Yet another update from the land of Italia, where the sun is getting brighter every day, the wisteria blooms are dropping off, and some new kind of white trees are blooming, along with some other kind of yellow bush-things whose blooms look a little bit like orchids. Sorry, I’m not really a horticulturist. But I have been drying some flowers and using them in my sketchbook, which is kind of fun. I haven’t dried flowers since I was really little - good grief, probably not since I was twelve and someone gave me a little plastic flower press for Christmas one year. I wonder if I still have that? The poppies are also blooming, and Katie apparently loves poppies, so we went on a poppy-gathering expedition around the cliff this week. Unfortunately, Marlene, Elena, and I couldn’t precisely find the way back when we wanted to, so all our poppies died in our hands (well, Marlene really only had a cornstalk in her hand, and she just got sick of carrying it and threw it away). But those went into the sketchbook too, so I suppose it’s alright. It served a purpose.
Could it be that I am coming to terms with the color pink? I walk into my room and I’m not positively revolted by the pink flower on our sill (and it is, let me assure you, an electric pink). Nor am I positively revolted by the electric pink of my bedcover, although I did turn it over so that the gray side is foremost. The nice thing (and it may be the only one) about pink is that it casts warm shadows.
If spring is this warm, though, here in Italy, I think I may die when summer comes. Or at least take three cold showers a day. Elena and I have started running early in the mornings, now, when it’s still chilly, because neither of us can take the heat in the afternoon. It’s actually been good. I like seeing the world when it’s new, and when I get up early I don’t have to listen to Alexis interminably hitting her snooze button (the one thing that is a bone of contention between us - otherwise I think we make great roommates). My mood, frankly, has been great every morning that I wake up to my alarm going off just once, and getting out of the room for some untalkative time when everything is beautiful and fresh. Today I’m sore, but it’s still good. Would you be ridiculously shocked if I came home and kept on running? (I think I would be! But it would probably be good for my cholesterol? Lord, we eat so much cheese here that it’s ridiculous.) I don’t know - I just feel better about myself when I know I’ve gone running, so maybe that’s worth keeping, regardless of whether it actually helps me regulate my weight or not.
I have conceived of an unholy passion for asiago cheese, artichoke hearts, and honey. Not all together, of course - that would be interesting, but odd - but oh man, in separate dishes, or (in the case of asiago cheese) just by itself.... I swear, when I get back to the states I am learning how to cook artichoke hearts, and I am using asiago cheese whenever I can. And I am going to try and find some honey without all of those ridiculous preservatives and texture-regulator things in it. I like the texture of real honey, although not in or on everything. Also, sheep cheese is pretty good. I love just spreading it on a piece of toast (‘cause it’s kind of soft). Nutella is also pretty rocking, but that at least I can get back in the states.
I went out and bought a little espresso maker, too, so that I can have easily-made espresso back in the states. I’m so excited! Whee! We can make some seriously good coffee drinks now. I am so looking forward to it. As soon as Laura teaches me how to use it. =)
I don’t know that there’s really a lot to tell - I got to get in some good solid reading time yesterday, so that was nice. I ended with mainly negative feelings about the book (White Oleander - she wielded her language well, but the reason it sold so well is probably because it’s filled with sex. What the author thought was real in the story was not what was real in the story, and so when it came time for her to wrap up at the end, she fell flat. No belief in narrative, as Skillen would say. So yeah, I guess I just feel like the author kind of lost her way along with the character. There was an ending there, waiting to be found, but the author forgot to find it.), but just being able to sit down and devour a book in a day again was great. You know what I got a hankering to read, the other day, though? The Sabriel books again. So genius. Someday I want to be Garth Nix. Except I still want to be me. So basically, I just want to steal his brilliance. Someday when I am a master thief. =D
This weekend is great, because it marks the end of Italian class, and the end of Renaissance history class. I’ll be a little bit sorry to see the end of Renaissance History class now (although I freely admit that it drove me completely bonkers at first, and I still bear no great love towards Renaissance art. I’m just more intellectually piqued by it I suppose), but I’m so darn excited to get back into the studio. Sure, it’s a higher pressure environment in terms of comparing myself to other people, but I’m ready to keep learning and keep pushing myself and getting back to making something with my hands that I actually care about. The Italian class I’ll miss just in terms of impetus to continue learning Italian, but I think I’ll be able to manage without that. I’ll certainly be able to manage without those stressful tutoring sessions.
Alright loves, it’s such a beautiful day that I just can’t sit inside typing on my computer anymore. I’m thinking of going to the park near the fort, or heck, just sitting on the terrace and doing some writing.