After passing a lovely weekend with my boyfriend in Milan, I have thus finished my monday plunge into the week and its activities. Sometimes I find it extremely difficult to deal with the various sectors of my "think tank." For instance, I have lots of different obligations/priorities/thoughts, and their space between distance, time, and relativity are wide--I sometimes find myself in a tizzy trying to think of which to address first. It would also help if there was overlapping in my life, but at this point it seems as if that is not the case.
My family and most of my friends are in the US, my boyfriend and I see one another solely on weekends, my official job is three days a week-not including preparation, my painting should occur the other two days, plus my future master degree/scholarship/artistic goals conundrum. It just all seems like one big mess of things where not many of my commitments, relationship-job-desires, correspond. Oh well, how did I find myself in these circles? My life could be a lot easier--but I guess I always search to complicate it.
Anyways, Saturday night, Matteo took me to see Gato Barbieri play at the Blue Note in Milan. The Blue Note is the famous house for jazz artists in Milan, an institution that also finds its home in other major cities around the globe, like New York. Gato Barbieri is an Argentinian sax player who is a Latin jazz legend, being one of the "first musicians to fuse jazz with an number of Latin rhythms that were not Afro-Cuban," says my flyer. In any case, Matteo and I have been wanting to go to the Blue Note for some time, and despite the higher price of the tickets, we decided to make a night of it and go. I had a wonderful time, and I had fun dressing up for the evening out. We first shared an aperitivo with friends, and he and I remained talking at the locale while those friends went to a underground rock concert--that is obviously less of my scene. It was nice to hang out before the show, and we began discussing this "Camping in Italy" idea that we've cooked up lately. We'd like to do 12 days driving the coasts of Southern Italy in a tent (going to campgrounds of course). It might sound odd, but apparently it is something that many young people do here. Just thinking about the adventure of this trip makes me start going crazy so I don't really want to think about it until it materializes more fully.
We arrived at the Blue Note, scored an awesome table on the second tier of the room-front row, and we ordered a bottle of Prosecco-the white bubbly fizzy wine that seems to be perfectly suited to jazz music. There were candles, and I was 100% in my happy zone. haha. He looked at me with this funny smile on his face. When I asked him, "What are you laughing about??!" he responded, "I am just really happy I can take my girlfriend to something so cool like this." Needless to say, the concert was amazing. He was older in age, and he slowly walked out to the stage with large dark characteristic glasses, a suit and a hat--he started out slow with his band at his back, the percussionist, drummer, and the pianist playing away creating the mood, the rhythms, and the crescendo; the notes that came out of that saxophone were strong and silky, as if he were 30 years old blasting out the music. The group in general was fantastic, and I was especially captivated by the percussionist and his wild dexterity in the way his hands flew around the diverse array of instruments. We both loved the show, and I was really happy to have had the relaxing musical melodies cap of the evening with Matteo. As I called for the cab inside, Matteo whisked in from the street with a red rose in hand--and we ran out happy, me with my rose, to the street to expect our ride home. It was a lovely night.
We are gearing up for Paris in a few days, and we looked over my "Parigi" book that I bought at the book store. We will be touring Nazis for sure, and I have to brush up on my basic French. At least he has a nice French accent. Between his knowledge of history and mine of art, we should be decently prepared. One thing is for sure--at 9:30am on Friday, my bum will be ascending the steps of the Eiffel Tower. Oui oui!!!
à tout à l'heure!
Monday, February 8, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Art, Brainstorms, and Brainwork
Today, I am fighting to recount my disillusion with the contemporary art world and how stupid and jaded it has all turned out to be. I have never fit in with the "current" of artists or contemporary art lovers. I have been trying to not be influenced or consumed by the system for years--since the first days in university when I started discovering the overwhelming reality of the contemporary situation.
Art that has entered a field of useless production that is not made for the people, but for a pool of people that continues filling and feeding the system with empty and abstract concepts, shock-effect productions, and the insatiable search for the "cutting-edge"--we have arrived at the point where to do something contemporary in art has become superficial, non-enduring, just like our society. Curators are usually very intelligent people, and it must be a shame when they get to that little elite circle to only start biting at their own tails and having to regale art objects that a 3rd grader could judge as being mindless shit.
Its like those high intellectual philosophers that are so far gone in their field that their conception of the non-reality of the "reality" has made them completely ridiculous and almost retro-learning ignorant of basic truths and common sense. Duh of course, you Wak, we can study and question the idea of reality--but its study should not make us incapable of living and rationalizing within it.
I am deciding on Masters programs...but as a surprise to you all, I am thinking about following an urban design/Public art degree instead of art. It is not decided yet, but it has something to do with my delusions in the art field.....and something else to do with my idea that I should diversify my skill range instead of specializing even more in this world of strange people. Today I was demoralized because we critiqued my paintings (which went really well with a renowned curator) and then we analyzed two other projects: a stick hung on a wall....and an audio registration of something disgusting (I won't go into detail). In the end, I was so demoralized by the genuine nature of my artistic goals, that I began a new brainstorm on continued education. Is it persistence that perseveres against the wierdos or is it amplifying knowledge that makes you more flexible. Bah hum bug. Freaking art---how am I involved in this "contemporary art" crap. ha ha ha. hellllllp!!!!! I will decide, and art will always be a huge part of me--always painting for sure.
Okay, enough of my rant and brainstorm. ----and I have just found my next rant of the day:
Below is a conversation with an EXTREMELY intelligent friend of mine: I am "C" and he is "B"....
C: what exactly are you doing with your genius brain?
B: Cara you're making me smile but I'm making video games
C: really??? what kind?
B: the ones that spam your Facebook newsfeed...
C: like little ones?
B: no, they're kinda big, Have you heard of FarmVille? Mafia Wars? YoVille?
C: no dear....but maybe I should know about them--I don't like being on the internet, im sure my sister has heard of them : )
B: hahahah, awe well yeah so basically the company at 50 employees when I joined last December now we've grown to over 800 employees.
C: wow..that is awesome
B: and we're the largest developer of social game. 60 million people play per day
C: are they educational?
B: no... they're just addicting and social. The game I'm working on is called YoVille - it's kinda like the Sims but it's on facebook
so you can decorate your apt and buy houses and you can also see your friends apts and stuff.
C: hmmm..interesting.. I liked the Sims. It is a cool idea because I liked SIMS...No offense dear, but I think social games are the reason that there are 60 million people that are stupid.
B: hahaha. so wait (btw I'm not taking offense) are you saying stupid people play the games? or the games are making people stupid?
C: no people devoting themselves to addictive games decreases intelligence, and maybe increases synapses in the brain.
People aren't stupid, but they would never read a book instead.
B: ahhhhh, well yeah I do hear your argument there
C: haha...However, I know I may be a bit ignorant to the whole world of game playing
however, I like to be sincere. I think you're very intelligent so I'm interested to know your motivation
B: You're at least partially right...I usually don't understand our users but the work is really interesting to me. I'm really into computer graphics and it was also an amazing experience to be here at a Silicon Valley startup while we were scaling our webservers up from having 30,000 users per day on my game, to over 4,000,000 per day
C: I am sure that it is an awesome experience, and you obviously have the capabilities to do amazing things on the computer that are very hard for me to grasp...and I am sure it is a challenge for you to create things like the games....
however, maybe the next game can be a geography test so people can place India on a map : )
B: I promise Cara I will use my powers for good
C: LOL...you understand my point..very good dear, Im happy. You have such an awesome brain, you can do so much good.
