywhere I look is inspiring. From hearing the passersby on the small street outside the window of the apartment I share with three strangers that have already become good friends, to walking past the ancient and infamous dome built by Brunelleschi so very long ago. Such beauty, and history, and culture is hard to ignore and even harder to take for granted.
Yesterday I got locked out of my apartment. I was hot, and tired, and hungry and carrying a heavy book bag. When my land lord told me that no one could come to my assistance for another four hours I had to remind myself to take advantage of the situation. It wasn't under the best circumstances, but I could make myself enjoy the afternoon. I bought a lasagna in a bistro around the corner and sat on a bench in front of the Santa Maria Novella Church to enjoy my lunch. Yes, it was hot, and yes I did wish I could have at least dropped off my heavy book bag before getting stuck outside. But it was a beautiful afternoon in a beautiful city. I then bought some cantaloupe melon in a café to escape the sun for a while and did my Italian homework. I walked to my school, walked through a market, and walked to the foot of the Duomo (Brunelleschi's dome, nonetheless.) Looking up at that magnificent, intricate, ancient piece of architecture I could not be frustrated or moody. I could not wish my door was fixed and I was in my cool air conditioned room, I could not wish for anything but to be exactly where I was at exactly that point in time. Yes, I was surrounded by tourists, and yes as soon as my door was fixed I was happy to lie in my bed for a couple hours, but in that moment, standing by myself in that snippet of history, I felt more fortunate and more inspired than I can even describe. Life is wonderful when you make it.
So I'm writing again, I'm trying to explore my talent and express my passion. It may not make you laugh, I may not post regularly, but I have made myself a promise to document my experience here. And you, my dears, are the lucky recipients of this documentation. I hope you enjoy this as much as I plan to.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)