So i have like 1 more trimester of this semester (haha, its funny that we refer to this hellishly fast academic dash as a semester) left before i'm done with the first 4th of my masters. I'm so tired and i really dig the material, but the pace is really intense.
I've been thinking about what I want to do. I guess I'm just as indecisive as ever, probably because things have been going really well in too many different directions. For all the complaining I do about how hard Middlebury is, it's been going really really well. better than I expected, academically, especially because even when I like a subject and usually do well in it, it's rare that I'm consistent with anything... maybe I'm jinxing myself and my next round of papers/exams wont go so well. that would be humbling. But i'm really enthusiastic about music these days. I think about it nonstop....but its been demonized in my mind somehow as this vice that distracts me from all the practical real-life things I should be paying attention too instead. Everyday I meet more people that I can't talk to about my non-sense musical ponderings, everyday I spend less time listening, contemplating, not to mention practicing, which has been on the back burner for well over a year at this point.
I did something really stupid in my contemplations this morning: i decided to read 2 essays I wrote at the end of my sophomore year, the exact midpoint of my college career, the critical prelude to spending a year abroad. One of the essays was on an italian director's use of operatic forms in his films, and the other was on the social/artistic intersections between brazilian capoiera and american jazz. It was really strange to read something I'd written in english from so long ago. i was sort of taken aback by my written voice, by how i verbalize intellectual thoughts, not even because they were well-worded (cuz sometimes they weren't) but more because I haven't done that in english in over year. (side note-senior year is going to be an academic shit show...) It was also even more confusing, because I really enjoyed working on both of those essays a lot, and it only made making a decision between the two even more confusing because clearly, right now, I'm in the middle of improving my italian, but even when I write an extensive research paper in Italian, I'm still referring to music, my passion, the thing i feel i know the best. Then in my music paper, I wasn't even really discussing music itself at all, I was talking about social structures within musical communities, talking about the cultural roots of artistic development, how african diasporic art forms become fetishized by mainstream (often white) communities. In the end, both papers were wildly multi-discipline...so what the fuck?
I think what I'm trying to say is this. I like learning and i like music and italian, but it doesn't stop there. I'm too eclectic academically, I need a master's program that lets me study everything and compare everything and talk about things that maybe don't appear to pertain to Italian studies directly...and thats why this program feels weird. I love Italy, i love italian, and i like reading and writing. But i get a mean case of writers block when something I'm writing seems irrelevant, when analyzing that unknown passage of Indian Nocturn for 4 pages seems like a meaningless exercise in grammar and fluency instead of stylistics, literary criticism, or expressing an idea worth reading about.
I guess a lot of things I do are really meaningless though.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Only in vermont
or more specifically, only in middlebury do chef-hat in-dosing dining hall staff expertly navigate narrow cement paths on john deere golf cart/mini-tractors. while walking the campus this afternoon, that was a view i had the pleasure of seeing. It happens rather often here. In fact, there are some hilarious personalities that ride hilarious forms of transportation all over the campus. For instance, there's this one guy that drives a segue. It's pretty epic and always provides a good opportunity for a much needed laugh in the entirely too busy lives middlebury grad students live for 6 weeks.
I have very little to complain about these days. i am entirely too busy, enough that i'm unable to find time to listen to music which hasn't happened to me in a very long time and is very unnerving. I've been laughing a lot, especially on the weekends, and that keeps me in good spirits. If it weren't for that, I'm pretty sure i'd be really unsettled by all this work and intellectualism around me, but the only choice i have is to muscle through it. It's just a little too much.
Weekends here are like nothing else. There is always something fun to do, usually to the point that I can't decide what I want to do. the social reality at midd is so unrealistic it's frustrating, because you meet so many incredible people that you live with night and day for 6 weeks and that you may or may not see again. I'm living with one of my best friends from last summer's program, and it's just weird to think that when i come back next summer, she won't be here.
In less than 3 weeks, i'm going back to california for the first time in over a year. That's the longest i've ever been away from "home," wherever that is, and I have really mixed feelings about going back. I can't wait to see friends, but I guess I sort of see it as a lily pad for my more final arrival in boston.
I've been thinking about when the soonest would be that I could go to italy again...i wish money generated itself while i slept or something....
I have very little to complain about these days. i am entirely too busy, enough that i'm unable to find time to listen to music which hasn't happened to me in a very long time and is very unnerving. I've been laughing a lot, especially on the weekends, and that keeps me in good spirits. If it weren't for that, I'm pretty sure i'd be really unsettled by all this work and intellectualism around me, but the only choice i have is to muscle through it. It's just a little too much.
Weekends here are like nothing else. There is always something fun to do, usually to the point that I can't decide what I want to do. the social reality at midd is so unrealistic it's frustrating, because you meet so many incredible people that you live with night and day for 6 weeks and that you may or may not see again. I'm living with one of my best friends from last summer's program, and it's just weird to think that when i come back next summer, she won't be here.
In less than 3 weeks, i'm going back to california for the first time in over a year. That's the longest i've ever been away from "home," wherever that is, and I have really mixed feelings about going back. I can't wait to see friends, but I guess I sort of see it as a lily pad for my more final arrival in boston.
I've been thinking about when the soonest would be that I could go to italy again...i wish money generated itself while i slept or something....
Monday, July 12, 2010
Porto
A month ago, i was on my way to portugal with Angela. One of the most amazing trips of my life. 3 plane flights, many cities, and lots of contacts all over the world later and I'm in Middlebury, Vermont doing things like watching the world cup in a random vermontese's living room with his hilarious family, and going to the nearby lake on days when class is cancelled 'snow-day' style because it's too hot to have class in the aircondiitoned classrooms. Whatever, that one i still haven't understood, but i'm never gonna question cancelled class.
Point is, its been a weird, long, slow transition. i'm still in the middle of it, i can feel it. When i think about how recently i was on another continent, i almost get a sense of veritgo. none of this can possibly be real. I can't possibly be studying organized crime with the leading mafia expert on the face of the earth, not to mention writing papers to be read by him, and answering his very daunting and complicated questions in another language in class. Too many things seem unreal, not even because they're positive or intimidating, but mostly because its too much too fast. i need a moment....
Point is, its been a weird, long, slow transition. i'm still in the middle of it, i can feel it. When i think about how recently i was on another continent, i almost get a sense of veritgo. none of this can possibly be real. I can't possibly be studying organized crime with the leading mafia expert on the face of the earth, not to mention writing papers to be read by him, and answering his very daunting and complicated questions in another language in class. Too many things seem unreal, not even because they're positive or intimidating, but mostly because its too much too fast. i need a moment....
Sunday, July 4, 2010
a year ago
at this same program, i was doing grammar exercises and writing short 1.5 page essays every week in the slow grueling effort to learn and speak italian. i was basically speaking english with my friends, but using italian words. I was having a lot, likely too much, fun on the weekends (and lets be honest, usually weeknights too). I was finding academic shortcuts and loopholes.
This summer, i'm taking 2 of the most thought provoking and globally relevant courses I've probably ever taken in my life in any language. The language of the texts I'm reading is so difficult, i can't even understand the definitions of most of these words in english. Heavy intellectual theoretical models about identity, intersection of culture, identity, language, and state, power structures, gender constructions in language, political corruption of the state and its cooperation with the mafia, societies that live under mafia control, the 'historic novel' and how fictional narratives based around important historic events become our own cultural memoirs of that time, extremely polarized literary academic disagreements over books like gattopardo, gomorra. instead of writing 1.5 pages, i'm writing 12 page final papers for 3 classes in 6 weeks, reading 18+ books (articles, chapters of other books) and watching on average 5 hours of film each week. No grammar. just sheer content and increased expectation of quality intellectual thought processes. fuck.
I dont know how much of that you understood. me either. Thats the sort of malgamush thats rattling around inside my head in not just one language, folks, but two. I've been here less than a week, and may or may not have already lost my mind. It could also be the fact that i'm hungover and in the library. who knows. add the deep sinking of feeling that is culture shock and you have a clear idea of how i'm feeling/doing right now. the culture shock feeling is not good....very very very bad in fact. makes you wonder why you do what you do, and why you didnt/couldn't stay, and what it would have been like. a bunch of useless what ifs, i guess.
I realized I never wrote a travel post about portugal. I'll try to put it up soon. I should take this pledge more seriously, but I'm in the mood to chat. (when am i not in the mood to chat...)
This summer, i'm taking 2 of the most thought provoking and globally relevant courses I've probably ever taken in my life in any language. The language of the texts I'm reading is so difficult, i can't even understand the definitions of most of these words in english. Heavy intellectual theoretical models about identity, intersection of culture, identity, language, and state, power structures, gender constructions in language, political corruption of the state and its cooperation with the mafia, societies that live under mafia control, the 'historic novel' and how fictional narratives based around important historic events become our own cultural memoirs of that time, extremely polarized literary academic disagreements over books like gattopardo, gomorra. instead of writing 1.5 pages, i'm writing 12 page final papers for 3 classes in 6 weeks, reading 18+ books (articles, chapters of other books) and watching on average 5 hours of film each week. No grammar. just sheer content and increased expectation of quality intellectual thought processes. fuck.
I dont know how much of that you understood. me either. Thats the sort of malgamush thats rattling around inside my head in not just one language, folks, but two. I've been here less than a week, and may or may not have already lost my mind. It could also be the fact that i'm hungover and in the library. who knows. add the deep sinking of feeling that is culture shock and you have a clear idea of how i'm feeling/doing right now. the culture shock feeling is not good....very very very bad in fact. makes you wonder why you do what you do, and why you didnt/couldn't stay, and what it would have been like. a bunch of useless what ifs, i guess.
I realized I never wrote a travel post about portugal. I'll try to put it up soon. I should take this pledge more seriously, but I'm in the mood to chat. (when am i not in the mood to chat...)
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
dude no fuckin way
An idea of how strange and full circle my life feels/is right now.
Alright, so yesterday afternoon at 5:30 i rolled up in a fat black van to my dorm at middlebury form last summer. the first person i see is Francie, one of my really good friends from last summer. She runs up to me, we bear hug, and I inform her that I am her roommate for the summer (10th person in 11 months that i've lived with). I start walking up the path to the dorm with my huge baggage, and i see julian, my other really good friend who came back for the summer (well he's here every summer-he's the directors son). We bear hug, he helps me carry my luggage up. Then we go to communal dinner, and i see all the interns, all the professors, all the amazing grad students. I felt super different for 2 reasons-1) it was the first time I was speaking italian with these people who singlehandedly helped me get to the proficiency I had before going to Italy, 2) I didn't have to struggle to talk to them. In just one night of conversation, i already feel so much more comfortable with the people and the atmosphere, its absurd. My professors from level 3 last summer were soo amazingly sweet, remembered where I'd been in italy, my last name (which is kind of strange for them, haha) I can't even begin to explain how much of an ego stroke it is to have some of the leading italian academics in the american university system tell you that its not possible you improved as much as you did in one year.
Then, at dinner, a professor, Marcello Danesi, saw me and hugged me, did the baci (cheek kisses) and said "you can't believe how happy I am to see you. We're doing a concert on wednesday (two days from that moment) and you're playing bongos." I start laughing (wtf i'd been on campus for like an hour) and he informed me we had a rehearsal after dinner. Then after dinner, I see the president/director of the italian school, the one with whom I had to meet so often for the credit issues last summer when I thought the wouldn't give me credit for leaving a week early, and he hugged me and said, swing by my office tomorrow and we'll talk about your classes. Then after dinner, I went to a gas station with a friend and bought my first alcohol legally in the US! (che emozione!!!!!) hahahahah i played beer pong, sat around outside, chatted in italian, and generally was happy. I'm already meeting all the new kids (just the undergrads are here right now-its crazy that I'm still an undergrad, but here, i feel like the noobs are adorable youngn's even though they're probably a year, 2 years max, younger than me. weird.
So then this morning, I go to the presidents office and asked him if I had to take this necessary 1st semseter grad student grammar class, and he said, well you speak really well, so no dont worry about it, because that class will always be there if you want to where as the electives (that are soo interesting omg there are too many i want to take fml) change each summer. SO the good news I got to sign up for this mafia cinema class (if i've talked to you about why i like italian so much, you'll know that socially, i'm really interested in the corruption there, and how it affects and structures the culture/society) so basically this class is like gold for determining whether or not this is a field I can actually see myself going into or whether its just a highly developed interest. So my class schedule is this:
9-10 pm Mafia through cinematic perspetcives
3-4 pm Italian Identity and Mediterranean Alterities (hard to explain what this is about...dont worry bout it)
4-5 pm Contemporary Novel from 1975 to present
I. am. psyched.
Beside all the middlebury news, excitement, and rekindling of old friendships, the rest of me feels so fuckin crazy. Regarding my transition back in the US 1 of 2 things is happening: either I'm in a state of purgatory/disbelief that i'm here and thus the culture shock hasn't really set in yet, or I'm taking the culture shock in stride so much though that being here doesn't really phase me.
I have no idea which it is. I know one thing though, that my heart feels like exploding from all the excitement and happiness I'm feeling, but it could just be the enormous mug of american coffee I drank this morning at breakfast. Who knows. that crap (american coffee) is def strong though--i'm too used to the goodness that is italian espresso.
I got to see two of my best friends from this past school year in New York this weekend. It was amazing to reminisce and catch up with two phenomenal american girls in their home turf.
The last thing that is really hard for me now is being sort of bilingual. This seems like a silly thing to say, but for my american friends/english speaking people, obviously when I catch up/keep in touch/update my blog, i write a lot. When i was in italy starting friendships with italians, I didn't have to WRITE to them, i just spoke. Obviously speaking is faster and more convenient than writing, but now that I'm not there, i have to WRITE to all these people. Seems like a weird complaint, I know, but it is a LOT of updating to do, especially when its such a crucial and interesting moment for me, because I just want to talk to everyone all the time, cuz I miss people, and I havent even remotely started to reflect on or process the year that I just lived. what a fuckin life.
Anyway, my last night in bologna was heartbreakingly awesome. a friend of my roommates boyfriend is a basketball coach, and when he saw my brother wearing a b-ball jersey, he asked if we wanted to all go play basketball. we'd been drinking at my house, having a chill get together for 2 hours, so we were all a little buzzed. I changed out of my dress, and we all went to play for 2.5 hours, frisbee, basketball, soccer. It was so fun, and i tried to contain myself and not think about the flight i'd be getting on in 10 hours, but i was bursting at the seems. I only cried when I said goodbye to my housemates... because we were all delusional it was 3 in the morning, and...they have just changed my life in ways they will never know. Otherwise, I did a formidable job of keeping myself together, staying calm, and keeping my head straight. At least I know (or have the intention that) I'm going back to Italy...hopefully soon.
Below is a link to the album of that last night. sigh....già sembra troppo tempo fa
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=235222&id=634486277&l=7788ee3a4d
I'm so happy to be home. For me, America now seems like the land of opportunity and big cars and big dreams that the european immigrants of the early 1900s thought it was. I can't wait to see everyone in california, and at school. I just wanted to dump one post in here, because who knows if i'll have time to write in this thing when classes start (thursday) but we'll see how much english i feel like is appropriate.