B: Haha thanks
In any case folks, I hope that my friend does go on to do great great things--not constructing games that he considers to be "just addicting and social." Brains of today--function to develop other brains!--not numb them.
Sincerely,
Me
Art that has entered a field of useless production that is not made for the people, but for a pool of people that continues filling and feeding the system with empty and abstract concepts, shock-effect productions, and the insatiable search for the "cutting-edge"--we have arrived at the point where to do something contemporary in art has become superficial, non-enduring, just like our society. Curators are usually very intelligent people, and it must be a shame when they get to that little elite circle to only start biting at their own tails and having to regale art objects that a 3rd grader could judge as being mindless shit.
Its like those high intellectual philosophers that are so far gone in their field that their conception of the non-reality of the "reality" has made them completely ridiculous and almost retro-learning ignorant of basic truths and common sense. Duh of course, you Wak, we can study and question the idea of reality--but its study should not make us incapable of living and rationalizing within it.
I am deciding on Masters programs...but as a surprise to you all, I am thinking about following an urban design/Public art degree instead of art. It is not decided yet, but it has something to do with my delusions in the art field.....and something else to do with my idea that I should diversify my skill range instead of specializing even more in this world of strange people. Today I was demoralized because we critiqued my paintings (which went really well with a renowned curator) and then we analyzed two other projects: a stick hung on a wall....and an audio registration of something disgusting (I won't go into detail). In the end, I was so demoralized by the genuine nature of my artistic goals, that I began a new brainstorm on continued education. Is it persistence that perseveres against the wierdos or is it amplifying knowledge that makes you more flexible. Bah hum bug. Freaking art---how am I involved in this "contemporary art" crap. ha ha ha. hellllllp!!!!! I will decide, and art will always be a huge part of me--always painting for sure.
Okay, enough of my rant and brainstorm. ----and I have just found my next rant of the day:
Below is a conversation with an EXTREMELY intelligent friend of mine: I am "C" and he is "B"....
C: what exactly are you doing with your genius brain?
B: Cara you're making me smile but I'm making video games
C: really??? what kind?
B: the ones that spam your Facebook newsfeed...
C: like little ones?
B: no, they're kinda big, Have you heard of FarmVille? Mafia Wars? YoVille?
C: no dear....but maybe I should know about them--I don't like being on the internet, im sure my sister has heard of them : )
B: hahahah, awe well yeah so basically the company at 50 employees when I joined last December now we've grown to over 800 employees.
C: wow..that is awesome
B: and we're the largest developer of social game. 60 million people play per day
C: are they educational?
B: no... they're just addicting and social. The game I'm working on is called YoVille - it's kinda like the Sims but it's on facebook
so you can decorate your apt and buy houses and you can also see your friends apts and stuff.
C: hmmm..interesting.. I liked the Sims. It is a cool idea because I liked SIMS...No offense dear, but I think social games are the reason that there are 60 million people that are stupid.
B: hahaha. so wait (btw I'm not taking offense) are you saying stupid people play the games? or the games are making people stupid?
C: no people devoting themselves to addictive games decreases intelligence, and maybe increases synapses in the brain.
People aren't stupid, but they would never read a book instead.
B: ahhhhh, well yeah I do hear your argument there
C: haha...However, I know I may be a bit ignorant to the whole world of game playing
however, I like to be sincere. I think you're very intelligent so I'm interested to know your motivation
B: You're at least partially right...I usually don't understand our users but the work is really interesting to me. I'm really into computer graphics and it was also an amazing experience to be here at a Silicon Valley startup while we were scaling our webservers up from having 30,000 users per day on my game, to over 4,000,000 per day
C: I am sure that it is an awesome experience, and you obviously have the capabilities to do amazing things on the computer that are very hard for me to grasp...and I am sure it is a challenge for you to create things like the games....
however, maybe the next game can be a geography test so people can place India on a map : )
B: I promise Cara I will use my powers for good
C: LOL...you understand my point..very good dear, Im happy. You have such an awesome brain, you can do so much good.
B: Haha thanks
In any case folks, I hope that my friend does go on to do great great things--not constructing games that he considers to be "just addicting and social." Brains of today--function to develop other brains!--not numb them.
Sincerely,
Me
Monday, February 1, 2010
Love-take the risk
School day today. I am slowly trying new recipes in my cookbook and improvising.
I have gotten into the habit of listening to a jazz radio station on my Itunes music player. It is really relaxing, and I am developing a really big crush on the genre in general. It is improvisational, unpredictable, and its rhythms jive really well with my spirit and way that I like to be--For instance, when I listen to jazz, it is like it funnels all of my thoughts along a nice pleasant road.
Anyways, last night I was writing about my weekend spent with Matteo. It is all cute and nice to describe our relaxing weekend together, but a few moments stood out more than others. Sunday, Matteo drove me back to my apartment in Milan. I was slightly depressed because he would leave soon. He helped me set up and organize my new domestic purchases in my room, including a small 9 Euro shelf to place next to my desk. At the end, he rested his arms on my shoulders and we had this conversation:
Me: "Thanks, Matteo, you are so special. What would I do without you?"
Ma: "Dear, you know I love you."
Me: " Seriously, you know-you make me happy---you are my Italy"
Ma: " And you, baby Dear, you are my America."
Smile
Me: "I hope you like the place."
Ma: "Its fantastic."
Now, please note that I am translating and summarizing--so it sounded a lot less cheesy in the real version (I hope). Also important detail--my name is officially "Dear" to him. haha. Aside from these small moments, I will confess that I love the sincere deep look in his eyes when he looks at me. This is love ladies and gentlemen.
I was having a conversation with my colleague, Amber, today. She is a cool American girl in her thirties living in Milan, and we have a really nice rapport. We usually walk to the train station together, and talking to her is like a breath of fresh air because not only do we speak the same language, but we have the same type of sarcasm-based anglo-saxon humor, we share stories, and waste no time making jokes about the incredible particularities and frustrations attributed to the Italian system. We especially like asking questions that can only be rhetorical in this country--because most things don't make sense!
I hope that I will some day be able to fully express the incredible nature of this country--the good, the bad, and the why--what makes it tick--this unique tick that can only be created by the Italian personality and history. Amber and I talk about everything from men to traffic to the extraordinarily long teacher meetings (where EVERYONE must have a say), etc. However, besides discussing the unconceivable traffic patterns today, she gave me some advice.
I mentioned my growing affection for Matteo that has brought about small inhibitions due to the fact that a future that is not easily foreseen or devised. From a girl who has lived outside of the US for quite some time now, she blatantly said that my attitude and tendency to plan and ask "where and how is this going to work" is a very American way to view my current situation. Without this conversation with Amber, I had already decided that I would have to embrace this relationship day by day, seeing where it took me. Therefore, this is my plan. The road map takes unexpected turns--one that no GPS navigator can expect or predict. This applies to both life and love. Therefore, I'm learning to throw away the guide--take life day by day--work hard, love it, and live it up.
