the barrista is a rather large middle-aged man who is barely awake.
His eyes have that sleepy look. He rubs his face and pauses a moment
in confusion. The bar is already full of activity, however, and
along with my coffee he favors me with a smile. Gratzie!
in San Gusme
my little bit of heaven I move about town taking pictures. A woman
is watering her already flourishing flowers, while tables stand
ready nearby for the Festa del Luca to come later that day. Two
cats, one pure white, the other solid black with golden eyes return
my look impassively. The church bells that I've been enjoying for
days, I now see perfectly framed between buildings with a bright
blue sky behind them - a further gift to me! I know that this is
one roll of film that will provide me with a treasure trove of wonderful
memories and paintings to do in my studio this winter.
Back at the
apartment Sam is ready, and drives us to a nearby town for the next
part of this adventure. Hello to Montevarchi where the main street
is closed to cars and we have time to stroll about a bit and get
a Gelato before the train arrives. Arrividerci to San Gusme. I promise
that I will return! Maybe I'll even speak a little of your beautiful
language next time!
the workshop, the art, crowds, food shopping and more.
Experience of the Poetry Writing Assignment
If there are
Gods of poetry, we have certainly been favored by them in this already
incredible workshop. We have Dr. Nils Peterson, Professor of Literature
and Humanities here to bring out the poet in each one of us. As
a rule, I don't seek out poetry readings, but when he shares his
own words, or those of other poets, I feel it, and today I find
myself doing a rhythmic doodle in my notebook as his voice reaches
Each day we
poetry challenged participants create what he calls a group poem.
We do this by accepting his assignment - Write one line on a theme
such as "The soul of an art object you have seen in Florence." Yes,
they were often awkward, but I am also pleasantly surprised by how
many are beautiful or humorous. I leave the rest to your imagination,
for the telling of it seems impossible. Only this, one of our last
poetry lines was on food. Ah, a stroke of genius - everyone was
at their best.