Alright, so yesterday afternoon at 5:30 i rolled up in a fat black van to my dorm at middlebury form last summer. the first person i see is Francie, one of my really good friends from last summer. She runs up to me, we bear hug, and I inform her that I am her roommate for the summer (10th person in 11 months that i've lived with). I start walking up the path to the dorm with my huge baggage, and i see julian, my other really good friend who came back for the summer (well he's here every summer-he's the directors son). We bear hug, he helps me carry my luggage up. Then we go to communal dinner, and i see all the interns, all the professors, all the amazing grad students. I felt super different for 2 reasons-1) it was the first time I was speaking italian with these people who singlehandedly helped me get to the proficiency I had before going to Italy, 2) I didn't have to struggle to talk to them. In just one night of conversation, i already feel so much more comfortable with the people and the atmosphere, its absurd. My professors from level 3 last summer were soo amazingly sweet, remembered where I'd been in italy, my last name (which is kind of strange for them, haha) I can't even begin to explain how much of an ego stroke it is to have some of the leading italian academics in the american university system tell you that its not possible you improved as much as you did in one year.
Then, at dinner, a professor, Marcello Danesi, saw me and hugged me, did the baci (cheek kisses) and said "you can't believe how happy I am to see you. We're doing a concert on wednesday (two days from that moment) and you're playing bongos." I start laughing (wtf i'd been on campus for like an hour) and he informed me we had a rehearsal after dinner. Then after dinner, I see the president/director of the italian school, the one with whom I had to meet so often for the credit issues last summer when I thought the wouldn't give me credit for leaving a week early, and he hugged me and said, swing by my office tomorrow and we'll talk about your classes. Then after dinner, I went to a gas station with a friend and bought my first alcohol legally in the US! (che emozione!!!!!) hahahahah i played beer pong, sat around outside, chatted in italian, and generally was happy. I'm already meeting all the new kids (just the undergrads are here right now-its crazy that I'm still an undergrad, but here, i feel like the noobs are adorable youngn's even though they're probably a year, 2 years max, younger than me. weird.
So then this morning, I go to the presidents office and asked him if I had to take this necessary 1st semseter grad student grammar class, and he said, well you speak really well, so no dont worry about it, because that class will always be there if you want to where as the electives (that are soo interesting omg there are too many i want to take fml) change each summer. SO the good news I got to sign up for this mafia cinema class (if i've talked to you about why i like italian so much, you'll know that socially, i'm really interested in the corruption there, and how it affects and structures the culture/society) so basically this class is like gold for determining whether or not this is a field I can actually see myself going into or whether its just a highly developed interest. So my class schedule is this:
9-10 pm Mafia through cinematic perspetcives
3-4 pm Italian Identity and Mediterranean Alterities (hard to explain what this is about...dont worry bout it)
4-5 pm Contemporary Novel from 1975 to present
I. am. psyched.
Beside all the middlebury news, excitement, and rekindling of old friendships, the rest of me feels so fuckin crazy. Regarding my transition back in the US 1 of 2 things is happening: either I'm in a state of purgatory/disbelief that i'm here and thus the culture shock hasn't really set in yet, or I'm taking the culture shock in stride so much though that being here doesn't really phase me.
I have no idea which it is. I know one thing though, that my heart feels like exploding from all the excitement and happiness I'm feeling, but it could just be the enormous mug of american coffee I drank this morning at breakfast. Who knows. that crap (american coffee) is def strong though--i'm too used to the goodness that is italian espresso.
I got to see two of my best friends from this past school year in New York this weekend. It was amazing to reminisce and catch up with two phenomenal american girls in their home turf.
The last thing that is really hard for me now is being sort of bilingual. This seems like a silly thing to say, but for my american friends/english speaking people, obviously when I catch up/keep in touch/update my blog, i write a lot. When i was in italy starting friendships with italians, I didn't have to WRITE to them, i just spoke. Obviously speaking is faster and more convenient than writing, but now that I'm not there, i have to WRITE to all these people. Seems like a weird complaint, I know, but it is a LOT of updating to do, especially when its such a crucial and interesting moment for me, because I just want to talk to everyone all the time, cuz I miss people, and I havent even remotely started to reflect on or process the year that I just lived. what a fuckin life.
Anyway, my last night in bologna was heartbreakingly awesome. a friend of my roommates boyfriend is a basketball coach, and when he saw my brother wearing a b-ball jersey, he asked if we wanted to all go play basketball. we'd been drinking at my house, having a chill get together for 2 hours, so we were all a little buzzed. I changed out of my dress, and we all went to play for 2.5 hours, frisbee, basketball, soccer. It was so fun, and i tried to contain myself and not think about the flight i'd be getting on in 10 hours, but i was bursting at the seems. I only cried when I said goodbye to my housemates... because we were all delusional it was 3 in the morning, and...they have just changed my life in ways they will never know. Otherwise, I did a formidable job of keeping myself together, staying calm, and keeping my head straight. At least I know (or have the intention that) I'm going back to Italy...hopefully soon.
Below is a link to the album of that last night. sigh....già sembra troppo tempo fa
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=235222&id=634486277&l=7788ee3a4d
I'm so happy to be home. For me, America now seems like the land of opportunity and big cars and big dreams that the european immigrants of the early 1900s thought it was. I can't wait to see everyone in california, and at school. I just wanted to dump one post in here, because who knows if i'll have time to write in this thing when classes start (thursday) but we'll see how much english i feel like is appropriate.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Window Seat-Erykah Badu
I know i said last post was the last one from italy for a while. Clearly, I couldn't hold out, especially since I'm in this antagonizing state of waiting for the end. This song is exactly where I'm at right now. Its fresh, in so many more ways than just its lyrics. "I don't wanna time travel no mo/I wanna be here/I'm thinking" I'm gonna keep my fingers crossed for some window seats (everyone's favorite, right?) on the flight back on saturday and here's to a safe touch down--peace out, italy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9hVp47f5YZg
So, presently i’m standing
Here right now
You’re so demanding
Tell me what u want from me
Concluding
Concentrating on my music , lover , and my babies
Makes me wanna ask the lady for a ticket outta town…
So can I get a window seat
Don’t want nobody next to me
I just want a ticket outta town
A look around
And a safe touch down
Window seat
Don’t want nobody next to me
I just want a chance to fly
A chance to cry
And a long bye bye..
But I need u to want me
Need you to miss me
I need your attention
I need you next me
I need someone to clap for me
I need your direction
Somebody say come back
Come back baby come back
I want u to need me
Come back come back baby come back
Come back come back baby come back
Come back come back baby come back
So, in my mind i’m tusslin’
Back and forth ‘tween here and hustlin’
I don’t wanna time travel no mo
I wanna be here
I’m thinking
On this porch i’m rockin’
Back and forth light lightning hopkins
If anybody speak to scotty
Tell him beam me up..
So can I get a window seat
Don’t want nobody next to me
I just want a ticket outta town
A look around
And a safe touch down
Window seat
Don’t want nobody next to me
I just want a chance to fly
A chance to cry
And a long bye bye..
But I need you to miss me
Need somebody come get me
Need your attention
Need your energy yes I do
Need someone to clap for me
Need your direction
Somebody say come back
Come back baby come back
I want u to need me
Come back come back baby come back
Come back come back baby come back
Come back come back baby come back
But can I get a window seat
Don’t want nobody next to me
I just want a ticket outta town
A look around
And a safe touch down…
I just need a chance to fly
A chance to cry
And a long
Bye bye..
"They play it safe, are quick to assassinate what they do not understand. They move in packs, ingesting more and more fear with every act of hate on one another. They feel most comfortable in groups, less guilt to swallow. They are us. This is what we have become. Afraid to respect the individual. A single person within her circumstance can move one to change, to love herself, to evolve."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9hVp47f5YZg
So, presently i’m standing
Here right now
You’re so demanding
Tell me what u want from me
Concluding
Concentrating on my music , lover , and my babies
Makes me wanna ask the lady for a ticket outta town…
So can I get a window seat
Don’t want nobody next to me
I just want a ticket outta town
A look around
And a safe touch down
Window seat
Don’t want nobody next to me
I just want a chance to fly
A chance to cry
And a long bye bye..
But I need u to want me
Need you to miss me
I need your attention
I need you next me
I need someone to clap for me
I need your direction
Somebody say come back
Come back baby come back
I want u to need me
Come back come back baby come back
Come back come back baby come back
Come back come back baby come back
So, in my mind i’m tusslin’
Back and forth ‘tween here and hustlin’
I don’t wanna time travel no mo
I wanna be here
I’m thinking
On this porch i’m rockin’
Back and forth light lightning hopkins
If anybody speak to scotty
Tell him beam me up..
So can I get a window seat
Don’t want nobody next to me
I just want a ticket outta town
A look around
And a safe touch down
Window seat
Don’t want nobody next to me
I just want a chance to fly
A chance to cry
And a long bye bye..
But I need you to miss me
Need somebody come get me
Need your attention
Need your energy yes I do
Need someone to clap for me
Need your direction
Somebody say come back
Come back baby come back
I want u to need me
Come back come back baby come back
Come back come back baby come back
Come back come back baby come back
But can I get a window seat
Don’t want nobody next to me
I just want a ticket outta town
A look around
And a safe touch down…
I just need a chance to fly
A chance to cry
And a long
Bye bye..
"They play it safe, are quick to assassinate what they do not understand. They move in packs, ingesting more and more fear with every act of hate on one another. They feel most comfortable in groups, less guilt to swallow. They are us. This is what we have become. Afraid to respect the individual. A single person within her circumstance can move one to change, to love herself, to evolve."
Sunday, June 6, 2010
The End/La Fine.
going home....
The end of my time here is arriving like imminent death. Sunday i leave for portugal for a week, and when I return the following weekend, I will only have 6 more days before going back to the US. Even though there are still 2 weeks before I leave, in the scope of a 10.5 month stay, that's little more than a deep breath.
Unfortunately, I'm one of the most nostalgic people I've ever met (does that make sense?) and given that my third year of college and first year of living abroad are quickly winding down, I've clearly had a lot to think about lately. The black-hole vortex-esque feeling I've had that 'someone's about to pull the rug out from underneath me and finally I'll find myself on american soil again' is really quite unsettling, mostly because I can hardly fathom or believe what has happened this past year, let alone accept the fact that it's really over and i'm really going back. It's absurd that here and now I find myself already in June 2010, about to embark on a new chapter of my academic life (how dramatic...) when just a year ago around May, i had severe pre-anxiety for middlebury, i was still in a year-long relationship, and was so incredibly far from an italian-speaker. Time. fucking. flies.
Member the post I wrote about pride (don't bother reading the whole thing if you haven't-its way too long,a total ramble) well, recently I've been thinking about how going abroad is really one of the more wonderfully selfish and prideful things that students can do. I mean, as much as I'd like to think that I've left an impression and mark on the few friends I've made in italy, I think the reality is that the majority of people go abroad to enrich their own existences, to see new things, to understand themselves in a new way by experiencing new contexts. And i don't even think that's a bad thing--anzi (rather) it's an incredible privilege that i think even gets taken for granted, or not taken advantage of enough.
In any case, from a purely egotistical, self-centered perspective, this year couldn't have been any more of a success. I hardly remember anything about how i felt before embarking upon this experience, except that i was nervous, anxious, unsure, anxious, and anxious. and nervous. Now, I'm as happy as a clam (btw, where the f does this saying come from?) in Italy, i couldn't really be any more comfortable. That's not to say that I blend in here, or that I'm completely culturally assimilated. In fact, I'm not, I actually feel like quite an outsider, but somewhere in the course of all the italian conversation this year, the fear and anxiety and nervousness of being misunderstood and not understanding and having dysfunctional communication and not being able to make friends melted away and because of it, I've sort of been able to take control of myself and my feelings with initiative and faith that I didn't really have before. That's not to say that I believe in myself and yay Italy made me a better person...but more to say that i've just changed a lot this year and i can feel it. I don't even know if I will seem normal (did i ever? haha) when I find myself smack dab in the middle of american college culture in the fall because I really have lost myself in the midst of this cultural whirlwind that is not just italy but all of the people i've met, stories i've heard, places i've gone.
The point is that this will be my last post from Italy for a long time. Normally, after a trip, I enjoy debriefing people in person, but given that the order of my life has been so weird since last summer, that's a luxury I don't have with most people in my life. (ironically, an example of this is i'm seeing new friends from this semesters study abroad group and last summer's middlebury program this coming summer all before seeing my family, california friends, and wellelsey friends again, most of whom i haven't seen since may and june of 2009) So, as a post-trip 'fill-you-in' kind of thing, I've made a huge list of the things that have characterized being in Italy the most for me personally. I figured this would be more concise.
-1 year w/o shower shoes
-forming walking routes/street patterns/bus habits
-walking on the same streets people have been walking on for thousands of years
-having a 'sisterhood of the traveling pants' style friendship with 3 incredibly different and amazing italian girls.
-learning to cook, learning to cook for one, and learning to live better
-learning to drink in public (piazzas, bars, and clubs)
-getting stir crazy when I didn't leave the country at least once a month
-impossibly slow internet that did not permit the use of any security sites (https:// ie banks, certain emails, any useful information for life)
-the wonders of italian espresso
-opposite of studying
-serious decline in eloquence in English
-serious decline in study endurance
-learning to relax and not feel simultaneously guilty
-extreme personal artistic isolation
-the Mediterranean and Adriatic Seas-blues you have never seen. pictures don't cut it.
-having to fight bureaucratic fights in another language, alone, not sure if i was making myself understood or even if i was understanding what was being said to me
-being asked "are you german" repeatedly because no one believed i could be american given the italian i spoke, and the resulting EGO STROKE that i experienced every time after
-talking to italians and responding to their questions about American culture and life when I couldn't even remember what it felt like to be there anymore.
-falling in love
-falling out of love (and writing music to cope)
-falling in lust
-wondering if another year in the same country will be amazing or boring.
-The too few and far between moments when the stars align and best friends from other continents found themselves in my kitchen and I didn't even want to start to believe they were really there because i knew that soon they'd be leaving anyway.
-becoming more attentive to fashion, and allowing my style to be revamped for the 4th or 5th time in a few years.
-Leisurely Reading, a lot, in 2 languages
-All the embarrassing mistakes and hilarious linguistic flubs that happen in the struggle for fluency in another language
-having a new experience at least once a week, seeing shit i'd never seen, meeting personalities I'd never encountered.
-Considering not following through with my plan to stay for a year
-Spending so. much. money.
-feeling, and likely being, so out of touch with everyone.
-Not having a therapist for the first time in 4 years
-living for the random postcards, phones calls, and pleasant surprises of unexpected people getting in touch that occasionally trickled in because signs of life from America made me miss the people and the culture so much more
-hours, and hours, and hours, and thus by extension days, weeks, and finally a year of meeting Italians, slowly constructing my idea of their nation and culture and all the while losing the idea of my own.
-Being challenged and scared by professors, feeling incapable, and surprising myself in the end.
-Never knowing how to respond when people asked me "But do you miss California? When are you going back? Why aren't you going home for the holidays?"