I have gotten into the habit of listening to a jazz radio station on my Itunes music player. It is really relaxing, and I am developing a really big crush on the genre in general. It is improvisational, unpredictable, and its rhythms jive really well with my spirit and way that I like to be--For instance, when I listen to jazz, it is like it funnels all of my thoughts along a nice pleasant road.
Anyways, last night I was writing about my weekend spent with Matteo. It is all cute and nice to describe our relaxing weekend together, but a few moments stood out more than others. Sunday, Matteo drove me back to my apartment in Milan. I was slightly depressed because he would leave soon. He helped me set up and organize my new domestic purchases in my room, including a small 9 Euro shelf to place next to my desk. At the end, he rested his arms on my shoulders and we had this conversation:
Me: "Thanks, Matteo, you are so special. What would I do without you?"
Ma: "Dear, you know I love you."
Me: " Seriously, you know-you make me happy---you are my Italy"
Ma: " And you, baby Dear, you are my America."
Smile
Me: "I hope you like the place."
Ma: "Its fantastic."
Now, please note that I am translating and summarizing--so it sounded a lot less cheesy in the real version (I hope). Also important detail--my name is officially "Dear" to him. haha. Aside from these small moments, I will confess that I love the sincere deep look in his eyes when he looks at me. This is love ladies and gentlemen.
I was having a conversation with my colleague, Amber, today. She is a cool American girl in her thirties living in Milan, and we have a really nice rapport. We usually walk to the train station together, and talking to her is like a breath of fresh air because not only do we speak the same language, but we have the same type of sarcasm-based anglo-saxon humor, we share stories, and waste no time making jokes about the incredible particularities and frustrations attributed to the Italian system. We especially like asking questions that can only be rhetorical in this country--because most things don't make sense!
I hope that I will some day be able to fully express the incredible nature of this country--the good, the bad, and the why--what makes it tick--this unique tick that can only be created by the Italian personality and history. Amber and I talk about everything from men to traffic to the extraordinarily long teacher meetings (where EVERYONE must have a say), etc. However, besides discussing the unconceivable traffic patterns today, she gave me some advice.
I mentioned my growing affection for Matteo that has brought about small inhibitions due to the fact that a future that is not easily foreseen or devised. From a girl who has lived outside of the US for quite some time now, she blatantly said that my attitude and tendency to plan and ask "where and how is this going to work" is a very American way to view my current situation. Without this conversation with Amber, I had already decided that I would have to embrace this relationship day by day, seeing where it took me. Therefore, this is my plan. The road map takes unexpected turns--one that no GPS navigator can expect or predict. This applies to both life and love. Therefore, I'm learning to throw away the guide--take life day by day--work hard, love it, and live it up.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Relaxing weekend with Matteo
I just settled in bed after a weekend spent outside of Milan at Matteo's house. Towards the end of last week, I was getting anxious to see him because the week was extremely busy with work, grading, field trips, meetings, and painting at the end. Friday night, I just really wanted to escape the city and see the one person in this country that always makes me happy.
I took a taxi to the train station, a luxury I have only used a handful of times in the city, due to my heavy bags and the cold temperature softly spitting snow flurries in the air. The train was warm while my curly hair, still damp from the shower, was tucked neatly inside my black cap. I looked at my reflection in the train window to make sure a few curls fell out of the cap, applying red lipstick to complete a 20's look that I feels captures romanticism on trains. haha. In reality, I was incredibly rushed while packing my bags, and the train window was pertinent to fix up my disheveled look before seeing Matteo. I calmly read the paper while waiting my stop. As the train slowed at the station, I saw him standing in his red coat waiting for me outside the train. I stumbled out of the train with a purely giddy feeling arising in my stomach, smacking my bags down on the platform. He walked toward me with his stagger and with a smile pasted on his face. I had arrived.
We spent a really nice weekend together, and Friday night we ate dinner with his parents before their departure for Genova the next morning--their usual weekend residence. Afterwards, Matteo fell asleep while watching a movie. I said..."Matteo, you are sleeping!" He responded: "No, dear, I was looking at you." It obviously wasn't true as his eyes were closed and he was nearly snoring at the end of his sentence.
Saturday, we spent a nice day together--it was relaxing; we took a walk, we ate lunch at his sister's house, and we went to an Italian version of IKEA to pick up a few things that I have needed for my apartment. His sister and brother-in-law are very nice people, and they have an adorable baby who just learned to walk around Christmastime. I really enjoyed the time spent at their house, and it is nice that she and Matteo have such a nice rapport. He absolutely loves his nephew, and it is cute seeing him interacting with the baby.
At night, we went out to dinner with his friend Giacomo and his girlfriend, Valentina, in a nearby town at a restaurant on a hill. It was a really cute place with a grey stone interior and a hearth. We all ate appetizers, first and second courses, dessert, coffee, grappa, and 2 bottles of wine. It was a really nice dinner, and we all had a good time talking. Coincidentally, Matteo's cousin ended up at the restaurant that night so I was introduced to more of the family. Afterwards, we went to a discoteca dance club in a city close by, and we all had a fun time. There was a live band that sang covers of mostly American, English, and Italian pop songs, and I thought that they were great entertainers. The vocalists were very talented, and I swear some of their covers were almost better than the real songs. For instance, the woman vocalist sang Beyonce in a way I've heard few people replicate. However, despite the fun dancing (which was much needed after the long week), the high point of the night for me was when the group invited a man on stage to sing. He was older and bald, and I did not expect the Pavarati notes and scales to escape from his mouth when he started singing some of the most famous Italian operatic ballads. It was awesome, and I was emotionally enraptured during the few songs he belted out amongst the crowd. It was so powerful, and I am completely seduced by the passionate deluge of opera--how cool! It was just so strange seeing something like that inside a dance club.
Today was also very relaxed--the most significant thing to recount is that Matteo fixed lunch, and later we hung out in his bedroom while he read to me from one of his favorite books--a book about America written by an Italian journalist. This is not the first time that he has read to me--I find it relaxing, and he takes time to explain if there is something I don't understand. It was very difficult for me to say goodbye to him when he dropped me off at my apartment in Milan this evening.
Another week ahead.
I took a taxi to the train station, a luxury I have only used a handful of times in the city, due to my heavy bags and the cold temperature softly spitting snow flurries in the air. The train was warm while my curly hair, still damp from the shower, was tucked neatly inside my black cap. I looked at my reflection in the train window to make sure a few curls fell out of the cap, applying red lipstick to complete a 20's look that I feels captures romanticism on trains. haha. In reality, I was incredibly rushed while packing my bags, and the train window was pertinent to fix up my disheveled look before seeing Matteo. I calmly read the paper while waiting my stop. As the train slowed at the station, I saw him standing in his red coat waiting for me outside the train. I stumbled out of the train with a purely giddy feeling arising in my stomach, smacking my bags down on the platform. He walked toward me with his stagger and with a smile pasted on his face. I had arrived.
We spent a really nice weekend together, and Friday night we ate dinner with his parents before their departure for Genova the next morning--their usual weekend residence. Afterwards, Matteo fell asleep while watching a movie. I said..."Matteo, you are sleeping!" He responded: "No, dear, I was looking at you." It obviously wasn't true as his eyes were closed and he was nearly snoring at the end of his sentence.
