I usually leave my writing class feeling really inspired and there's no reason why I should've waited until a month in to let the inspiration take me where it pleases, but I guess better late than never. Normally after class, I simply go home and I don't know why I do that. I have no more obligations for the day so why don't I do more exploring? I don't know where my thirst for these things has been hiding recently but thank god it's back because in case I forgot...I'm in Italy!
Today after class, I walked. I accidentally walked to cross the bridge much farther away than the one behind me, the one I meant to cross. But the good news is that I have nowhere to be! And I think I just decided to start bringing my camera with me to class because I just saw a man, at least fifty years of age, rowing down the river and I wish I could've taken a picture because that was cool.
I should probably describe my location. I crossed the bridge and once I did I found a shady spot to sit on the wall that lines the river. The wall steps down which makes it perfect for leaning on. I can see the entire city from here. I can see the towering bell towers of Palazzo Vecchio and Santa Croce. In front of Palazzo Vecchio I can see the two towers of the library that's right by the class I just came from. And behind Santa Croce I can see my Duomo. It looks much better from here, where I can actually appreciate it. When I'm simply trying to get from point A to point B, I'm always too busy fighting through tourists, artists or horsedrawn carriages and littering the ground with my cigarette butts trying to look unapproachable for the sake of being left alone just once.
The Arno looks better from here as well. When the sun shines the water actually looks blue. You have to look at a distance though. Don't look at the water right below you, unless you like the sight of dirty green water, in which case, go ahead. I don't think I've been so peacefully alone since I've been here and it feels great. The occasional bikers or small groups of Italian friends pass by, which I like because I love eavesdropping on Italian conversations, but there isn't an abundance of Americans! They're all over there on the main side taking photos of these ancient landmarks and taking guided tours where they're being told what to look at and what to appreciate and what to rave about later. It's a bit of a game that goes on here. People marvel at what their touring books have told them to marvel at. They go to the Gucci and Prada stores, take rides on the horsedrawn carriages, buy the miniature versions of the David, always always always buy gelato, and enjoy their vacation to "Renaissance Disneyland." I admit that sometimes it's fun to play along with the game because after all, there is a reason so many people come here to marvel and take pictures. When I walk past these places I sincerely try to remember to appreciate the architecure, the art and the history that make these buildings so famous. But the games does make it difficult to see things through your own eyes and and admit that those famous buildings are definitely looking mighty fine from far away where they're not being such a burden.
In class today, we discussed the idea of distinguishing ourselves as either a nomad or a settler. A settler being someone who has, or desires to have, a place to call home. And a nomad being someone who is always moving and never stays in one place long enough to call it home. I said that I think I'm a wannabe nomad because while travelling makes my heart smile and I get ancy if I stay in one place for too long without at least a weekend getaway, I have always had a place to call home. I've lived in St. Louis my entire life. I'm happy to have a place to call home, but is St. Louis STILL home? We've talked about this in my class before as well. Where is home? Your hometown? College town? Current town? For me...
St. Louis equals home because my parents have lived there my whole life. It's where I grew up, went to high school and met my best friends. It's the city that has made me a Cardinal for life who will stay up until 5am watching a playoff game while the rest of Florence is fast asleep.
But Kentucky equals family. I feel just as much at home at my grandparents' house in my dad's hometown as I do at my house in my hometown. Since being in Italy, I'm discovering that my Kentuckian family has had more influence on me than I knew. When I listen to stories upon stories of my dad's life, my uncle's life, my grandparents' lives, and even my grandaunts' and granduncles' lives in Kentucky, I can see the sense of pride. They probably don't notice what I notice but I've definitely noticed that I come from a family that likes to live simply and work hard, aspects of life that I like to apply to my own. Oh...and family always comes first. I love that and I love them. Go UK basketball!!
My other home though is in Lawrence, Kansas where I will be able to say that I spent four amazing years and experienced everything wonderful and awful that is college. My Kansas home is what causes me to come here and boast with more school pride than my friends can understand. It's where I met more of my best friends and for the past three years, it's been my home away from home because it's where I live independently from my family and my friends from high school.
But now, Florence is my current home. It's the home that's undoubtedly changing me, and being here is an experience I'm going to take with me always. Florence is the city that's caused me to wonder where else I might someday call home. It's my present, but it too, like St. Louis, Kentucky and Kansas, will change the way I feel about my future. So add it to the list of places I call home because I love it here!
I'M NEVER COMING BACK!!
(kidding...but really...)
"The secret to life is meaningless unless you discover it yourself." - W. S. Gilbert
No comments:
Post a Comment