-Having my heart warmed by the familiarity of Bologna when coming back from a trip, and then realizing that for the first time in a long time, I felt at home.
-Listening to music while I showered (without fail. every single day, at least 2nd term. now i'm probably incapable of showering without something to dance too)
-PASTA
-always having a 'why not' mentality, and thus losing my DSLR camera, going to the north pole, dating someone for a decidedly short period of time, hosting a stranded american and doing a lot of other crap i NEVER would have done otherwise.
-coincidences. like woah.
-babysitting 3 bilingual italo-american boys.
-First time in college studying in a "practical" musical environment (meaning not theoretical, where the classes aren't hands on) even though it was one of the most impractical environments I'd ever been in.
-going to a university of 75,000 students and being in lecture halls twice the size of the house i lived in for most of my life.
-feeling like a year lasts a minute
-Dancing
-Learning to Photograph
-realizing slowly and clearly just how old this part of the world and its cultures are
-starting to seriously enjoy and contemplate art (specifically contemporary)
-complete and utter lack of new music to listen to, specifically american music that wasnt pop, since thats all that arrives in italy
-a rather dramatic hair cut in december
-seeing a country the size of california in all 4 seasons
-Trains and validating tickets
-Losing things
-Finding very interesting ways to explain concepts and nouns to italians to get them to help me figure out one single word that would change or complete my sentences.
-The unfiltered joy I would experience when italians learn or experience things about America that really blow their minds, like the fact that native americans exist, and even live near my hometown, or that there are sharks in the pacific ocean, or that the marshmallow sandwiches they show in the movies really do exist and are called smores and the look on their faces when they finally try them for the first time.
-Singing in/Hosting concerts
-The dull ache in my chest and my side that I slowly learned to realize was homesickness, and which would intensify as soon as I noticed it. (its like playing the 'game', how you have to say 'i lost the game' when you think about it)
-Changing many, many, many, many of my mannerisms (unintentionally--italians have a strong influence, and awesome body language)
-Owning earth's jenkiest and shittiest cell phone, and actually using it for a year
and last, but surely, surely, surely not least:
-Learning to recognize, love, and embrace my americanness, and starting a few amazing friendships with americans that I hope will traverse the atlantic without changing very much.
Thanks for following while I've been gone. I've missed you all dearly and can't wait to see everyone soon. Ciao
Ali
The end of my time here is arriving like imminent death. Sunday i leave for portugal for a week, and when I return the following weekend, I will only have 6 more days before going back to the US. Even though there are still 2 weeks before I leave, in the scope of a 10.5 month stay, that's little more than a deep breath.
Unfortunately, I'm one of the most nostalgic people I've ever met (does that make sense?) and given that my third year of college and first year of living abroad are quickly winding down, I've clearly had a lot to think about lately. The black-hole vortex-esque feeling I've had that 'someone's about to pull the rug out from underneath me and finally I'll find myself on american soil again' is really quite unsettling, mostly because I can hardly fathom or believe what has happened this past year, let alone accept the fact that it's really over and i'm really going back. It's absurd that here and now I find myself already in June 2010, about to embark on a new chapter of my academic life (how dramatic...) when just a year ago around May, i had severe pre-anxiety for middlebury, i was still in a year-long relationship, and was so incredibly far from an italian-speaker. Time. fucking. flies.
Member the post I wrote about pride (don't bother reading the whole thing if you haven't-its way too long,a total ramble) well, recently I've been thinking about how going abroad is really one of the more wonderfully selfish and prideful things that students can do. I mean, as much as I'd like to think that I've left an impression and mark on the few friends I've made in italy, I think the reality is that the majority of people go abroad to enrich their own existences, to see new things, to understand themselves in a new way by experiencing new contexts. And i don't even think that's a bad thing--anzi (rather) it's an incredible privilege that i think even gets taken for granted, or not taken advantage of enough.
In any case, from a purely egotistical, self-centered perspective, this year couldn't have been any more of a success. I hardly remember anything about how i felt before embarking upon this experience, except that i was nervous, anxious, unsure, anxious, and anxious. and nervous. Now, I'm as happy as a clam (btw, where the f does this saying come from?) in Italy, i couldn't really be any more comfortable. That's not to say that I blend in here, or that I'm completely culturally assimilated. In fact, I'm not, I actually feel like quite an outsider, but somewhere in the course of all the italian conversation this year, the fear and anxiety and nervousness of being misunderstood and not understanding and having dysfunctional communication and not being able to make friends melted away and because of it, I've sort of been able to take control of myself and my feelings with initiative and faith that I didn't really have before. That's not to say that I believe in myself and yay Italy made me a better person...but more to say that i've just changed a lot this year and i can feel it. I don't even know if I will seem normal (did i ever? haha) when I find myself smack dab in the middle of american college culture in the fall because I really have lost myself in the midst of this cultural whirlwind that is not just italy but all of the people i've met, stories i've heard, places i've gone.
The point is that this will be my last post from Italy for a long time. Normally, after a trip, I enjoy debriefing people in person, but given that the order of my life has been so weird since last summer, that's a luxury I don't have with most people in my life. (ironically, an example of this is i'm seeing new friends from this semesters study abroad group and last summer's middlebury program this coming summer all before seeing my family, california friends, and wellelsey friends again, most of whom i haven't seen since may and june of 2009) So, as a post-trip 'fill-you-in' kind of thing, I've made a huge list of the things that have characterized being in Italy the most for me personally. I figured this would be more concise.
-1 year w/o shower shoes
-forming walking routes/street patterns/bus habits
-walking on the same streets people have been walking on for thousands of years
-having a 'sisterhood of the traveling pants' style friendship with 3 incredibly different and amazing italian girls.
-learning to cook, learning to cook for one, and learning to live better
-learning to drink in public (piazzas, bars, and clubs)
-getting stir crazy when I didn't leave the country at least once a month
-impossibly slow internet that did not permit the use of any security sites (https:// ie banks, certain emails, any useful information for life)
-the wonders of italian espresso
-opposite of studying
-serious decline in eloquence in English
-serious decline in study endurance
-learning to relax and not feel simultaneously guilty
-extreme personal artistic isolation
-the Mediterranean and Adriatic Seas-blues you have never seen. pictures don't cut it.
-having to fight bureaucratic fights in another language, alone, not sure if i was making myself understood or even if i was understanding what was being said to me
-being asked "are you german" repeatedly because no one believed i could be american given the italian i spoke, and the resulting EGO STROKE that i experienced every time after
-talking to italians and responding to their questions about American culture and life when I couldn't even remember what it felt like to be there anymore.
-falling in love
-falling out of love (and writing music to cope)
-falling in lust
-wondering if another year in the same country will be amazing or boring.
-The too few and far between moments when the stars align and best friends from other continents found themselves in my kitchen and I didn't even want to start to believe they were really there because i knew that soon they'd be leaving anyway.
-becoming more attentive to fashion, and allowing my style to be revamped for the 4th or 5th time in a few years.
-Leisurely Reading, a lot, in 2 languages
-All the embarrassing mistakes and hilarious linguistic flubs that happen in the struggle for fluency in another language
-having a new experience at least once a week, seeing shit i'd never seen, meeting personalities I'd never encountered.
-Considering not following through with my plan to stay for a year
-Spending so. much. money.
-feeling, and likely being, so out of touch with everyone.
-Not having a therapist for the first time in 4 years
-living for the random postcards, phones calls, and pleasant surprises of unexpected people getting in touch that occasionally trickled in because signs of life from America made me miss the people and the culture so much more
-hours, and hours, and hours, and thus by extension days, weeks, and finally a year of meeting Italians, slowly constructing my idea of their nation and culture and all the while losing the idea of my own.
-Being challenged and scared by professors, feeling incapable, and surprising myself in the end.
-Never knowing how to respond when people asked me "But do you miss California? When are you going back? Why aren't you going home for the holidays?"
-Having my heart warmed by the familiarity of Bologna when coming back from a trip, and then realizing that for the first time in a long time, I felt at home.
-Listening to music while I showered (without fail. every single day, at least 2nd term. now i'm probably incapable of showering without something to dance too)
-PASTA
-always having a 'why not' mentality, and thus losing my DSLR camera, going to the north pole, dating someone for a decidedly short period of time, hosting a stranded american and doing a lot of other crap i NEVER would have done otherwise.
-coincidences. like woah.
-babysitting 3 bilingual italo-american boys.
-First time in college studying in a "practical" musical environment (meaning not theoretical, where the classes aren't hands on) even though it was one of the most impractical environments I'd ever been in.
-going to a university of 75,000 students and being in lecture halls twice the size of the house i lived in for most of my life.
-feeling like a year lasts a minute
-Dancing
-Learning to Photograph
-realizing slowly and clearly just how old this part of the world and its cultures are
-starting to seriously enjoy and contemplate art (specifically contemporary)
-complete and utter lack of new music to listen to, specifically american music that wasnt pop, since thats all that arrives in italy
-a rather dramatic hair cut in december
-seeing a country the size of california in all 4 seasons
-Trains and validating tickets
-Losing things
-Finding very interesting ways to explain concepts and nouns to italians to get them to help me figure out one single word that would change or complete my sentences.
-The unfiltered joy I would experience when italians learn or experience things about America that really blow their minds, like the fact that native americans exist, and even live near my hometown, or that there are sharks in the pacific ocean, or that the marshmallow sandwiches they show in the movies really do exist and are called smores and the look on their faces when they finally try them for the first time.
-Singing in/Hosting concerts
-The dull ache in my chest and my side that I slowly learned to realize was homesickness, and which would intensify as soon as I noticed it. (its like playing the 'game', how you have to say 'i lost the game' when you think about it)
-Changing many, many, many, many of my mannerisms (unintentionally--italians have a strong influence, and awesome body language)
-Owning earth's jenkiest and shittiest cell phone, and actually using it for a year
and last, but surely, surely, surely not least:
-Learning to recognize, love, and embrace my americanness, and starting a few amazing friendships with americans that I hope will traverse the atlantic without changing very much.
Thanks for following while I've been gone. I've missed you all dearly and can't wait to see everyone soon. Ciao
Ali
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Requirements
Expressive verbally
Genuine
Humorous
Creative in some capacity
Changing/Dynamic
Possessor of an active and ever-changing social conscious
(preferably but not necessary) Passionate about music
Capacity for seriousness
Patient
Reflective
Sure
Genuine
Humorous
Creative in some capacity
Changing/Dynamic
Possessor of an active and ever-changing social conscious
(preferably but not necessary) Passionate about music
Capacity for seriousness
Patient
Reflective
Sure
Monday, May 31, 2010
Things that come to mind when I think about the United States.
Pancakes, peanut butter, target, ethnic food, marshalls, cars/car rides, english, friends from wellesley, novato, middlebury, mit, and berklee, us money, music that I can readily understand, huge supermarkets with everything you could possibly want, california avocados, "hella", unlimited text messaging, finally being 21 in the states, multicultural-ness, dressing casually, SANDWICHES made right, bakeries, cupcakes, store bought box cakes, frosting, variety of fruit, heaters and airconditioners, frat parties, house parties, bbq, suburbs, american slang, hip hop, jazz, and r&b, american breakfast, TEA, american coffee, college life, soup, MEXICAN FOOD, kick ass shoes, american humor, informed people, good conversation that happens with informed people, solidarity, understanding, awareness, movies, water parks, theme parks, california beaches, alternative people things and places, extreme socio-economic class divisions, obsession with productivity, summer jobs, papers, finals, reading, activities, extra-curriculars, graduating, life after wellesley, keeping in touch, road trips, dorm food, fast food, obesity, bad habits, boston winters, california summers, real fruit juice, hiking, american style dorms, rambutan, inside jokes, things that are required of me like financial aid, taxes, official correspondences, requisite courses, studying, being a wendy wellesley etc...Arizona's immigration law, New Orleans oil disaster,the future of high school and middle school textbooks as publishing companies switch from California to Texas, relation of the € to the $, literature I can readily understand, people i can readily understand (one hopes-its been a long time), re-realizing my own americanness.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Barcelona
Just got back on wednesday night. I know it's saturday and I should probably be recovered by now, but I'm destroyed. I'm having trouble taking back up with quotidian life.
At any rate, Barcelona was off the hook. It's a very european city, not as much spanish, and there's a boatload of art. I was with my two italian housemates Miriam and Annalisa, and we stayed with Enza, my roommate from last semester who is doing erasmus in Spain. The trip reminded me a lot of london--a sort of fateful reunion of a group of very international girls in a large metropolitan european city for about a week. I'm lucky that I've gotten a chance to meet up with so many different kinds of people in so many different places.
Highlights of Barcelona included:
1) Casa Batllò of the genius architect Gaudì:
2) Park Guell also by Gaudì (these are my travel companions from left to right: Enza, Ali, Miriam, Annalisa)
3) La Pedrera, another house by Gaudì (this is just the rooftop, not to mention the inside of the house or the facade)
4) Fontana Magica and the Museum of Contemporary Art of Barcelona (where we saw an exhibit on photography from the early 1900's from paris, prague, and barcelona-awesssooommme!!!)
5) Tapas!
6) La Sagrada Famiglia also by Guadì
7)La Champignieria (an amazing restaurant with .80 cent cups of frizzy wine and bomb ass authentic sandwiches/burgers for 2.50€)
8) A day on the beach
There were endless laughs, great conversation, lots of metro rides, and tons of walking. My shoulders got burned one day, but I was sure to use sun tan lotion at the beach. I think I might have caught something there, because I've got this killer sore throat now, but its all gravy, cuz I don't have much to do these days, beside get ready for the states.
My next expedition is meeting my brother in portugal. A good friend angela, a serbian girl whose lived in Italy for most of her life, is coming with me to Portugal, where we're going to stay with Maria, my portuguese roommate from this semester. I miss having her around so much. She was such a light in the house, and even though I have a single now, I think I'd rather have her here.
Saw a lot of jazz in barcelona 2, on 2 different nights, 3 different groups. Also, randomly when we were walking back from a bar one night, we heard music coming out of the door of a little cantina, and one of my friends poked her head in to see what it was. There was a blond 45 year old spanish man playing piano, and enza shoved me in and told the people in spanish that I knew how to sing. The piano guy asks me to jam, and I'm like, no no no no no no ezna YOU sing (because she does, really well) and she wouldn't, and in the end I sang with this guy for like 5 to 10 minutes and miriam video recorded it. It was sort of fun and really nerve wracking and unexpected!!! Spain is crazy like that though, people are warm and barcelona's super alternative and the weather is amazing, everyone's in shorts.
I had a great time, in the end. TONS of laughing, these girls are so amazing... i dont know what i'm gonna do when i have to leave... :(
At any rate, Barcelona was off the hook. It's a very european city, not as much spanish, and there's a boatload of art. I was with my two italian housemates Miriam and Annalisa, and we stayed with Enza, my roommate from last semester who is doing erasmus in Spain. The trip reminded me a lot of london--a sort of fateful reunion of a group of very international girls in a large metropolitan european city for about a week. I'm lucky that I've gotten a chance to meet up with so many different kinds of people in so many different places.