Saturday, we spent a nice day together--it was relaxing; we took a walk, we ate lunch at his sister's house, and we went to an Italian version of IKEA to pick up a few things that I have needed for my apartment. His sister and brother-in-law are very nice people, and they have an adorable baby who just learned to walk around Christmastime. I really enjoyed the time spent at their house, and it is nice that she and Matteo have such a nice rapport. He absolutely loves his nephew, and it is cute seeing him interacting with the baby.
At night, we went out to dinner with his friend Giacomo and his girlfriend, Valentina, in a nearby town at a restaurant on a hill. It was a really cute place with a grey stone interior and a hearth. We all ate appetizers, first and second courses, dessert, coffee, grappa, and 2 bottles of wine. It was a really nice dinner, and we all had a good time talking. Coincidentally, Matteo's cousin ended up at the restaurant that night so I was introduced to more of the family. Afterwards, we went to a discoteca dance club in a city close by, and we all had a fun time. There was a live band that sang covers of mostly American, English, and Italian pop songs, and I thought that they were great entertainers. The vocalists were very talented, and I swear some of their covers were almost better than the real songs. For instance, the woman vocalist sang Beyonce in a way I've heard few people replicate. However, despite the fun dancing (which was much needed after the long week), the high point of the night for me was when the group invited a man on stage to sing. He was older and bald, and I did not expect the Pavarati notes and scales to escape from his mouth when he started singing some of the most famous Italian operatic ballads. It was awesome, and I was emotionally enraptured during the few songs he belted out amongst the crowd. It was so powerful, and I am completely seduced by the passionate deluge of opera--how cool! It was just so strange seeing something like that inside a dance club.
Today was also very relaxed--the most significant thing to recount is that Matteo fixed lunch, and later we hung out in his bedroom while he read to me from one of his favorite books--a book about America written by an Italian journalist. This is not the first time that he has read to me--I find it relaxing, and he takes time to explain if there is something I don't understand. It was very difficult for me to say goodbye to him when he dropped me off at my apartment in Milan this evening.
Another week ahead.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Update: In Italy-Involved-In Love.
After a long time of silence, I have decided to "pick up the pen" once more. The reason for my absence can be described simply, and it is due to the fact that my life in mid-November became incredibly hectic.
As I had been describing in those November days, I was teaching three days a week at my Italian private school in Monza, a city north east of Milan. My first teaching experience came as a sudden opportunity in late September, and I was thrown into a school of energetic and rambunctious Italian kiddies-of the ages 9-14-hormones, curiosity, and self-discovery flying crazily about the air. My experiences thus far have been both challenging, rewarding, and incredibly humorous for several reasons. I still get a kick out of the fact that I am actually considered to be a "prof", giving parent interviews and collaborating in teacher meetings. In fact, I just spent this January week preparing the grades for the first term report card for all of my classes, I gave my first oral interrogation of my high schoolers on Wednesday (a large part of the Italian testing method), and I am currently preparing the curriculum for the high school art history classes that I will teach in March--while trying desperately to organize a class field trip to Ravenna.
Speaking of field trips, I lead my second and third year middle school students on a field trip today to see the Duomo and an art show in Milan. Along with my fellow colleagues, we took them of a tour of the Edward Hopper exhibition at Palazzo Reale near the Duomo, and after a pitstop at Micky D's for lunch, we gave them a tour of the Duomo that ended with our bird's eye experience on the roof. I will expound upon my field trip day in a bit--but for now, I will say that I enjoyed recreational time with my students. They are hilarious, and I find it cute that they all wanted to take pictures of me--their "Prof."
A part from my new Italian teacher phase in life, I had also taken on two mural jobs before Christmas. One commission in the hospital in which I painted my large volunteer project. The other mural was commissioned by my school where the director of the school called me into his office with the 3 principals of the school. I thought that I was in trouble! Instead, they then proposed that I paint a nativity scene for the school. Soon after this interview, I went to buy paints and a piece of wood 3X2 meters in dimension was ordered for me. After presenting them with a sketch of my Nativity idea, I succeeded in realizing my design on the primed wood within two weeks--working about 6 days because I had to paint after my teaching duties were finished. As I donned my painting shirt over my teacher clothes, paintbrush in hand, people in the school started to stop by to see the new activity in Art room 2. My students were enthralled with my painting--complimenting me, asking questions, and playing with my paint. Their eyes lit up when they realized that their teacher was painting the Nativity, and they looked entranced as I worked--even the ones that usually act out and chatter in class turned into puppies as they watched me and offered to change my water, etc. It was a wonderful experience even though I finished every night at 7--still to catch the train home to Milan. However, it was also paid work which also made the hours worth even more besides the genuine respect I was gaining from both my students and my colleagues.
There is one colleague that was very impressed with my painting, and this would be the famous Letizia that I have mentioned in my previous blogs. This is the teacher that was famous for not collaborating in the school-the teacher who has been with the Collegio for the longest period of time, the teacher that wasn't receptive to the idea of having to work with a young American girl who would be inserted as the new art teacher for the "English speaking" program at the school. After the first rocky weeks of working with Letizia, I was clinging onto the hope of winning her over. Despite the difficulties that she presented in our collaboration in the beginning (not wanting to have meetings, etc), I persisted with my plan of attack: Be as nice as possible, as willing as possible, don't push agendas, and show her that you respect her, her position, and above all--her experience. I complimented her alot, lets say--haha! In the end....I have to say that I think that we are now FRIENDS!
I have the feeling now that she trusts me, and my mural project at the school I think won her appreciation of my talent. At this point, I have grown to genuinely like her. She has a quarky and funny personality that I find really endearing, and conversely, I think that she has warmed to me. She now meets me willingly during our planning period, and we try to make time to grab a coffee together. After experience with her in the classroom, I have learned that I respect her and her teaching style--she really has a nice way of explaining the projects to the children, and her advice is appreciated and valued. She also cares a lot for the students, and I admire this aspect in her. So my rather rough welcome has blossomed into a rapport that I only hopes continues to grow closer--maybe even developing the program for the students with both of our heads put together. We'll see!
What else? well, I continued to correct articles for the art magazine, Flashart, and I corrected nearly 40 in the month of November and December, making appearances at their main office several times. However, I havn't heard from them the since my vacation at home, and I am wondering now if I should re-contact them. I really liked reading the articles even though it loaded up my already heavy plate before the holidays. Oh Italians are compicated.
Christmas shopping was another mission that I had before flying back the the United States! My mother asked me to pick up some special Italian gifts for the family in addition to my own Christmas presents--which of course was a wonderful job, but I had to make sure that I did all of my shopping. The absence of a car already makes shopping missions complicated affairs if you have varied present ideas, and to add to the lack of mobility, I will also blatantly state that in Italy no simple shopping mission is easily accomplished without running around in several circles--if not countless, unnecessary, and unbelievably maddening circles-not considering your luck. In any case, I was very proud because I believe that I found really great gifts for everyone in the family--trying to be fair and adhere to everyone's taste and possible desire-with genu-ine Made in Italy trademarks on the tags. Therefore, I came home with one suitcase laden with presents as if i was the Italian Santa Clause or Babbo Natale! I love giving presents, and I was happy this year that I at least had a job to afford some fun Christmas surprises from the Old Country.
I wont recount my airport saga to arrive home for Christmas, but in short, I will say that I will NEVER ever EVER again travel so close to Christmas. I passed a grueling 1.5 days trying to land my little butt back in Pittsburgh--in the arms of everything I know and love for my favorite holiday season. I arrived on Christmas Eve to forget about my sleep exhaustion from the uncomfortable plane, the night sleeping in the JFK airport on top of my bags, eyes open, and the emotional trauma endured. Everything was forgotten, and I was home--Christmas tree glowing, dressed to go to Christmas mass, in the warmth of my Gram's house stuffing my face with delicious food at her round table, conversation flying, and my life in Italy a distant memory.
I hopped back from my Marry Poppin's chalk drawing to receive the warm welcome of my beautiful home and the people that mean the most to me--in my culture. Sometimes the disconnect between my two "realities" or places of heart and residence is very hard to unite or reconcile--understand or grasp simultaneously. I find it difficult to totally live the responsibility of both locations because one always becomes virtual, far away. My material belongings are now split between two, but most of my love and devotion is left at my home. I have lots of interest and passion dedicated to Italy, but my love and friendship is much more shallow here. However, this is not to say that I don't have good friends in Milan-I have interesting acquaintances, and I like the opportunities to meet people in Italy: the European Italian exchange.
Regarding my heart in Italy, I will say that Matteo and I have been growing a fabulous relationship. I am very much in love with him, and every time we have the chance to be together, I realize more and more what a beautiful heart he possesses. I believe that he is very special, and we thoroughly enjoy one another's company. I think one of the things I appreciate most about him is how he treats other people-he is respectful and friendly towards all people without prejudice that is common to Italians. As a boyfriend, he provides me with unfailing friendship and I can say that he has never let me down. To give you an idea, I will describe our weekend just passed:
Last Thursday, on my day off, we went to the Questura-police station-to pick up my "permit to stay" document. This was a big deal for me because receiving official documents in Italy is a grueling and long process. If you actually succeed in systemizing all of your documents officially in plastic, it means that you have been patiently waiting for nearly a year. It was finally my day of reckoning, and he came with me to support me. It was less painful than I thought although the place is really an abismal mess for foreigners--I actually was very lucky because I went straight to the window to ask for information and they took me immediately. In any case, we celebrated my legal residence permit with a breakfast nearby, and I took Matteo to see an art show near the Duomo.
We went to see Steve McCurry, a photojournalist for National Geographic who graduated from Penn State. He is extremely famous for his reportage photography, and the show was absolutely beautiful. I have begun taking Matteo to shows that are based in socio-political or journalistic field--a place where his interests and passions lie--and the medium of photography is also a good platform to start understanding art and the narrative and emotional potentialities of art in general. Basically, he and I both loved the show, and I am thrilled that he is so willing to accompany me and show interest in art shows. He announced with excitement, "tomorrow lets go to the museum of science and industry! I would flip out there like a little kid!" My little nerdy Italian--I love it! Of course, I would totally do that on a Saturday!
Friday night, he came into Milan after work, and we went out for a nice dinner--dressing in our best. We both love food, and he likes teaching me about Italian cuisine. We talked about taking a trip around Italy in a tent, an idea that has planted a lovely seed in our future ideas. Always a good conversation.
On Saturday I fell ill with a flu, and he took care of me the whole day. He made me stay in bed, while he brought me breakfast. He held my head, saying, "Baby Dear, we I'll take care of you and I would want nothing less than to spend today with you. Now you go get in the shower, dry your hair, and snuggle yourself in bed while I prepare everything." He went on to cook me a good pasta meal for lunch, and he cooked minestrone soup for dinner. He wouldn't let me touch any of the dishes, and it was wonderful to have him there with me. We snuggled in my room to watch a fantastic German film, "The Life of Others" (that is one of his favorites and I absolutely LOVED IT), and I felt so happy with him that I completely forgot about my fever.
On Sunday, I was well enough to go to church with him, and afterwards we went to eat brunch at a good restaurant nearby. The brunch is fabulous, and he knows how much I like breakfast. We had a leisurely 2 hour meal. Upon arriving in my apartment, we watched the movie, "Tropic Thunder," in Italian before he left to go back home. It was a lovely weekend despite my sickness.
He is a terrific boyfriend, and I will provide more updates on the love front soon. I cant wait to see him tomorrow after this long week!
His message from tonight sent before bed:
"Ciao Amore, I am coming home-unfortunately talking made us stay out late but its great to joking around with friends you havn't seen for a while. I can't explain how much I miss you "piccola (little one)," maybe it would be better to wait for tomorrow, but I believe that you already know how I feel. You are a fantastic person, I always dreamed of meeting someone like you. I love you intensely, maybe too much to be able to withstand our distance during the week. I send you a kiss with all the affection that I have. Yours, Matteo."
I think he gets more sentimental before bed. Haha.
Okay...hope to write soon: In Italy. Involved. In giro. In love.
As I had been describing in those November days, I was teaching three days a week at my Italian private school in Monza, a city north east of Milan. My first teaching experience came as a sudden opportunity in late September, and I was thrown into a school of energetic and rambunctious Italian kiddies-of the ages 9-14-hormones, curiosity, and self-discovery flying crazily about the air. My experiences thus far have been both challenging, rewarding, and incredibly humorous for several reasons. I still get a kick out of the fact that I am actually considered to be a "prof", giving parent interviews and collaborating in teacher meetings. In fact, I just spent this January week preparing the grades for the first term report card for all of my classes, I gave my first oral interrogation of my high schoolers on Wednesday (a large part of the Italian testing method), and I am currently preparing the curriculum for the high school art history classes that I will teach in March--while trying desperately to organize a class field trip to Ravenna.
Speaking of field trips, I lead my second and third year middle school students on a field trip today to see the Duomo and an art show in Milan. Along with my fellow colleagues, we took them of a tour of the Edward Hopper exhibition at Palazzo Reale near the Duomo, and after a pitstop at Micky D's for lunch, we gave them a tour of the Duomo that ended with our bird's eye experience on the roof. I will expound upon my field trip day in a bit--but for now, I will say that I enjoyed recreational time with my students. They are hilarious, and I find it cute that they all wanted to take pictures of me--their "Prof."
A part from my new Italian teacher phase in life, I had also taken on two mural jobs before Christmas. One commission in the hospital in which I painted my large volunteer project. The other mural was commissioned by my school where the director of the school called me into his office with the 3 principals of the school. I thought that I was in trouble! Instead, they then proposed that I paint a nativity scene for the school. Soon after this interview, I went to buy paints and a piece of wood 3X2 meters in dimension was ordered for me. After presenting them with a sketch of my Nativity idea, I succeeded in realizing my design on the primed wood within two weeks--working about 6 days because I had to paint after my teaching duties were finished. As I donned my painting shirt over my teacher clothes, paintbrush in hand, people in the school started to stop by to see the new activity in Art room 2. My students were enthralled with my painting--complimenting me, asking questions, and playing with my paint. Their eyes lit up when they realized that their teacher was painting the Nativity, and they looked entranced as I worked--even the ones that usually act out and chatter in class turned into puppies as they watched me and offered to change my water, etc. It was a wonderful experience even though I finished every night at 7--still to catch the train home to Milan. However, it was also paid work which also made the hours worth even more besides the genuine respect I was gaining from both my students and my colleagues.