Highlights of Barcelona included:
1) Casa Batllò of the genius architect Gaudì:
2) Park Guell also by Gaudì (these are my travel companions from left to right: Enza, Ali, Miriam, Annalisa)
3) La Pedrera, another house by Gaudì (this is just the rooftop, not to mention the inside of the house or the facade)
4) Fontana Magica and the Museum of Contemporary Art of Barcelona (where we saw an exhibit on photography from the early 1900's from paris, prague, and barcelona-awesssooommme!!!)
5) Tapas!
6) La Sagrada Famiglia also by Guadì
7)La Champignieria (an amazing restaurant with .80 cent cups of frizzy wine and bomb ass authentic sandwiches/burgers for 2.50€)
8) A day on the beach
There were endless laughs, great conversation, lots of metro rides, and tons of walking. My shoulders got burned one day, but I was sure to use sun tan lotion at the beach. I think I might have caught something there, because I've got this killer sore throat now, but its all gravy, cuz I don't have much to do these days, beside get ready for the states.
My next expedition is meeting my brother in portugal. A good friend angela, a serbian girl whose lived in Italy for most of her life, is coming with me to Portugal, where we're going to stay with Maria, my portuguese roommate from this semester. I miss having her around so much. She was such a light in the house, and even though I have a single now, I think I'd rather have her here.
Saw a lot of jazz in barcelona 2, on 2 different nights, 3 different groups. Also, randomly when we were walking back from a bar one night, we heard music coming out of the door of a little cantina, and one of my friends poked her head in to see what it was. There was a blond 45 year old spanish man playing piano, and enza shoved me in and told the people in spanish that I knew how to sing. The piano guy asks me to jam, and I'm like, no no no no no no ezna YOU sing (because she does, really well) and she wouldn't, and in the end I sang with this guy for like 5 to 10 minutes and miriam video recorded it. It was sort of fun and really nerve wracking and unexpected!!! Spain is crazy like that though, people are warm and barcelona's super alternative and the weather is amazing, everyone's in shorts.
I had a great time, in the end. TONS of laughing, these girls are so amazing... i dont know what i'm gonna do when i have to leave... :(
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Dangerous
I think pride is dangerous. On some level, I've never been able to completely let go of mine, because I guess as much as we'd like not to be, all humans are egotistical by nature. Normally I don't believe most of the compliments people give me, and I definitely have just stopped considering my 'ability' and 'talent' and 'capacities' in anything--style, music, conversation, intelligence, logic--because I'd drive myself crazy considering the competition and trying to figure out exactly what those things mean anyway. and yet, i'm rather self indulgent in expressing myself, in finding something therapeutic about venting my inner workings through words, music, my body. I don't know how directly that's related to pride, but I guess I wouldn't do it if I didn't think I had something worthwhile to say, or if I didn't want people to hear me. There's something inherently egotistical about art, about sharing either something highly personal or at least being a sensitive/sensible interpreter of things outside of oneself.
But pride can get in the way of the integrity of art, or thinking, or creating. The only reason I've been thinking about this is that whenever things go really well for me as a result of hard work, I'm very tentative to believe that it has anything to do with my capacities and that it has much more to do with people being kind to me or easy judges, or just trying to inflate my ego and be nice. Basically, I'm not quick to believe in much of a good thing, especially if its a grade, a compliment, or a 'deep' feeling related to me, because I don't think a big head would look very good on me.
In any case, I've been considering this entirely too much for a few reasons. I just took my only university exam from this semester which was philosophy (my last post was quotes from the readings I did) and it was one of the strangest and intriguing experiences I've ever had.
Here's a little background about the unversity exam system in Italy. All exams are oral--meaning they are conducted by either a professor or one of his or her assistants, in a large lecture hall (can be a small class room, but to give the impression of large impersonal public university with intimidating professors and students, i'm using large lecture hall, just like the one where I took this class) during one single exam session usually from 9am till 5 or 6 pm. For each class, there are usually 5 to 8 exam sessions a year, and you have to sign up online for which one you will present yourself at. Because students can frequent a course one semester and sign up to take the exam whenever they want, sometimes at an exam session years later, the appelli (exam sessions) can be really full. Also, i forgot to mention, there is no other work during the semester, which is to say, that the final oral exam is your entire grade. Want to talk about pressure?....sheesh.
When I went to this theoretical philosophy class, I'll admit that while my brain was more than thoroughly jogged by what the professor lectured about, I was really worried about comprehension issues. As if philosophy weren't hard enough to comprehend in a mother tongue, I was fighting against vocabulary issues like the difference between being and being as it pertains to location/physicality (essere=the verb to be esserci= the verb to be in a place or location specific even if its figurative... its difficult to explain but it is our equivalent of 'there are this many books' or 'there is a chance'. At any rate, you can only imagine that with my less than 2 years of italian under my belt, i had little faith in the fact that i was understanding things. Not to mention that all of the 4 books we had to read for the course were either translations from greek or german, and had all been translated ROUGHLY so as to maintain as much of the original grammar structure and 'idea' of the original text, even though for me, i thought it clearly rendered the idea less comprehensible when the grammar constructions were that of ancient greek (right-this makes sense?)
The course was from february to the 2nd week in march. It was very short because it was 3 times a week for 2 hours (also typical of italy-their system is SO different!) So from the time I got back from sicily to the 2nd week in may (2 months) my chief concern was 'how the fuck am i going to 1) understand this content and 2) pass this exam?' I'd never studied philosophy a day in my life before so I was worried, and also this course credit I really really needed for an epistemology and cognition credit at wellesley, because if i didn't pass, I would have yet another REQUIRED class to take during my senior year, and my schedule is already really packed.
So around late april I went to my study abroad program office with all these concerns about the comprehension, the needing to pass, the not knowing anything about philosophy, the extreme inadequacy of my language skills for the difficult of the course. 2 things happened--first, they scolded me for not having started studying earlier which would have allowed me to understand these issues earlier and then I might have had time to choose a different course. second, they told me to talk with my writing workshop professor (who i've already worked with for a year now--she's single-handedly responsible for any of the advanced italian that I can speak and write and read--because she graduated from University of Bologna in Philosophy back in the day, and she might be able to meet with me and tutor me a little bit. They also told me to contact the professor of the course and explain to him my situation and ask to meet with him during office hours. I arranged meetings with both, and never got to meet with the professor of the course because he wasn't there when I went to his office hours. In the meantime I read the texts for the course in both english and italian at the recommendation of my writing workshop teacher just for comprehension purposes, but god CHE PALLE (which means what a fuckin BORE) reading the same thing twice in 2 languages. I don't know if I'll ever be able to be a literature translator--only in real life (which i really enjoy doing, btw).
So from late april to early may I was basically pretending to study, often distracted, seriously debating all the half-hearted add diagnoses I've been given over the years. Could not concentrate, legit, and it was pathetic because it was the only thing I had to do. it's not like the conservatory is challenging, and my exams for that weren't going to be for another 2 months anyway. Basically, just a huge lack of motivation, and a huge amount of defeatedness in general because I didn't feel capable to take this exam as it was.
So exam day. I had emailed the professor the week before to ask him in what depth I shoudl try to know the texts because I was worried about comprehension and he said, "well even though the exam is friday (today) why don't you come to my office hours on wednesday and we'll do the exam then, and if you're unhappy with your grade, you can retake it on friday. Does that seem like a good philosophical method to you?" Already, I had the impression he was sort of a special professor, because going out of the way for a student like that in a university of 75,000 is incredibly rare, especially considering the horror stories I've heard about exams and how indifferent and just ball-breakers the professors can be/usually are. In any case, the day of I was feeling alright about it, in the sense that I thought I would pass but wasn't expecting or hoping for any grade higher than a D or C- since my grades from abroad on my Wellesley transcript will all appear as pass/fail anyway. I get to his office and had to wait for 25 minutes because there were other students waiting in line just to talk to him.
While i was outside waiting, I saw some young guys who looked like doctorate students freely entering and leaving his study while he was meeting with students. Sometimes one would go in and sit for 20 minutes, than come out with a stack of papers only to quickly go back in. I couldn't see inside the office, but it made me nervous to watch because all I could imagine was doing this exam with 4 or 5 philosophy doctorate students as well as one of the most highly regarded italian philosophy professors listening to my nonsense answers.
So i go in around 5:25 after racking my brain for 25 minutes for every last thing I could remember from all the readings I'd done. I sort of thought of it as like an intellectual performance, interrogation, like a thesis defense. I introduced myself as the american student who had written him several times and he very genuinely shook my hand and looked into my eyes before starting the exam. Right from the beginning, I could tell he was seeing me, sort of in a way that very few people ever look at you. Before I even started speaking, he seemed to already know so much about me. It was one of the most bizarre feelings ever. Before the exam started, he deduced that I wasn't a philosophy student, and I told him i studied music at the conservatory. He then asked me to start with which ever argument I thought was the most intriguing in the course. Having no idea how to respond, I just started from the beginning, talking about the 2 oldest greek philosophers we read. I reviewed their arguments and moved onto plato's myth of the cave, and explained that. Right as I was about to comment on its symbolism, he stopped me and asked "if you had to explain the myth of the cave to a highschool boy, what would you say?" i didn't really respond because i was a little dumbfounded. then he asked "what would you say to the boy if he said that he didn't see the necessity in understanding the world outside of the cave and was contented with the tangibile visible world around him (that of the darkness inside the cave). why should he want to know the truth(or the real world outside)?" I fumbled at first, and than started to explain that what he perceives as his concrete tangible world is really an illusion (the images projected on the wall) and that if he is not fascinated by the fact that an entire universe unknown to him exists so nearby (i guess u have to know this myth to get what the F i'm talking about) then he shall always be contented, enchained and stationery, transfixed by what he sees before him and not asking for anything else or anything more.
Right after this question, he asked me, "where does music from? how do composers write music?" If you know me at all, you can probably imagine how strange, interesting, and difficult this question was for me. I tried to respond, but could only say at the beginning "That's a really difficult question" and he said "well should it be easy? should any question be easy?" In the meantime, mind you, this 75 year old man with the most incredibly awake eyes I have ever seen is sort of tapping his fingers from the other side of his wide dark oak desk in his many-booked study and staring into my (for lack of a better word-forgive the clichè) soul. It was like he knew exactly what music is for me in a way that no one else has really ever understood or tried to understand. I hadn't told him that I write too, I mean at that point, he could have assumed if he wanted that I just studied music and played like the majority of classical students, not that actually writing it is my biggest thrill.
So i said "well I actually write myself, so..." and he said "i had already understood that, yes." I don't even know how I responded to this question. i said that a study of the language of music is necessary in order to have the tools necessary to form ideas into comprehensible sound, then I said that being creative probably helps, and he pushed further still, but where does creative come from and what exactly is it? Where do the notes come from? At this point, I quoted heraclitus who said that all of his research into the understanding of being he conducted in his own soul because it was 'without limits'. When I said that, this professors face lit up, and he sort of pushed me to keep talking about my process and how music and notes are an expression of our souls and that humans and their brains and all their faculties are just interpreters, messengers really, for an expression of the utmost beauty and being that we can sense only with our souls and not just with our intellect, eyes, mouth, nose, fingers and ears.
After I finished responding to that question, he sort of took over in talking about how everything around us is a result of this interpreter function that humans serve to the earth--architecture, philosophy, art, music, food, fashion, ideas.
By the time he was done talking, it was 5:45 and 20 minutes had flown. I had no idea how it had gone, I only knew that how I felt the entire time during the exam was so strange and new--i don't think I've ever had someone so clearly see me and sort of pull ideas and thoughts out of me like that. He was incredible professional and it didn't make me feel uncomfortable at all, it was just his way of navigating conversation, pinpointing the perfect point of entry to my mind. Hermeneutics, right?
I didn't know when the exam had finished because when he finished talking, he just intertwined his hands on his desk top and said "alright". After 2 minutes I said "so...how do we do for the grading?" he sort of snapped back into reality and quickly got up and bustled around to find a pen. I handed him my grade sheet, and he went to his computer to enter the grade into the unviersity system immediately. i still had no idea what he was going to give me, and I just waited for him to finish. The doctorate students who had been sitting on couches, staring at the floor, being silent and just listening to my exam started barely whispering to each other and after a minute the professor turned to me and said, "how's a 28?" the grading system is out of 30, so that's an A-. Of course I responded, that's great.
When I was about to go, I thanked him for the course because it had sort of turned me onto something I'd never studied before. He said that it pleased him to hear it, shook my hand again, this time for twice as long, and said, "very good, and congratulations for your music. good bye"
I left and I was ecstatic and confused and my heart was pounding cuz that exam style is the most nerve-wracking one that there is. I still don't know why he decided on such a high grade. I felt like I didn't deserve it, which started the whole thought about pride. I don't feel like I should be proud because I didn't really study as much as I should have, and I didn't know the books nearly well enough to merit a 28. But it was almost as if he was judging my character or my connection to my being, which was so strange and yet rewarding.
I'm sorry for writing so much about this, just academically its been one of the only and the most interesting experiences I've had here and I don't want to forget. jeez! what the heck, i still don't believe it.
In other news, with the end of that exam, I think my summer has technically started which is awesome because normally when exams finish I'm in the middle of packing 4 bags and trying to catch a flight to california instead of relaxing in an awesome apartment for another month before starting my masters in Italian (fuck. my. life) I feel like I'm on a warpath for something...but I don't even know what it is.
Anyhow, i hope the weather is better where all of you are than where I am-it's been raining chronically here for the last 2.5 weeks and I would like it to be warm while I'm in barcellona this weekend. SHWEEET!!!!!!!!!!! ENZA ARRIVIAMO!!!!!
ciao a tutti
But pride can get in the way of the integrity of art, or thinking, or creating. The only reason I've been thinking about this is that whenever things go really well for me as a result of hard work, I'm very tentative to believe that it has anything to do with my capacities and that it has much more to do with people being kind to me or easy judges, or just trying to inflate my ego and be nice. Basically, I'm not quick to believe in much of a good thing, especially if its a grade, a compliment, or a 'deep' feeling related to me, because I don't think a big head would look very good on me.
In any case, I've been considering this entirely too much for a few reasons. I just took my only university exam from this semester which was philosophy (my last post was quotes from the readings I did) and it was one of the strangest and intriguing experiences I've ever had.
Here's a little background about the unversity exam system in Italy. All exams are oral--meaning they are conducted by either a professor or one of his or her assistants, in a large lecture hall (can be a small class room, but to give the impression of large impersonal public university with intimidating professors and students, i'm using large lecture hall, just like the one where I took this class) during one single exam session usually from 9am till 5 or 6 pm. For each class, there are usually 5 to 8 exam sessions a year, and you have to sign up online for which one you will present yourself at. Because students can frequent a course one semester and sign up to take the exam whenever they want, sometimes at an exam session years later, the appelli (exam sessions) can be really full. Also, i forgot to mention, there is no other work during the semester, which is to say, that the final oral exam is your entire grade. Want to talk about pressure?....sheesh.