There is one colleague that was very impressed with my painting, and this would be the famous Letizia that I have mentioned in my previous blogs. This is the teacher that was famous for not collaborating in the school-the teacher who has been with the Collegio for the longest period of time, the teacher that wasn't receptive to the idea of having to work with a young American girl who would be inserted as the new art teacher for the "English speaking" program at the school. After the first rocky weeks of working with Letizia, I was clinging onto the hope of winning her over. Despite the difficulties that she presented in our collaboration in the beginning (not wanting to have meetings, etc), I persisted with my plan of attack: Be as nice as possible, as willing as possible, don't push agendas, and show her that you respect her, her position, and above all--her experience. I complimented her alot, lets say--haha! In the end....I have to say that I think that we are now FRIENDS!
I have the feeling now that she trusts me, and my mural project at the school I think won her appreciation of my talent. At this point, I have grown to genuinely like her. She has a quarky and funny personality that I find really endearing, and conversely, I think that she has warmed to me. She now meets me willingly during our planning period, and we try to make time to grab a coffee together. After experience with her in the classroom, I have learned that I respect her and her teaching style--she really has a nice way of explaining the projects to the children, and her advice is appreciated and valued. She also cares a lot for the students, and I admire this aspect in her. So my rather rough welcome has blossomed into a rapport that I only hopes continues to grow closer--maybe even developing the program for the students with both of our heads put together. We'll see!
What else? well, I continued to correct articles for the art magazine, Flashart, and I corrected nearly 40 in the month of November and December, making appearances at their main office several times. However, I havn't heard from them the since my vacation at home, and I am wondering now if I should re-contact them. I really liked reading the articles even though it loaded up my already heavy plate before the holidays. Oh Italians are compicated.
Christmas shopping was another mission that I had before flying back the the United States! My mother asked me to pick up some special Italian gifts for the family in addition to my own Christmas presents--which of course was a wonderful job, but I had to make sure that I did all of my shopping. The absence of a car already makes shopping missions complicated affairs if you have varied present ideas, and to add to the lack of mobility, I will also blatantly state that in Italy no simple shopping mission is easily accomplished without running around in several circles--if not countless, unnecessary, and unbelievably maddening circles-not considering your luck. In any case, I was very proud because I believe that I found really great gifts for everyone in the family--trying to be fair and adhere to everyone's taste and possible desire-with genu-ine Made in Italy trademarks on the tags. Therefore, I came home with one suitcase laden with presents as if i was the Italian Santa Clause or Babbo Natale! I love giving presents, and I was happy this year that I at least had a job to afford some fun Christmas surprises from the Old Country.
I wont recount my airport saga to arrive home for Christmas, but in short, I will say that I will NEVER ever EVER again travel so close to Christmas. I passed a grueling 1.5 days trying to land my little butt back in Pittsburgh--in the arms of everything I know and love for my favorite holiday season. I arrived on Christmas Eve to forget about my sleep exhaustion from the uncomfortable plane, the night sleeping in the JFK airport on top of my bags, eyes open, and the emotional trauma endured. Everything was forgotten, and I was home--Christmas tree glowing, dressed to go to Christmas mass, in the warmth of my Gram's house stuffing my face with delicious food at her round table, conversation flying, and my life in Italy a distant memory.
I hopped back from my Marry Poppin's chalk drawing to receive the warm welcome of my beautiful home and the people that mean the most to me--in my culture. Sometimes the disconnect between my two "realities" or places of heart and residence is very hard to unite or reconcile--understand or grasp simultaneously. I find it difficult to totally live the responsibility of both locations because one always becomes virtual, far away. My material belongings are now split between two, but most of my love and devotion is left at my home. I have lots of interest and passion dedicated to Italy, but my love and friendship is much more shallow here. However, this is not to say that I don't have good friends in Milan-I have interesting acquaintances, and I like the opportunities to meet people in Italy: the European Italian exchange.
Regarding my heart in Italy, I will say that Matteo and I have been growing a fabulous relationship. I am very much in love with him, and every time we have the chance to be together, I realize more and more what a beautiful heart he possesses. I believe that he is very special, and we thoroughly enjoy one another's company. I think one of the things I appreciate most about him is how he treats other people-he is respectful and friendly towards all people without prejudice that is common to Italians. As a boyfriend, he provides me with unfailing friendship and I can say that he has never let me down. To give you an idea, I will describe our weekend just passed:
Last Thursday, on my day off, we went to the Questura-police station-to pick up my "permit to stay" document. This was a big deal for me because receiving official documents in Italy is a grueling and long process. If you actually succeed in systemizing all of your documents officially in plastic, it means that you have been patiently waiting for nearly a year. It was finally my day of reckoning, and he came with me to support me. It was less painful than I thought although the place is really an abismal mess for foreigners--I actually was very lucky because I went straight to the window to ask for information and they took me immediately. In any case, we celebrated my legal residence permit with a breakfast nearby, and I took Matteo to see an art show near the Duomo.
We went to see Steve McCurry, a photojournalist for National Geographic who graduated from Penn State. He is extremely famous for his reportage photography, and the show was absolutely beautiful. I have begun taking Matteo to shows that are based in socio-political or journalistic field--a place where his interests and passions lie--and the medium of photography is also a good platform to start understanding art and the narrative and emotional potentialities of art in general. Basically, he and I both loved the show, and I am thrilled that he is so willing to accompany me and show interest in art shows. He announced with excitement, "tomorrow lets go to the museum of science and industry! I would flip out there like a little kid!" My little nerdy Italian--I love it! Of course, I would totally do that on a Saturday!
Friday night, he came into Milan after work, and we went out for a nice dinner--dressing in our best. We both love food, and he likes teaching me about Italian cuisine. We talked about taking a trip around Italy in a tent, an idea that has planted a lovely seed in our future ideas. Always a good conversation.
On Saturday I fell ill with a flu, and he took care of me the whole day. He made me stay in bed, while he brought me breakfast. He held my head, saying, "Baby Dear, we I'll take care of you and I would want nothing less than to spend today with you. Now you go get in the shower, dry your hair, and snuggle yourself in bed while I prepare everything." He went on to cook me a good pasta meal for lunch, and he cooked minestrone soup for dinner. He wouldn't let me touch any of the dishes, and it was wonderful to have him there with me. We snuggled in my room to watch a fantastic German film, "The Life of Others" (that is one of his favorites and I absolutely LOVED IT), and I felt so happy with him that I completely forgot about my fever.
On Sunday, I was well enough to go to church with him, and afterwards we went to eat brunch at a good restaurant nearby. The brunch is fabulous, and he knows how much I like breakfast. We had a leisurely 2 hour meal. Upon arriving in my apartment, we watched the movie, "Tropic Thunder," in Italian before he left to go back home. It was a lovely weekend despite my sickness.
He is a terrific boyfriend, and I will provide more updates on the love front soon. I cant wait to see him tomorrow after this long week!
His message from tonight sent before bed:
"Ciao Amore, I am coming home-unfortunately talking made us stay out late but its great to joking around with friends you havn't seen for a while. I can't explain how much I miss you "piccola (little one)," maybe it would be better to wait for tomorrow, but I believe that you already know how I feel. You are a fantastic person, I always dreamed of meeting someone like you. I love you intensely, maybe too much to be able to withstand our distance during the week. I send you a kiss with all the affection that I have. Yours, Matteo."
I think he gets more sentimental before bed. Haha.
Okay...hope to write soon: In Italy. Involved. In giro. In love.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Unplanned Happenings
Sometimes I think that it is amazing how we find ourselves in unexpected places in life, and that there is very little that we can truly foresee and plan. I chuckled to myself tonight as I was ragu sauce in my yellow kitchen how funny life is--I could never have imagined even a year ago that I would find myself working as a teacher in an Italian school, attending teacher and parent meetings in Italian. I could not have foreseen working as a copy editor for an art magazine. I could not have foreseen finding such a cute apartment with two very lovely and interesting roommates and a kitchen at my disposal to make my Italian experimental recipes. I really could not have foreseen falling in love with someone in this country--meeting him, in all places, on a train.
In fact, the day that I met Matteo on the train, I wrote a poem as he got off the train as I continued on to Milan. Our encounter had obviously intrigued me enough to write about it.
I debated taking the train
wanting to stay in Genova city
but what does 1 hour serve
with my heavy baggage burden?
Drinking a cafe
watching the beautiful day pass by
outside of the train station doors.
Enough daydreaming, catch the train!
The wrong train, the wrong ticket
Returning to the city, hot and tired
Scanning the train
with disinterest and fatigue.
Then I see you.
Stop.
In front of me,
Behind the dirty window,
Reading a book.
Decision made-easily.
I have no shame to sit close.
You start the conversation.
Yet unaware that I'm foreign.
Italian boy meets American girl.
Journalist meets traveling artist.
Lovely exchange of ideas.
You want to learn English.
I can't stare directly
into your orange eyes.
You give me your number.
I will call.
Intrigue on the train this day.
There is my silly "poem" that I wrote after Matteo got off the train.
In any case, I guess I can admit that I really care about Matteo, and I might be falling in love with him.
It is too late to continue writing, but tomorrow I will write about my school week and another great weekend spent with Matteo.
In fact, the day that I met Matteo on the train, I wrote a poem as he got off the train as I continued on to Milan. Our encounter had obviously intrigued me enough to write about it.
I debated taking the train
wanting to stay in Genova city
but what does 1 hour serve
with my heavy baggage burden?
Drinking a cafe
watching the beautiful day pass by
outside of the train station doors.
Enough daydreaming, catch the train!
The wrong train, the wrong ticket
Returning to the city, hot and tired
Scanning the train
with disinterest and fatigue.
Then I see you.
Stop.
In front of me,
Behind the dirty window,
Reading a book.
Decision made-easily.
I have no shame to sit close.
You start the conversation.
Yet unaware that I'm foreign.
Italian boy meets American girl.
Journalist meets traveling artist.
Lovely exchange of ideas.
You want to learn English.
I can't stare directly
into your orange eyes.
You give me your number.
I will call.
Intrigue on the train this day.
There is my silly "poem" that I wrote after Matteo got off the train.
In any case, I guess I can admit that I really care about Matteo, and I might be falling in love with him.
It is too late to continue writing, but tomorrow I will write about my school week and another great weekend spent with Matteo.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Happy Halloween
Ahh, I am totally a home body tonight. It is raining outside, and I just took a long shower and made tea. I am debating watching a movie, but it depends on how tired I feel after I'm finished writing.
Today as a whole was boring and frustrating, so I am going to skip talking about it.
Instead I will say that it was a short and sweet week of teaching. I feel as though I am making improvements with how I handle the classes and lessons. I felt like my two lessons on Egyptian art went really well this week, and the students seem decently interested in what I'm teaching. I took them to the computer lab to see my powerpoint because I included a lot of interactive videos and links from the internet. I wish that I had more time to question them and "waste time" during class, but by the time we change classrooms, we pray, I do role call, and they settle down, I only have about 35 minutes of their attention.
My favorite classes by far are my first year middle school students. They are precious, and I can't think of one student that really misbehaves; they are so eager and conscientious! They have such little personalities, and I love looking at them concentrated in their drawings; they are all just so darn cute! Davide is a doll--he has freckles and he speaks with a cockney British accent. "I knooow whaaat to doooo!," he says. I also think its cute when they make mistakes in English. In fact, after our class, it is weird hearing them speaking Italian a million miles a minute.
My one class, 1B, is hilarious. It is all girls and 2 boys. They all crack me up constantly, and it is definitely the class with the biggest personality. Sophie and Giulia sing constantly, and I make them sing in English. They then begin singing the Jonas Brothers. haha. Silvia is the actress of the class, and her personality explodes out of her tiny body--dramatic with a faked attitude: "Ooooooooook-AAAAYYYYY PROF!"--said emphatically. Cheyenne is quiet and sweet as can be, and she works like a crazy woman on her drawings--even carelessly; I usually have to slow her down so she doesn't make mistakes. Andrea is the cutest doll baby ever, and he brings drawings that he does at home to show me; he is proud but waits with anticipation to see my reaction. He is quiet and does his work with precision, but he also cranks out sarcastic jokes aimed at the dominating female force in the class. Luca, his quiet and somewhat spacey partner was absent this week. Daniela is another character, and she is completely different from her older sister who is extremely timid in my other class. She "LOOOOOVES" my name! haha. Very funny, I enjoy my time with them. More on my little studenti another day. You almost wish you could freeze them at that age--before they realize that they can be bad or rowdy confused teens.
Matteo just called me and ended our conversation in English saying, "Dear, I love you much." Sigh...haha, how cute. I had to correct him in he end, but in all honesty he at least wants to learn. I am starting to like him more and more as our relationship grows. He is a very good person, and he is incredibly genuine and sincere. I love when he smiles at me or when I make him laugh--there is a sparkle in his eyes that makes me happy because its real. Sometimes he smiles and catches my eyes and turns serious because he stops to think, and he follows by saying that he cares about me.
We spent practically the whole weekend together. Saturday he came to Milan, and I was out shopping for Halloween costumes with my friend, Israq. He joined us, and I made him buy something to act as a costume. In the end, he bought a top hat, and I made him by sunglasses with the american flag across the face. In the end, I went as a school teacher, and he went as an American boy...haha. We three went to dinner, and I ate a meal that was incredible--It was one of my fav. types of pasta, fusilli, with marinara sauce, roasted eggplant puree, and a fattening, sweet, and heavenly cheese on top. I am literally eating my way through Italy and loving every single morsel of food. Later on, we all went out to a discoteca to dance---and we DANCED! It was wonderful, and I had such a wonderful time just having fun and letting loose. I also met Matteo's best friend, and he was very nice--we hit it off.
The next day, I ended up going on a trip with Matteo after I finished correcting 10 pages of an article for Flashart, the art magazine. He took me on a tour of his city and of the surrounding area, and we found ourselves walking under an awning of gold fall leaves in a park near his house. Also in the local itinerary was a restaurant famed for making incredible paninis-your top top quality of the Italian sandwich. He wasn't joking--It was incredible. Fresh bread, Coppa (Salame that puts hair on your chest) sliced to perfection, a cheese (I forget), and rocket. I almost passed out because I was surprised at how good it actually was. Matteo was pleased that I liked it. After we were done, he couldn't help dragging me into a bakery to have me try, their "Pizzette" or "small pizzas." He knows how much I love food, especially trying new things, and so he gets pleasure out of having me try what he likes best. He says that I am "golosissima"--it basically means that I love food. Eating is an art!!