When I went to this theoretical philosophy class, I'll admit that while my brain was more than thoroughly jogged by what the professor lectured about, I was really worried about comprehension issues. As if philosophy weren't hard enough to comprehend in a mother tongue, I was fighting against vocabulary issues like the difference between being and being as it pertains to location/physicality (essere=the verb to be esserci= the verb to be in a place or location specific even if its figurative... its difficult to explain but it is our equivalent of 'there are this many books' or 'there is a chance'. At any rate, you can only imagine that with my less than 2 years of italian under my belt, i had little faith in the fact that i was understanding things. Not to mention that all of the 4 books we had to read for the course were either translations from greek or german, and had all been translated ROUGHLY so as to maintain as much of the original grammar structure and 'idea' of the original text, even though for me, i thought it clearly rendered the idea less comprehensible when the grammar constructions were that of ancient greek (right-this makes sense?)
The course was from february to the 2nd week in march. It was very short because it was 3 times a week for 2 hours (also typical of italy-their system is SO different!) So from the time I got back from sicily to the 2nd week in may (2 months) my chief concern was 'how the fuck am i going to 1) understand this content and 2) pass this exam?' I'd never studied philosophy a day in my life before so I was worried, and also this course credit I really really needed for an epistemology and cognition credit at wellesley, because if i didn't pass, I would have yet another REQUIRED class to take during my senior year, and my schedule is already really packed.
So around late april I went to my study abroad program office with all these concerns about the comprehension, the needing to pass, the not knowing anything about philosophy, the extreme inadequacy of my language skills for the difficult of the course. 2 things happened--first, they scolded me for not having started studying earlier which would have allowed me to understand these issues earlier and then I might have had time to choose a different course. second, they told me to talk with my writing workshop professor (who i've already worked with for a year now--she's single-handedly responsible for any of the advanced italian that I can speak and write and read--because she graduated from University of Bologna in Philosophy back in the day, and she might be able to meet with me and tutor me a little bit. They also told me to contact the professor of the course and explain to him my situation and ask to meet with him during office hours. I arranged meetings with both, and never got to meet with the professor of the course because he wasn't there when I went to his office hours. In the meantime I read the texts for the course in both english and italian at the recommendation of my writing workshop teacher just for comprehension purposes, but god CHE PALLE (which means what a fuckin BORE) reading the same thing twice in 2 languages. I don't know if I'll ever be able to be a literature translator--only in real life (which i really enjoy doing, btw).
So from late april to early may I was basically pretending to study, often distracted, seriously debating all the half-hearted add diagnoses I've been given over the years. Could not concentrate, legit, and it was pathetic because it was the only thing I had to do. it's not like the conservatory is challenging, and my exams for that weren't going to be for another 2 months anyway. Basically, just a huge lack of motivation, and a huge amount of defeatedness in general because I didn't feel capable to take this exam as it was.
So exam day. I had emailed the professor the week before to ask him in what depth I shoudl try to know the texts because I was worried about comprehension and he said, "well even though the exam is friday (today) why don't you come to my office hours on wednesday and we'll do the exam then, and if you're unhappy with your grade, you can retake it on friday. Does that seem like a good philosophical method to you?" Already, I had the impression he was sort of a special professor, because going out of the way for a student like that in a university of 75,000 is incredibly rare, especially considering the horror stories I've heard about exams and how indifferent and just ball-breakers the professors can be/usually are. In any case, the day of I was feeling alright about it, in the sense that I thought I would pass but wasn't expecting or hoping for any grade higher than a D or C- since my grades from abroad on my Wellesley transcript will all appear as pass/fail anyway. I get to his office and had to wait for 25 minutes because there were other students waiting in line just to talk to him.
While i was outside waiting, I saw some young guys who looked like doctorate students freely entering and leaving his study while he was meeting with students. Sometimes one would go in and sit for 20 minutes, than come out with a stack of papers only to quickly go back in. I couldn't see inside the office, but it made me nervous to watch because all I could imagine was doing this exam with 4 or 5 philosophy doctorate students as well as one of the most highly regarded italian philosophy professors listening to my nonsense answers.
So i go in around 5:25 after racking my brain for 25 minutes for every last thing I could remember from all the readings I'd done. I sort of thought of it as like an intellectual performance, interrogation, like a thesis defense. I introduced myself as the american student who had written him several times and he very genuinely shook my hand and looked into my eyes before starting the exam. Right from the beginning, I could tell he was seeing me, sort of in a way that very few people ever look at you. Before I even started speaking, he seemed to already know so much about me. It was one of the most bizarre feelings ever. Before the exam started, he deduced that I wasn't a philosophy student, and I told him i studied music at the conservatory. He then asked me to start with which ever argument I thought was the most intriguing in the course. Having no idea how to respond, I just started from the beginning, talking about the 2 oldest greek philosophers we read. I reviewed their arguments and moved onto plato's myth of the cave, and explained that. Right as I was about to comment on its symbolism, he stopped me and asked "if you had to explain the myth of the cave to a highschool boy, what would you say?" i didn't really respond because i was a little dumbfounded. then he asked "what would you say to the boy if he said that he didn't see the necessity in understanding the world outside of the cave and was contented with the tangibile visible world around him (that of the darkness inside the cave). why should he want to know the truth(or the real world outside)?" I fumbled at first, and than started to explain that what he perceives as his concrete tangible world is really an illusion (the images projected on the wall) and that if he is not fascinated by the fact that an entire universe unknown to him exists so nearby (i guess u have to know this myth to get what the F i'm talking about) then he shall always be contented, enchained and stationery, transfixed by what he sees before him and not asking for anything else or anything more.
Right after this question, he asked me, "where does music from? how do composers write music?" If you know me at all, you can probably imagine how strange, interesting, and difficult this question was for me. I tried to respond, but could only say at the beginning "That's a really difficult question" and he said "well should it be easy? should any question be easy?" In the meantime, mind you, this 75 year old man with the most incredibly awake eyes I have ever seen is sort of tapping his fingers from the other side of his wide dark oak desk in his many-booked study and staring into my (for lack of a better word-forgive the clichè) soul. It was like he knew exactly what music is for me in a way that no one else has really ever understood or tried to understand. I hadn't told him that I write too, I mean at that point, he could have assumed if he wanted that I just studied music and played like the majority of classical students, not that actually writing it is my biggest thrill.
So i said "well I actually write myself, so..." and he said "i had already understood that, yes." I don't even know how I responded to this question. i said that a study of the language of music is necessary in order to have the tools necessary to form ideas into comprehensible sound, then I said that being creative probably helps, and he pushed further still, but where does creative come from and what exactly is it? Where do the notes come from? At this point, I quoted heraclitus who said that all of his research into the understanding of being he conducted in his own soul because it was 'without limits'. When I said that, this professors face lit up, and he sort of pushed me to keep talking about my process and how music and notes are an expression of our souls and that humans and their brains and all their faculties are just interpreters, messengers really, for an expression of the utmost beauty and being that we can sense only with our souls and not just with our intellect, eyes, mouth, nose, fingers and ears.
After I finished responding to that question, he sort of took over in talking about how everything around us is a result of this interpreter function that humans serve to the earth--architecture, philosophy, art, music, food, fashion, ideas.
By the time he was done talking, it was 5:45 and 20 minutes had flown. I had no idea how it had gone, I only knew that how I felt the entire time during the exam was so strange and new--i don't think I've ever had someone so clearly see me and sort of pull ideas and thoughts out of me like that. He was incredible professional and it didn't make me feel uncomfortable at all, it was just his way of navigating conversation, pinpointing the perfect point of entry to my mind. Hermeneutics, right?
I didn't know when the exam had finished because when he finished talking, he just intertwined his hands on his desk top and said "alright". After 2 minutes I said "so...how do we do for the grading?" he sort of snapped back into reality and quickly got up and bustled around to find a pen. I handed him my grade sheet, and he went to his computer to enter the grade into the unviersity system immediately. i still had no idea what he was going to give me, and I just waited for him to finish. The doctorate students who had been sitting on couches, staring at the floor, being silent and just listening to my exam started barely whispering to each other and after a minute the professor turned to me and said, "how's a 28?" the grading system is out of 30, so that's an A-. Of course I responded, that's great.
When I was about to go, I thanked him for the course because it had sort of turned me onto something I'd never studied before. He said that it pleased him to hear it, shook my hand again, this time for twice as long, and said, "very good, and congratulations for your music. good bye"
I left and I was ecstatic and confused and my heart was pounding cuz that exam style is the most nerve-wracking one that there is. I still don't know why he decided on such a high grade. I felt like I didn't deserve it, which started the whole thought about pride. I don't feel like I should be proud because I didn't really study as much as I should have, and I didn't know the books nearly well enough to merit a 28. But it was almost as if he was judging my character or my connection to my being, which was so strange and yet rewarding.
I'm sorry for writing so much about this, just academically its been one of the only and the most interesting experiences I've had here and I don't want to forget. jeez! what the heck, i still don't believe it.
In other news, with the end of that exam, I think my summer has technically started which is awesome because normally when exams finish I'm in the middle of packing 4 bags and trying to catch a flight to california instead of relaxing in an awesome apartment for another month before starting my masters in Italian (fuck. my. life) I feel like I'm on a warpath for something...but I don't even know what it is.
Anyhow, i hope the weather is better where all of you are than where I am-it's been raining chronically here for the last 2.5 weeks and I would like it to be warm while I'm in barcellona this weekend. SHWEEET!!!!!!!!!!! ENZA ARRIVIAMO!!!!!
ciao a tutti
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Theoretical Philosophy. 5pm. Today.
What you are is reachable and understandable only by removing everything that fills you.
A noble man is he who has removed all unnecessary things.
Each one of us is a prism. Light hits us and a ton of colors come out that open and tell the story of what it is that it hits. We are all white inside.
Our names aren't the things that express us, that say what our very essence is. Our names don't express our particular destinies.
In what ways is animal different than man? Is it the banal reason of instincts? Consider, however, that animals follow their instincts incredibly functionally. But in animals there are never irrational breaks with their environment, their past. In man, instead, there are radical breaks because man looks for the understanding of things--for the truth.
No one has ever leapt out over themselves from and at the place where they presently stand. And what happens when we do not learn to understand this, everyone knows.
Will there ever be the perfect form to express what you want to say?
Liberation does not come only from being freed from your chains, but when one authentically takes advantage of such liberty to look at and considers the state of things around him(her) after being liberated of the chains.
Like a change in direction, a step back, a zoom out.
Beauty is turned to a silhouette. If our eyes in darkness perceive a different size, different length of shadow, our world would appear in a different way, but we all search the precision of "what is being-what is it" the essence itself of things around us.
Thinking is Existing. Non-thinking is Non-existence.
The true nature of things loves to hide itself. -Heraclitus
All consciousness is intentional, thus all experience is grounded in care.
Dasein=care, meaning the condition of the possibility for anything like 'philosophical anthropology.'
Philosophy can not be separated from it's language, questions of meaning, questions of its own history.
The majority of people think only of satiating themselves like beats.
Our world that is the same for everyone, was not created by any of the gods or men, but it has always been, is, and will be an eternal burning fire that with regularity ignites and dies. The universe is a unity of alternating phases of destruction and production.
It is impossible for the masses to philosophically reflect. - Plato
Human love sets itself up not as an ambition to the unlimited pleasures of the senses, but involves the totality of ones being.-Plato
A noble man is he who has removed all unnecessary things.
Each one of us is a prism. Light hits us and a ton of colors come out that open and tell the story of what it is that it hits. We are all white inside.
Our names aren't the things that express us, that say what our very essence is. Our names don't express our particular destinies.
In what ways is animal different than man? Is it the banal reason of instincts? Consider, however, that animals follow their instincts incredibly functionally. But in animals there are never irrational breaks with their environment, their past. In man, instead, there are radical breaks because man looks for the understanding of things--for the truth.
No one has ever leapt out over themselves from and at the place where they presently stand. And what happens when we do not learn to understand this, everyone knows.
Will there ever be the perfect form to express what you want to say?
Liberation does not come only from being freed from your chains, but when one authentically takes advantage of such liberty to look at and considers the state of things around him(her) after being liberated of the chains.
Like a change in direction, a step back, a zoom out.
Beauty is turned to a silhouette. If our eyes in darkness perceive a different size, different length of shadow, our world would appear in a different way, but we all search the precision of "what is being-what is it" the essence itself of things around us.
Thinking is Existing. Non-thinking is Non-existence.
The true nature of things loves to hide itself. -Heraclitus
All consciousness is intentional, thus all experience is grounded in care.
Dasein=care, meaning the condition of the possibility for anything like 'philosophical anthropology.'
Philosophy can not be separated from it's language, questions of meaning, questions of its own history.
The majority of people think only of satiating themselves like beats.
Our world that is the same for everyone, was not created by any of the gods or men, but it has always been, is, and will be an eternal burning fire that with regularity ignites and dies. The universe is a unity of alternating phases of destruction and production.
It is impossible for the masses to philosophically reflect. - Plato
Human love sets itself up not as an ambition to the unlimited pleasures of the senses, but involves the totality of ones being.-Plato
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Penultimateness
I'm stuck in a permanent state of "just before the end" feelings and thoughts. It's so daunting and terrible, but its also so wonderful. I'm starting to get more homesick the closer I get to being back in the states. so weird... i guess i should just call it excitement for going back?
So I think I'm starting to understand myself better. I think i really like writing more than I want to admit I do for fear of having yet another love in my life that I'll never have enough time to give to. For the research project that I'm doing in the month of June, I'll be transcribing interviews and taking notes at concerts and at the conservatory. Today, I spent the morning pouring over notes and notes and notes I've taken over the course of this year from concerts, just different sort of rambling thoughts, scraps of paper, straggling word documents. I started finally assembling it into one larger organization of ideas and didn't break concentration for quite a while...which is usually when I know i like something. if i can sit down and work on the same thing for a few hours, its only because I'm in love with it. same goes for people that i hang out with.
I have a friend who wants to read these things I'm collecting so I'm being extra conscious to make sense not just to myself but also for an audience, which sometimes when I write i don't really feel the need to do since I don't have any intent to share. But I reread what I wrote and...i duno. It's strangely rewarding more so than anything else I've written in a long time, maybe because for once I'm able to unite an academic activity like research/writing a paper with something i love like jazz. Although, ideologically, i'm not even sure how i feel about that either--music is to be played, not written about.
Here's one of my favorite kinds of pasta to make these days. My housemate annalisa made it and it smelled like heaven and now I make it all the time and she makes fun of me because to her its as simple as a bowl of cereal (it is easy to make).
It's sauteed onions, red bell peppers and tomatoes with olive oil over orrechiette. really, as i said, nothing difficult, but just soooo damn good. I'm smiling in the picture cuz annalisa is busy making fun of me on the other side of my computer haha.
I leave for barcellona with miriam and annalisa on saturday next weekend. I'm soo excited because I can't believe I'm even getting the chance to travel with them, and because I miss enza, my x roommate who lives there right now, soo much its absurd. On wednesday I have my philosophy exam, and I'm really nervous but have been corresponding with the professor and I don't think he's going to fail me. Even if I don't know what I'm talking about at all.. i think he'll at least give me a C and since grades don't transfer onto our transcripts at wellesley from abroad, i'm golden.
The conservatory on the other hand is really a mess. They told me last week that I wouldn't be able to take my exmas because I have to go back to the US june 26 and the exams start there july 12th. Unfortunately, I cant move my flight back because i have to be on middlebury's campus by june 29th to start the summer term. I absolutely can't miss over 14 days of Midd because it only lasts 6 weeks as it is. That's about a 3rd of the semester. So i was sort of freaking out abotu it last week, quietly/calmly, but still worried. If i go back to the states without those credits.... i dont know. It can't happen. I need them. I'm afraid wellesley will either make me pay them back for having spent a term abroad with out doing anything, or that I wont be able to graduate on time.
Otherwise, everything else here has been so lovely lately. I'm feeling so comfortable at home and in bologna, and i guess generally happy. i found out that the oldest man to have ever lived lived in San Rafael (right near my hometown) and died in 1998! that was such a strange thing to have stumbled upon online. hahahaha I wikipedia'd san rafael for some reason and BAM-guiness world record holder was mentioned in the notable residents section.
After I go to barcellona, I'm in bologna for 2 days before heading to Hamburg for a concert - ROBERT GLASPER YEEEEAAAAA!!! I'm excited because hamburg looks awesome as a city, not to mention that I'm doing it all only for a concert. After hamburg, I have 10 days in bologna before portugal, johnny meets me there, we come back to italy for 8 days and then the US!?!??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!??!?!?!??!??!??!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!??!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!
jesus. fucking. christ. I've been abroad for a long time.
<3 ali
So I think I'm starting to understand myself better. I think i really like writing more than I want to admit I do for fear of having yet another love in my life that I'll never have enough time to give to. For the research project that I'm doing in the month of June, I'll be transcribing interviews and taking notes at concerts and at the conservatory. Today, I spent the morning pouring over notes and notes and notes I've taken over the course of this year from concerts, just different sort of rambling thoughts, scraps of paper, straggling word documents. I started finally assembling it into one larger organization of ideas and didn't break concentration for quite a while...which is usually when I know i like something. if i can sit down and work on the same thing for a few hours, its only because I'm in love with it. same goes for people that i hang out with.
I have a friend who wants to read these things I'm collecting so I'm being extra conscious to make sense not just to myself but also for an audience, which sometimes when I write i don't really feel the need to do since I don't have any intent to share. But I reread what I wrote and...i duno. It's strangely rewarding more so than anything else I've written in a long time, maybe because for once I'm able to unite an academic activity like research/writing a paper with something i love like jazz. Although, ideologically, i'm not even sure how i feel about that either--music is to be played, not written about.
Here's one of my favorite kinds of pasta to make these days. My housemate annalisa made it and it smelled like heaven and now I make it all the time and she makes fun of me because to her its as simple as a bowl of cereal (it is easy to make).
It's sauteed onions, red bell peppers and tomatoes with olive oil over orrechiette. really, as i said, nothing difficult, but just soooo damn good. I'm smiling in the picture cuz annalisa is busy making fun of me on the other side of my computer haha.
I leave for barcellona with miriam and annalisa on saturday next weekend. I'm soo excited because I can't believe I'm even getting the chance to travel with them, and because I miss enza, my x roommate who lives there right now, soo much its absurd. On wednesday I have my philosophy exam, and I'm really nervous but have been corresponding with the professor and I don't think he's going to fail me. Even if I don't know what I'm talking about at all.. i think he'll at least give me a C and since grades don't transfer onto our transcripts at wellesley from abroad, i'm golden.
The conservatory on the other hand is really a mess. They told me last week that I wouldn't be able to take my exmas because I have to go back to the US june 26 and the exams start there july 12th. Unfortunately, I cant move my flight back because i have to be on middlebury's campus by june 29th to start the summer term. I absolutely can't miss over 14 days of Midd because it only lasts 6 weeks as it is. That's about a 3rd of the semester. So i was sort of freaking out abotu it last week, quietly/calmly, but still worried. If i go back to the states without those credits.... i dont know. It can't happen. I need them. I'm afraid wellesley will either make me pay them back for having spent a term abroad with out doing anything, or that I wont be able to graduate on time.
Otherwise, everything else here has been so lovely lately. I'm feeling so comfortable at home and in bologna, and i guess generally happy. i found out that the oldest man to have ever lived lived in San Rafael (right near my hometown) and died in 1998! that was such a strange thing to have stumbled upon online. hahahaha I wikipedia'd san rafael for some reason and BAM-guiness world record holder was mentioned in the notable residents section.
After I go to barcellona, I'm in bologna for 2 days before heading to Hamburg for a concert - ROBERT GLASPER YEEEEAAAAA!!! I'm excited because hamburg looks awesome as a city, not to mention that I'm doing it all only for a concert. After hamburg, I have 10 days in bologna before portugal, johnny meets me there, we come back to italy for 8 days and then the US!?!??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!??!?!?!??!??!??!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!??!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!
jesus. fucking. christ. I've been abroad for a long time.
<3 ali
Monday, May 10, 2010
An entire lifetime has passed
since my last post. which is weird since it's been like 6 days. in those 6 days i think i've slept less than a total of 16 hours. Since Last wednesday, I've been pretty socially active and academically dysfunctional, but you know, it's worth it, especially since my last 7 weeks in Italy are clicking down like a time bomb.
What a whirlwind of events! It's probably not worth trying to recount every detail and thing I did because, in 128 hours of being awake in only a 6 day period, there's a lot of space for a lot of action. However, some really great pictures from 2 different nights out on the town, one trip to florence, and a big group dinner with great friends and awesome conversation are the evidence I have from this insanely busy period I've just had.
The best, most random, and AWESOMEly weird thing that happened during all of this was during a train ride I was taking last night. I went to Vicenza to see Josh Redman and Brad Mehldau in concert, which, might i add, was fucking awesome, and on the late 10:56 train ride back, I couldn't really find a good isolated seat (i hate sitting next to people and will search many cars for a seat by itself. on this train I coudl tell that wasnt gonna happen though) So i sit halfway through one of the cars in an aisle seat. Right before the stop I have to get off at to change trains, the ticket controller came by to check tickets. Mine went with no probelms. then this young looking guy in the seats across the aisle from me goes "do you speak any english?" to the controller, and so i take my cue and i'm like 'i do, i can help you out' So i hear from this kid that his wallet had been stolen from him in nice france and he had a flight from venice the next morning, so he needed to get there but he didnt have any money and he was sorry he didnt have a ticket but he didn't have another choice. So the controller tells me thats fine if he has a 'denuncia' from the police, which he didnt, so the ticket guy said, sorry but you have to get off the train at the next stop then. So thankfully, I was getting off there too, so I talk to this kid and I'm like, where are you from, whats the deal, what were you going to do in venice tonight, because keep in mind, it was already 11:30 pm, and he's like "well actually my wallet was stolen on tuesday (6 days before!!!) and my flight to venice is on friday (5 days later!!!!) so i traveled down from nice all day today on trains without tickets" The ironic thing was is that Padova, the stop we got off at, is one stop before Venice. He was almost there. But 5 nights in venice without money or a place to stay! I was like WTF, i can't knowingly allow this fellow europe-roaming american do that. So I offered to host him at my place on the floor in my room (had a sleeping bag-he was def prepared) and give him some food in the meantime before he figured out the money situation. So we get back to my apartment at like... 2:30 am. neither of us had eaten all day (i was just too busy) so we made pasta, talked, and made a game plan for the next day.
In the meantime, I have to add, this was the last thing to happen in a string of REALLY CRAZY coincidences, awesome moments, and trips that I had done in 5 days. And it was entirely too strange and too much to have this awesome 26 year old colorado-an guy just pop up out of nowhere and be like... i'm temporarily homeless??? the next day he was able to get some money out of his bank account without the card, and then he came to my house for the final dinner of my beloved roommate Maria who is portuguese and moving back to portugal. We made awesome cous-cous, drank wine, smoked cigarettes. It's a very bohemian existence that I'm living here. There's always music, art, laughter, and smoke in the air wherever I am in italy. Not even necessarily in my house, but just everywhere I go.
So, my spirits have been lifted a little. I guess as anyone could tell from the last few posts, I'd been entirely too pensive, reading too much heavy philosophy crap, and spending a lot of time on the internet. I guess with the abundance of socializing, I just...feel like i'm moving forward here, linguistically, making friends, making plans, even though I'm about to leave. it really really really will be the most bitter-sweet thing ever. The only thing comparable I think would be when I left california for wellesley the first time, or when I left wellesley for Italy for a year.
I'm doing really well though. So well I can't really explain. Which is a feeling I never want to embrace too muchbecause i'm afraid it means i'm soon to fall of the other end into something less...Have any of you ever read outliers? Its a book by malcolm gladwell best seller new york times....(whatever the heck that means) that talks about our conceptions of success. So interesting. I'm almost done with it. I read it this weekend on a train. ha!
I MISS EVERYONE AND I WISH I COULD CARRY ALL MY FAVORITE PEOPLE IN THE WORLD IN MY POCKET. love and thanks for reading
ali
What a whirlwind of events! It's probably not worth trying to recount every detail and thing I did because, in 128 hours of being awake in only a 6 day period, there's a lot of space for a lot of action. However, some really great pictures from 2 different nights out on the town, one trip to florence, and a big group dinner with great friends and awesome conversation are the evidence I have from this insanely busy period I've just had.
The best, most random, and AWESOMEly weird thing that happened during all of this was during a train ride I was taking last night. I went to Vicenza to see Josh Redman and Brad Mehldau in concert, which, might i add, was fucking awesome, and on the late 10:56 train ride back, I couldn't really find a good isolated seat (i hate sitting next to people and will search many cars for a seat by itself. on this train I coudl tell that wasnt gonna happen though) So i sit halfway through one of the cars in an aisle seat. Right before the stop I have to get off at to change trains, the ticket controller came by to check tickets. Mine went with no probelms. then this young looking guy in the seats across the aisle from me goes "do you speak any english?" to the controller, and so i take my cue and i'm like 'i do, i can help you out' So i hear from this kid that his wallet had been stolen from him in nice france and he had a flight from venice the next morning, so he needed to get there but he didnt have any money and he was sorry he didnt have a ticket but he didn't have another choice. So the controller tells me thats fine if he has a 'denuncia' from the police, which he didnt, so the ticket guy said, sorry but you have to get off the train at the next stop then. So thankfully, I was getting off there too, so I talk to this kid and I'm like, where are you from, whats the deal, what were you going to do in venice tonight, because keep in mind, it was already 11:30 pm, and he's like "well actually my wallet was stolen on tuesday (6 days before!!!) and my flight to venice is on friday (5 days later!!!!) so i traveled down from nice all day today on trains without tickets" The ironic thing was is that Padova, the stop we got off at, is one stop before Venice. He was almost there. But 5 nights in venice without money or a place to stay! I was like WTF, i can't knowingly allow this fellow europe-roaming american do that. So I offered to host him at my place on the floor in my room (had a sleeping bag-he was def prepared) and give him some food in the meantime before he figured out the money situation. So we get back to my apartment at like... 2:30 am. neither of us had eaten all day (i was just too busy) so we made pasta, talked, and made a game plan for the next day.
In the meantime, I have to add, this was the last thing to happen in a string of REALLY CRAZY coincidences, awesome moments, and trips that I had done in 5 days. And it was entirely too strange and too much to have this awesome 26 year old colorado-an guy just pop up out of nowhere and be like... i'm temporarily homeless??? the next day he was able to get some money out of his bank account without the card, and then he came to my house for the final dinner of my beloved roommate Maria who is portuguese and moving back to portugal. We made awesome cous-cous, drank wine, smoked cigarettes. It's a very bohemian existence that I'm living here. There's always music, art, laughter, and smoke in the air wherever I am in italy. Not even necessarily in my house, but just everywhere I go.
So, my spirits have been lifted a little. I guess as anyone could tell from the last few posts, I'd been entirely too pensive, reading too much heavy philosophy crap, and spending a lot of time on the internet. I guess with the abundance of socializing, I just...feel like i'm moving forward here, linguistically, making friends, making plans, even though I'm about to leave. it really really really will be the most bitter-sweet thing ever. The only thing comparable I think would be when I left california for wellesley the first time, or when I left wellesley for Italy for a year.
I'm doing really well though. So well I can't really explain. Which is a feeling I never want to embrace too muchbecause i'm afraid it means i'm soon to fall of the other end into something less...Have any of you ever read outliers? Its a book by malcolm gladwell best seller new york times....(whatever the heck that means) that talks about our conceptions of success. So interesting. I'm almost done with it. I read it this weekend on a train. ha!
I MISS EVERYONE AND I WISH I COULD CARRY ALL MY FAVORITE PEOPLE IN THE WORLD IN MY POCKET. love and thanks for reading
ali
Sunday, May 2, 2010
55 days and counting...
Today it's raining, for the first time in a long time. one of those perfect spring rains where every thing's already green and bloomed, and so the rain sounds and looks better because its hitting leaves and flowers instead of winter barren trees and already soaked ground.
It's sunday, so everyone's lazy and beat from the labor day celebrations that took place all over italy yesterday (huge concerts in rome, bologna, milan, parades, barbecues, drunkeness, general confusion and chaos and tons of people out and about--see photos below of my activities for the day) and me and my roommates all have tons of studying to do, but its one of those days that calls for a mug of tea, a good book, and chill conversation. Especially since the last week has been so crazy (at least for me)
the awesome clearing where the barbecue happened
the crowd that ensued around 1pm after a 10:30 am arrival time
the awesome entertainment including many traditional italian songs that i love
the incredible company with which i went to the festivities
my only contribution to the roastery caught on camera-cooking bell peppers, probably my favorite vegetable on earth.
Life in italy for me is rapidly changing. The imminence of the end of my stay here is really daunting, and I'm terrified for it personally, only because my prime method of dealing with this sort of things, that is to say, talking a confidantes ear off about it incessantly, hasn't been an option for a few months now, and now i'm feeling scattered enough to sort of just surrender to the realization that this move is going to suck/probably be one of the hardest ones of my life because i've found myself so well and comfortably here, and yet the magnetism the United States has for me is unimaginably stronger than I ever thought it could be considering I've really disagreed with so much about how the country works and how I find some of the people, but in that respect, I'm not sure Italy's really any better.
I've had a burst of creative energy, this past week, which was also great, because I bought a ZOOM recording device (THANK YOU WELLESLEY) and have been able to get much better quality recordings of my ideas than I ever was able to before. Poetry and music sort of nonstop flowing, but it sucks, because I feel like my technical faculties for both things are so out of order that everything isnt coming out as clearly as it should....life long mission. sigh.
This past Tuesday, i went to this fabulous restaurant with my 3 roommates and 2 of their boyfriends, and had one of the most incredible (and cheapest!) dinners I've had in italy. Huge peices of warm romangola bread with jam, soft spreadable cheeses, mortadella, prosciutto, salame piccante and normale beer and scone type things. Here's the dinner:
Otherwise, my main missions in the organizational/academic part of my life now are to find out when the HECK my conservatory exams will be and to study for my theoretical philosophy exam. I'm really starting to feel the pressure of having taken to many mental health days this semester (so much so that my academic health has probably greatly suffered) and I'm lacking (as always) the motivation to tackle the huge mountain of work that seems to be ahead of me. I can't really wait to go to barcellona and see johnny (my brother) in portugal in june, and in the meantime, I just have to take care of all this other practical stuff that I really don't feel like dealing with.
I hate writing blog posts that seem like downers. I'm not sure if this is one of them. In general, I've been having fun and going out and actually doing lots of new things, but I feel very very very very very, can't really express how much, strange lately and I would really like for something normal and stabilizing to randomly cross my way since the last 3 months have been filled with changes, random visits from friends, and unexpected surprises (cough volcano cough). I'm ready to be still for a bit.
I found this passage in some old archival research through the masses of documents on my computer today, and I really like it.
We die to each other daily.
What we know of other people
Is only our memory of the moments
During which we knew them. And they have changed since then.
To pretend that they and we are the same
Is a useful and convenient social convention
Which must sometimes broken. We must also remember
That at every meeting we are meeting a stranger.
T.S. Eliot
I enjoy this idea a lot, specifically because i identify with it so much. I'm not one who deals well with change, even though I bring a lot of it upon myself because to me, it's the only way people can grow. And this sort perfectly captures how weird it is to be away from some one or some place for any period of time. either you see the place in a new light as if it had change, or you actually experience it differently because it really has changed. Like, even times when I would go to san francisco for a day during high school, I would come back to novato and sort of think about it differently, as if my perspective of my home town had been changed by being in a metropolitan setting. and sometimes that meant only 12 hours of being away from the place, not to mention the months I would be on the east coast, or in the current case, the years in Europe. Sometimes I wonder how much change is an illusion, especially when I'm flying. At the beginning of a day I could be in Italy, and some hours later I could be on the east coast. Its an incredibly strange sensation, especially since each location on either side of a trip, in the meantime, will always be a fluidly changing entity, meaning the next time I see it, it could be completely different. not to mention how this all applies to humans.. Consistency, maybe is the real illusion...i suppose.
signing off with love for everyone who takes the time read these meaningless rambles,
ali
It's sunday, so everyone's lazy and beat from the labor day celebrations that took place all over italy yesterday (huge concerts in rome, bologna, milan, parades, barbecues, drunkeness, general confusion and chaos and tons of people out and about--see photos below of my activities for the day) and me and my roommates all have tons of studying to do, but its one of those days that calls for a mug of tea, a good book, and chill conversation. Especially since the last week has been so crazy (at least for me)
the awesome clearing where the barbecue happened
the crowd that ensued around 1pm after a 10:30 am arrival time
the awesome entertainment including many traditional italian songs that i love
the incredible company with which i went to the festivities
my only contribution to the roastery caught on camera-cooking bell peppers, probably my favorite vegetable on earth.
Life in italy for me is rapidly changing. The imminence of the end of my stay here is really daunting, and I'm terrified for it personally, only because my prime method of dealing with this sort of things, that is to say, talking a confidantes ear off about it incessantly, hasn't been an option for a few months now, and now i'm feeling scattered enough to sort of just surrender to the realization that this move is going to suck/probably be one of the hardest ones of my life because i've found myself so well and comfortably here, and yet the magnetism the United States has for me is unimaginably stronger than I ever thought it could be considering I've really disagreed with so much about how the country works and how I find some of the people, but in that respect, I'm not sure Italy's really any better.
I've had a burst of creative energy, this past week, which was also great, because I bought a ZOOM recording device (THANK YOU WELLESLEY) and have been able to get much better quality recordings of my ideas than I ever was able to before. Poetry and music sort of nonstop flowing, but it sucks, because I feel like my technical faculties for both things are so out of order that everything isnt coming out as clearly as it should....life long mission. sigh.
This past Tuesday, i went to this fabulous restaurant with my 3 roommates and 2 of their boyfriends, and had one of the most incredible (and cheapest!) dinners I've had in italy. Huge peices of warm romangola bread with jam, soft spreadable cheeses, mortadella, prosciutto, salame piccante and normale beer and scone type things. Here's the dinner:
Otherwise, my main missions in the organizational/academic part of my life now are to find out when the HECK my conservatory exams will be and to study for my theoretical philosophy exam. I'm really starting to feel the pressure of having taken to many mental health days this semester (so much so that my academic health has probably greatly suffered) and I'm lacking (as always) the motivation to tackle the huge mountain of work that seems to be ahead of me. I can't really wait to go to barcellona and see johnny (my brother) in portugal in june, and in the meantime, I just have to take care of all this other practical stuff that I really don't feel like dealing with.
I hate writing blog posts that seem like downers. I'm not sure if this is one of them. In general, I've been having fun and going out and actually doing lots of new things, but I feel very very very very very, can't really express how much, strange lately and I would really like for something normal and stabilizing to randomly cross my way since the last 3 months have been filled with changes, random visits from friends, and unexpected surprises (cough volcano cough). I'm ready to be still for a bit.
I found this passage in some old archival research through the masses of documents on my computer today, and I really like it.
We die to each other daily.
What we know of other people
Is only our memory of the moments
During which we knew them. And they have changed since then.
To pretend that they and we are the same
Is a useful and convenient social convention
Which must sometimes broken. We must also remember
That at every meeting we are meeting a stranger.
T.S. Eliot
I enjoy this idea a lot, specifically because i identify with it so much. I'm not one who deals well with change, even though I bring a lot of it upon myself because to me, it's the only way people can grow. And this sort perfectly captures how weird it is to be away from some one or some place for any period of time. either you see the place in a new light as if it had change, or you actually experience it differently because it really has changed. Like, even times when I would go to san francisco for a day during high school, I would come back to novato and sort of think about it differently, as if my perspective of my home town had been changed by being in a metropolitan setting. and sometimes that meant only 12 hours of being away from the place, not to mention the months I would be on the east coast, or in the current case, the years in Europe. Sometimes I wonder how much change is an illusion, especially when I'm flying. At the beginning of a day I could be in Italy, and some hours later I could be on the east coast. Its an incredibly strange sensation, especially since each location on either side of a trip, in the meantime, will always be a fluidly changing entity, meaning the next time I see it, it could be completely different. not to mention how this all applies to humans.. Consistency, maybe is the real illusion...i suppose.
signing off with love for everyone who takes the time read these meaningless rambles,
ali
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
So mel and I didn't make it out of italy before the volcanic ash destroyed everyone's travel plans, so there was no budapest or vienna in the cards for me. Melissa finally made it out on a train 5 days after her scheduled departure and Katie got a flight out of bologna airport this afternoon. Instead of waiting in bologna for the travel mess to cool off (more like the volcano) we skipped town to Perugia for a bit, where I'd stayed in a farmhouse hostel with joey over new years.
Not only was april 15th to 21st quite a complicated travel period, but I also managed to screw up/find out a lot of screwy things. I didn't get the Beinecke, that huge graduate fellowship I applied for, which is fine in the end I think, cause i guess in a lot of ways i don't have to worry about having to get a PhD in Italian, so awesome. I can just do this master's and see what's up after that. I'm in a bit of a pinch academically and really need to get to studying, but for some reason my attention span is just destroyed. I cant do anything longer than 15 minutes without getting restless. I'm actually starting to really start worrying about leaving Italy and going into really intense academic environments--I can only imagine how the kids from last term must have adjusted.
Anyway, so no Vienna, no Budapest. Next thing on the agenda is an exam in may, and Barcelona may 22nd.
Not only was april 15th to 21st quite a complicated travel period, but I also managed to screw up/find out a lot of screwy things. I didn't get the Beinecke, that huge graduate fellowship I applied for, which is fine in the end I think, cause i guess in a lot of ways i don't have to worry about having to get a PhD in Italian, so awesome. I can just do this master's and see what's up after that. I'm in a bit of a pinch academically and really need to get to studying, but for some reason my attention span is just destroyed. I cant do anything longer than 15 minutes without getting restless. I'm actually starting to really start worrying about leaving Italy and going into really intense academic environments--I can only imagine how the kids from last term must have adjusted.
Anyway, so no Vienna, no Budapest. Next thing on the agenda is an exam in may, and Barcelona may 22nd.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
cocktails
I have a new ambition in life. I want to own a club. I don't think I'd be a good DJ, because I wouldn't play music other people like, but I just want to be able to play my favorite dance music REALLY loudly and dance.
Anyway, Yesterday was awesome. My housemates and i had an aperitivo at our house, which is like a cocktail party with LOTS of appetizers. It was to celebrate my and my housemates birthdays, since they were close together, and I hadn't really done anything for it because my birthday fell on a holiday in Italy and my i was fuggitively sneaking my friends into my dorm so it wasn't like we could go out and do anything to exciting. So, at 8:30 it was supposed to start, because that's the normal aperitivo time, and at like 9:30, its just me, my 3 housemates and one of their boyfriends. I'd bought like hella €'s worth of food and alcohol so i was like, fuck. FAIL. literally thought no one was gonna come. By 10 though, it was a like someone opened the faucet, people started pouring in. So that was fun, cuz 2 of my really good italian friends made a cake (one of them is coming with me to portugal!) and there was a good vibe. Then near the end, my 3 housemates took me into one of the bedrooms and gave me this AWESOME gift. They got me an awesome leather 2010 agenda for me to write my thoughts and poetry in (i'm such a hippy/wannabe poet?) and inside they wrote a jim morrison quote in english and that was just SO thoughtful, and THEN!!!!!! they gave me a music box that plays HAPPY BIRTHDAY which, if you know me at all, you know its one of my favorite songs in the world. I lost my shit about the music box.
I guess I just wanted to write about the party cuz it was so exciting for me I guess. I sort of love when a bunch of italians and americans get together, cuz its just really fun to watch and try to communicate and dance. Also, earlier this week, my advisor Claire, the director of the program, took me out to dinner for my birthday. It was really sweet and I ate super well and I didn't expect it at all! So this week was like birthday redux. it was cool.
Anyway, Yesterday was awesome. My housemates and i had an aperitivo at our house, which is like a cocktail party with LOTS of appetizers. It was to celebrate my and my housemates birthdays, since they were close together, and I hadn't really done anything for it because my birthday fell on a holiday in Italy and my i was fuggitively sneaking my friends into my dorm so it wasn't like we could go out and do anything to exciting. So, at 8:30 it was supposed to start, because that's the normal aperitivo time, and at like 9:30, its just me, my 3 housemates and one of their boyfriends. I'd bought like hella €'s worth of food and alcohol so i was like, fuck. FAIL. literally thought no one was gonna come. By 10 though, it was a like someone opened the faucet, people started pouring in. So that was fun, cuz 2 of my really good italian friends made a cake (one of them is coming with me to portugal!) and there was a good vibe. Then near the end, my 3 housemates took me into one of the bedrooms and gave me this AWESOME gift. They got me an awesome leather 2010 agenda for me to write my thoughts and poetry in (i'm such a hippy/wannabe poet?) and inside they wrote a jim morrison quote in english and that was just SO thoughtful, and THEN!!!!!! they gave me a music box that plays HAPPY BIRTHDAY which, if you know me at all, you know its one of my favorite songs in the world. I lost my shit about the music box.
I guess I just wanted to write about the party cuz it was so exciting for me I guess. I sort of love when a bunch of italians and americans get together, cuz its just really fun to watch and try to communicate and dance. Also, earlier this week, my advisor Claire, the director of the program, took me out to dinner for my birthday. It was really sweet and I ate super well and I didn't expect it at all! So this week was like birthday redux. it was cool.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Masks, Churches, Friends, Spring leee leee laa la la
First things first! Look at this crazy awesome mask I got in Venice. I'm a dork, I've been to this crazy mask-makers shop 3 times in my life now, and this is the first time I finally bought something I liked. They're a little costly, but I'm happy I got it because it's perfect for a masquerade I'll be going to sometime this summer.
This masks makes me feel like a ferry or forest-dwelling fantastic animal, and basically makes me want to dork out watching lotr. love the color. yeeee
So! What have i been up to? Since my birthday and easter, I've just been visiting, visiting, visiting with friends. Melissa and Katie came first, we passed easter together, and like 2 good catholics, mel and katie asked if we could go to service.(for subscribers to both our blogs-sorry for the overlap-she's got the pictures too!) Even though it was in italian, we went to a mass in a crazy echo-y church, and then went on a nice long walk of bologna including some other fancy churches, and the big public gardens. Next day, the epic 21st, we went to ravenna to see the ancient mosaics, eat piadina, and drink my first legal beer (in the US-seen in prior post below.) Katie and Melissa went down to Perugia and Rome, and in the meantime, Tess, another good friend from Wellesley, came to visit and we went to the huge open air market where I bought an unbelievable summer dress, a super long summer skirt, a white zip up hoody with quirky designs. Then we went to san luca, the awesome hike with unbeatable views outside of the city, and the next day she left early. Same day, melissa and katie come BACK to bologna, and show them the same things I showed tess and her friend grady-the market, and san luca. Then the following day, we went to venice, because I had promised melissa ages ago I would go with her, and it turned out to be the most beautiful day I've seen in italy in a long time. The glistening water, typical venetian beauty basically, which was pretty cool after having been there twice during very late fall and middle of winter. We went to one of my favorite museums, Peggy Guggenheims old house, and I bought more postcards. Then i bought the mask-woops?
It's been a crazy couple of weeks and I'm getting ready to head out for 'eastern europe?' YAY! can't wait. my travel bug is kicking back in.
This masks makes me feel like a ferry or forest-dwelling fantastic animal, and basically makes me want to dork out watching lotr. love the color. yeeee
So! What have i been up to? Since my birthday and easter, I've just been visiting, visiting, visiting with friends. Melissa and Katie came first, we passed easter together, and like 2 good catholics, mel and katie asked if we could go to service.(for subscribers to both our blogs-sorry for the overlap-she's got the pictures too!) Even though it was in italian, we went to a mass in a crazy echo-y church, and then went on a nice long walk of bologna including some other fancy churches, and the big public gardens. Next day, the epic 21st, we went to ravenna to see the ancient mosaics, eat piadina, and drink my first legal beer (in the US-seen in prior post below.) Katie and Melissa went down to Perugia and Rome, and in the meantime, Tess, another good friend from Wellesley, came to visit and we went to the huge open air market where I bought an unbelievable summer dress, a super long summer skirt, a white zip up hoody with quirky designs. Then we went to san luca, the awesome hike with unbeatable views outside of the city, and the next day she left early. Same day, melissa and katie come BACK to bologna, and show them the same things I showed tess and her friend grady-the market, and san luca. Then the following day, we went to venice, because I had promised melissa ages ago I would go with her, and it turned out to be the most beautiful day I've seen in italy in a long time. The glistening water, typical venetian beauty basically, which was pretty cool after having been there twice during very late fall and middle of winter. We went to one of my favorite museums, Peggy Guggenheims old house, and I bought more postcards. Then i bought the mask-woops?
It's been a crazy couple of weeks and I'm getting ready to head out for 'eastern europe?' YAY! can't wait. my travel bug is kicking back in.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
"Artists ought to be writing/ about what they do/ and/ what kinds of procedures they go through to realize a work/ what their presuppositions in making a work are/ and related things. If artists' intentions and ideas/ were more accessible to the general public/ I think it might break down/ some of the barriers of misunderstanding between the art world/ and artists/ and the general public/ I think it would become clear the extent to which artists are just as much a product of their society as anyone else as in any other kinds of occasion/"
-Adrian Piper
I read an article today about international water crises. It's funny to me that this article was one of the last un-bolded, smaller font, articles in the 'world' section of the NY times website. I wonder what we're going to do when the water crises hits the middle class. Right now, 700 million people are already under sever 'water stress' even if its not a crisis yet. Ethiopia, Haiti and Niger are experiencing real crises. It just makes me wonder about the functions that water parks, hot tubs and pools, and irresponsible domestic water use serve in our society.
i've been really getting into food and what i eat (for health's sake) and informing myself about nutrition and stuff like that. I've recently drastically changed my diet and have started a weekly workout routine with my roommate maria. I'm trying not to set the initial stakes too high, but i hope it works out for the better. We need to change the way we do so many things, and if I can't change myself... well then i'm not going to be effective in any other ways.
-Adrian Piper
I read an article today about international water crises. It's funny to me that this article was one of the last un-bolded, smaller font, articles in the 'world' section of the NY times website. I wonder what we're going to do when the water crises hits the middle class. Right now, 700 million people are already under sever 'water stress' even if its not a crisis yet. Ethiopia, Haiti and Niger are experiencing real crises. It just makes me wonder about the functions that water parks, hot tubs and pools, and irresponsible domestic water use serve in our society.
i've been really getting into food and what i eat (for health's sake) and informing myself about nutrition and stuff like that. I've recently drastically changed my diet and have started a weekly workout routine with my roommate maria. I'm trying not to set the initial stakes too high, but i hope it works out for the better. We need to change the way we do so many things, and if I can't change myself... well then i'm not going to be effective in any other ways.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Berlin stole my heart....and my camera
So i shouldnt blog before I even see a city as a general rule of thumb, but i just had the most ridiculous night of aimless walking. I havent even seen berlin yet and i´m exhausted. not to mention this german keyboard is on acid. all of the characters are in different places and they dont have /'s and many other characters.
So anyway, the first night I got to berlin was quite a mess (like the rest of the trip, in retrospect). I got in at the airport around 8:30, stumbled around to find the train that took me into the city center. Took one train but where I needed to change trains, I didn't get off, so I accidentally rode the train back to the airport. Then when I got off at the right stop 30 minutes later, I couldn't find for the life of me where the train was that actually went into berlin, because everythign was under construction and there were no lights or signs, but hella people were moving around so I just stood still in the same spot trying to figure out wtf was going on. When I finally find the train I'm looking for, which is on a COMPLETELY different track and basically in another building, I ride it 2 stops before everyone gets off, even though it was supposed to end on the complete other side of town (where i needed to go). Turns out there was huge construction on a large part of the line, so the train stopped there. All the signs pointed to a bus line replacement for the lack of trains, but by this point, it'd alreayd been an hour or so, and I decided to call the hostel to get help. Poor lady heard from me like 6 times before I even got to the hostel. So i find a tram service instead of bus or subway, had to change trams at one point, and finally get to the neighborhood where I'm supposed to go. Only problem was that my map of berlin was a way too far zoomed out google maps version of berlin, so street names didn't help me at all. I basically ended up navigating the city like a maze, interpreting the shapes of the corners and angle to tell me where I was on the map. It took 1.5 hours of walking around the neighborhood where my hostel was before i RANDOMLY heard some english, stopped the people and asked if they knew where this one street was. As soon as I opened my mouth, one of the girls asked me if I was from california. didn't realize my accent was so identifiable? I always thought californians hd non-regional accents? anyway so I get pointed in the right diretion and FINALLY find the hostel.
Hostel was awesome. had free internet, great company, and a nice location. I was staying in the alternative students/artists quarter of berlin, and all the restaurants and public spaces were just really fuckin awesome. While I was walking around AIMLESSLY for the first 3 hours, i was able to witness the beer phenomenon that dominates berlin. literally everyone of all ages and styles carries a beer bottle in hand. As in, they're actively drinking it. literally everyone. I noticed at the airport, when I saw a group of teenagers get on the train with bottles, but I assumed they were just being rebels. Then at the busier stations I noticed men in suit coats, motherly looking women, kids, adults, EVERYONE had a beer! I felt left out! Then when I finally got to my quarter, it was exponentially more visible probably because it kept getting later as I was walking around. I loved that about berlin, they have no public drinking laws. There's no shame around drinking outside, but its not like people are really irresponsible. I met an american girl in my hostel, and we were talking about hwo australia, england and america have these crazy drinking problems, and those are all the countries with restrictions. fuckin europe's got it figured out, especially berlin.
BERLINS cheap as fuck. psyched for the food, it seems so multicultural, and the museums. i can tell tht i dont have enough time already. whatever. Mostly i just needed a fuckin map when I showed up, but once i got one the next morning from the hostel, I was on the go. The first day in berlin I did/saw SO many things. I'm gonna list because if not, itll be too long.
1)ate awesome pastry in a cafe in a childrens park right in front of my hostel. The cafe had a sand box inside for children
2)saw that there was a childrens market-literally, for and by children. The parents just sort of hung out in the background and socialized.
3)Found 3 different craft markets in the commercial center of the city. sunday is market day.
4)got a HUGE twice the size of my face cheese pretzel
5)saw the awesome downtown with the radio tower and all the other important buildings.
6)went into a memorial of all opressed people during world war 2 and after, really moving, and bare, just a grey statue with a red rose in front.
7)Went to bradenburg gate, which you should read about if ur interested. It was blocked off during the war and part of the death strip. now its a symbol of peace.
8)Went into a nondemonational room of silence...another nod of the head toward peace.
9)Went to the holocaust memorial, a huge series of different sized huge grey blocks. Melissa were u the one who showed me this before? it was surreal.
10)Went to the ruins of the building where the gestapo and german secret police had their headquarters. It was like an outdoor museum.
11)Went to checkpoint charlie, where the divide between east and west berlin (into the american part) was most heavily patrolled (at least thats what I gathered) It was a huge museum inside of an old house, very overwhelming, too many things on the walls, but lots of history.
12)Ate hagendaaz...lol
13)Went to the east side gallery, which is a HUGE section of the wall thats left in east berlin covered in murals, paintings/graffitti that are so beautiful...i dont even know how to explain. It was probably my favorite part of berlin.
14)Gorlitzer park-this awesome huge public park covered in grafitti, its sort of famous for its grafitti, and I went just to take pictures of it. Then i lost my camera, but im still glad I went, because the park had sucha cool vibe.
15)Went to this EPIC burger restuarant near my hostel with a girl, brook, from my hostel, and had huge pints of beer and the BEST BURGER IVE EVER EATEN in my entire life. It was called 'the works" had bacon, cheese, onions, meat, and something else amazing, as well as a huge order of chronic fries. it was kind of expensive, but a good decision.
Next day I....
1)Accidentally took the wrong train and took a detour way outside of berlin into residential countryside Germany on my way to a section of the wall
2)Went to another section of remains of the Wall in the quarter of berlin I was staying in, Prenzlauer Berg. This one was so different because you could go up into the old watch towers, where people were shot and killed if they tried to cross the wall/death strip. There was a beautiful skyline view of all of Berlin, with the radio tower, and really moving photos.
3)Ate falafel and fresh orange juice and baklava at a killer falafel restaurant
4)Found a dali museum that was open after realizing that on monday all the museums in europe are closed, and saw some of the craziest pen/pencil drawings I've ever seen. I'm a new dalì fanatic after that exhibit. The reason it was so cool was because it wasn't his famous paintings at all, it was all this sort of sketching, skulpture, and idea development stuff. I loved it.
5)bought 2 pairs of earings and new sunglasses that I really dig.
6)Went back to the burger place but only for their "Angry Hour" which is not happy hour, but the same idea. 2 pints of beer cost only 3€. I went with the girl from my hostel, and then we did a pub crawl through another hostel, and I met abunch of crazy canadians and australians.
7)Got back to my hostel at 5AM after realizing I'd lost my keys to the hostel, my eyeliner, one earring, and last but not least, my beloved DSLR camera.
8)woke up at 10:40 am when I had a 12:15 pm flight back to italy. took a cab there, and made just barely onto the flight.
I wouldn't take back a thing about berlin. Its stupid I lost the camera, but I had a great time, and I love the city. Everyone should go if they ever get a chance because it was crazy and I even had fun by myself. Its a beautiful and culturally CRAZY city.
Back to the daily grind here in italy
So anyway, the first night I got to berlin was quite a mess (like the rest of the trip, in retrospect). I got in at the airport around 8:30, stumbled around to find the train that took me into the city center. Took one train but where I needed to change trains, I didn't get off, so I accidentally rode the train back to the airport. Then when I got off at the right stop 30 minutes later, I couldn't find for the life of me where the train was that actually went into berlin, because everythign was under construction and there were no lights or signs, but hella people were moving around so I just stood still in the same spot trying to figure out wtf was going on. When I finally find the train I'm looking for, which is on a COMPLETELY different track and basically in another building, I ride it 2 stops before everyone gets off, even though it was supposed to end on the complete other side of town (where i needed to go). Turns out there was huge construction on a large part of the line, so the train stopped there. All the signs pointed to a bus line replacement for the lack of trains, but by this point, it'd alreayd been an hour or so, and I decided to call the hostel to get help. Poor lady heard from me like 6 times before I even got to the hostel. So i find a tram service instead of bus or subway, had to change trams at one point, and finally get to the neighborhood where I'm supposed to go. Only problem was that my map of berlin was a way too far zoomed out google maps version of berlin, so street names didn't help me at all. I basically ended up navigating the city like a maze, interpreting the shapes of the corners and angle to tell me where I was on the map. It took 1.5 hours of walking around the neighborhood where my hostel was before i RANDOMLY heard some english, stopped the people and asked if they knew where this one street was. As soon as I opened my mouth, one of the girls asked me if I was from california. didn't realize my accent was so identifiable? I always thought californians hd non-regional accents? anyway so I get pointed in the right diretion and FINALLY find the hostel.
Hostel was awesome. had free internet, great company, and a nice location. I was staying in the alternative students/artists quarter of berlin, and all the restaurants and public spaces were just really fuckin awesome. While I was walking around AIMLESSLY for the first 3 hours, i was able to witness the beer phenomenon that dominates berlin. literally everyone of all ages and styles carries a beer bottle in hand. As in, they're actively drinking it. literally everyone. I noticed at the airport, when I saw a group of teenagers get on the train with bottles, but I assumed they were just being rebels. Then at the busier stations I noticed men in suit coats, motherly looking women, kids, adults, EVERYONE had a beer! I felt left out! Then when I finally got to my quarter, it was exponentially more visible probably because it kept getting later as I was walking around. I loved that about berlin, they have no public drinking laws. There's no shame around drinking outside, but its not like people are really irresponsible. I met an american girl in my hostel, and we were talking about hwo australia, england and america have these crazy drinking problems, and those are all the countries with restrictions. fuckin europe's got it figured out, especially berlin.
BERLINS cheap as fuck. psyched for the food, it seems so multicultural, and the museums. i can tell tht i dont have enough time already. whatever. Mostly i just needed a fuckin map when I showed up, but once i got one the next morning from the hostel, I was on the go. The first day in berlin I did/saw SO many things. I'm gonna list because if not, itll be too long.
1)ate awesome pastry in a cafe in a childrens park right in front of my hostel. The cafe had a sand box inside for children
2)saw that there was a childrens market-literally, for and by children. The parents just sort of hung out in the background and socialized.
3)Found 3 different craft markets in the commercial center of the city. sunday is market day.
4)got a HUGE twice the size of my face cheese pretzel
5)saw the awesome downtown with the radio tower and all the other important buildings.
6)went into a memorial of all opressed people during world war 2 and after, really moving, and bare, just a grey statue with a red rose in front.
7)Went to bradenburg gate, which you should read about if ur interested. It was blocked off during the war and part of the death strip. now its a symbol of peace.
8)Went into a nondemonational room of silence...another nod of the head toward peace.
9)Went to the holocaust memorial, a huge series of different sized huge grey blocks. Melissa were u the one who showed me this before? it was surreal.
10)Went to the ruins of the building where the gestapo and german secret police had their headquarters. It was like an outdoor museum.
11)Went to checkpoint charlie, where the divide between east and west berlin (into the american part) was most heavily patrolled (at least thats what I gathered) It was a huge museum inside of an old house, very overwhelming, too many things on the walls, but lots of history.
12)Ate hagendaaz...lol
13)Went to the east side gallery, which is a HUGE section of the wall thats left in east berlin covered in murals, paintings/graffitti that are so beautiful...i dont even know how to explain. It was probably my favorite part of berlin.
14)Gorlitzer park-this awesome huge public park covered in grafitti, its sort of famous for its grafitti, and I went just to take pictures of it. Then i lost my camera, but im still glad I went, because the park had sucha cool vibe.
15)Went to this EPIC burger restuarant near my hostel with a girl, brook, from my hostel, and had huge pints of beer and the BEST BURGER IVE EVER EATEN in my entire life. It was called 'the works" had bacon, cheese, onions, meat, and something else amazing, as well as a huge order of chronic fries. it was kind of expensive, but a good decision.
Next day I....
1)Accidentally took the wrong train and took a detour way outside of berlin into residential countryside Germany on my way to a section of the wall
2)Went to another section of remains of the Wall in the quarter of berlin I was staying in, Prenzlauer Berg. This one was so different because you could go up into the old watch towers, where people were shot and killed if they tried to cross the wall/death strip. There was a beautiful skyline view of all of Berlin, with the radio tower, and really moving photos.
3)Ate falafel and fresh orange juice and baklava at a killer falafel restaurant
4)Found a dali museum that was open after realizing that on monday all the museums in europe are closed, and saw some of the craziest pen/pencil drawings I've ever seen. I'm a new dalì fanatic after that exhibit. The reason it was so cool was because it wasn't his famous paintings at all, it was all this sort of sketching, skulpture, and idea development stuff. I loved it.
5)bought 2 pairs of earings and new sunglasses that I really dig.
6)Went back to the burger place but only for their "Angry Hour" which is not happy hour, but the same idea. 2 pints of beer cost only 3€. I went with the girl from my hostel, and then we did a pub crawl through another hostel, and I met abunch of crazy canadians and australians.
7)Got back to my hostel at 5AM after realizing I'd lost my keys to the hostel, my eyeliner, one earring, and last but not least, my beloved DSLR camera.
8)woke up at 10:40 am when I had a 12:15 pm flight back to italy. took a cab there, and made just barely onto the flight.
I wouldn't take back a thing about berlin. Its stupid I lost the camera, but I had a great time, and I love the city. Everyone should go if they ever get a chance because it was crazy and I even had fun by myself. Its a beautiful and culturally CRAZY city.
Back to the daily grind here in italy
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