The city is very very small, in the middle of an expansive flat valley, and everyone seems to know everyone. It was funny seeing Matteo wave to nearly ever car that passed. It was refreshing to see him in his well-known ambient, natural and at ease, driving his familiar roads; it even gave me a sentiment of nostalgia thinking of driving the winding roads leading to my house, past all of my familiarities. We ended up at Matteo's sister's house, and I met his sister, brother-in-law and 8-month old nephew. They are very nice, and his nephew is adorable! Matteo and I played with his nephew, and he is so cute when he holds Mattia. Later on, we went to eat a pizza with his parents at Matteo's favorite pizza joint near his house, and it was cute seeing him ask his mom for her crust. His friend owns the pizzeria, and I felt as if I was being spied by almost everyone working in the restaurant-like they were waiting to see Matteo's new American girlfriend...ha, here I am!
It was slightly intimidating because i am not used to being in a relationship, but I am trying not to flip out. It gets even more interesting: due to the intense fog in his area, he asked me if i would mind staying over for the night...btw, i had Monday off of work. I really didn't want to because i didn't bring anything-clothes,makeup, nothing-, but this improvised pit-stop was unplanned and ended up being very very nice. His grandparents also live at his house, and it was nice meeting them and seeing Matteo interact with his family.
The next day we ate lunch with the family, and we drove back to Milan. He helped me later to go pick up a closet to add to my room furniture. I found a man giving away his closet online for free, and we went to pick it up from a really nice guy named, Mattia. Matteo and Mattia did most of the moving, and later on, Matteo carried mostly everything into my apartment, reassembling it all for me to use. He was so cute sweating over putting the pieces back together in his glasses, and he was very methodical (as opposed to my impatience) When he was finished, he said:"Dear, you are nearly all set up! My dear needed a closet!" It was so sweet of him to go through all of that trouble for me, and he already started talking about when we could go to IKEA to add the finishing touches to make my "bedroom" more functional-haha. We shared a lovely dinner after the "move" at the restaurant next door. I had a delicious pasta al ragu.
He has already told me that he is in love with me, but I havn't told him whether or not I am feeling this sentiment. However, at one point, he grabbed the back of my head--pulled me close--and said, "Dear, I am in love with you, and I don't care if you don't say it because I know you do." Hmmmmm.
He left, and I was sad to see him go.
Last night was my roommates birthday party...stories can wait for tomorrow. Goodnight.
Today as a whole was boring and frustrating, so I am going to skip talking about it.
Instead I will say that it was a short and sweet week of teaching. I feel as though I am making improvements with how I handle the classes and lessons. I felt like my two lessons on Egyptian art went really well this week, and the students seem decently interested in what I'm teaching. I took them to the computer lab to see my powerpoint because I included a lot of interactive videos and links from the internet. I wish that I had more time to question them and "waste time" during class, but by the time we change classrooms, we pray, I do role call, and they settle down, I only have about 35 minutes of their attention.
My favorite classes by far are my first year middle school students. They are precious, and I can't think of one student that really misbehaves; they are so eager and conscientious! They have such little personalities, and I love looking at them concentrated in their drawings; they are all just so darn cute! Davide is a doll--he has freckles and he speaks with a cockney British accent. "I knooow whaaat to doooo!," he says. I also think its cute when they make mistakes in English. In fact, after our class, it is weird hearing them speaking Italian a million miles a minute.
My one class, 1B, is hilarious. It is all girls and 2 boys. They all crack me up constantly, and it is definitely the class with the biggest personality. Sophie and Giulia sing constantly, and I make them sing in English. They then begin singing the Jonas Brothers. haha. Silvia is the actress of the class, and her personality explodes out of her tiny body--dramatic with a faked attitude: "Ooooooooook-AAAAYYYYY PROF!"--said emphatically. Cheyenne is quiet and sweet as can be, and she works like a crazy woman on her drawings--even carelessly; I usually have to slow her down so she doesn't make mistakes. Andrea is the cutest doll baby ever, and he brings drawings that he does at home to show me; he is proud but waits with anticipation to see my reaction. He is quiet and does his work with precision, but he also cranks out sarcastic jokes aimed at the dominating female force in the class. Luca, his quiet and somewhat spacey partner was absent this week. Daniela is another character, and she is completely different from her older sister who is extremely timid in my other class. She "LOOOOOVES" my name! haha. Very funny, I enjoy my time with them. More on my little studenti another day. You almost wish you could freeze them at that age--before they realize that they can be bad or rowdy confused teens.
Matteo just called me and ended our conversation in English saying, "Dear, I love you much." Sigh...haha, how cute. I had to correct him in he end, but in all honesty he at least wants to learn. I am starting to like him more and more as our relationship grows. He is a very good person, and he is incredibly genuine and sincere. I love when he smiles at me or when I make him laugh--there is a sparkle in his eyes that makes me happy because its real. Sometimes he smiles and catches my eyes and turns serious because he stops to think, and he follows by saying that he cares about me.
We spent practically the whole weekend together. Saturday he came to Milan, and I was out shopping for Halloween costumes with my friend, Israq. He joined us, and I made him buy something to act as a costume. In the end, he bought a top hat, and I made him by sunglasses with the american flag across the face. In the end, I went as a school teacher, and he went as an American boy...haha. We three went to dinner, and I ate a meal that was incredible--It was one of my fav. types of pasta, fusilli, with marinara sauce, roasted eggplant puree, and a fattening, sweet, and heavenly cheese on top. I am literally eating my way through Italy and loving every single morsel of food. Later on, we all went out to a discoteca to dance---and we DANCED! It was wonderful, and I had such a wonderful time just having fun and letting loose. I also met Matteo's best friend, and he was very nice--we hit it off.
The next day, I ended up going on a trip with Matteo after I finished correcting 10 pages of an article for Flashart, the art magazine. He took me on a tour of his city and of the surrounding area, and we found ourselves walking under an awning of gold fall leaves in a park near his house. Also in the local itinerary was a restaurant famed for making incredible paninis-your top top quality of the Italian sandwich. He wasn't joking--It was incredible. Fresh bread, Coppa (Salame that puts hair on your chest) sliced to perfection, a cheese (I forget), and rocket. I almost passed out because I was surprised at how good it actually was. Matteo was pleased that I liked it. After we were done, he couldn't help dragging me into a bakery to have me try, their "Pizzette" or "small pizzas." He knows how much I love food, especially trying new things, and so he gets pleasure out of having me try what he likes best. He says that I am "golosissima"--it basically means that I love food. Eating is an art!!
The city is very very small, in the middle of an expansive flat valley, and everyone seems to know everyone. It was funny seeing Matteo wave to nearly ever car that passed. It was refreshing to see him in his well-known ambient, natural and at ease, driving his familiar roads; it even gave me a sentiment of nostalgia thinking of driving the winding roads leading to my house, past all of my familiarities. We ended up at Matteo's sister's house, and I met his sister, brother-in-law and 8-month old nephew. They are very nice, and his nephew is adorable! Matteo and I played with his nephew, and he is so cute when he holds Mattia. Later on, we went to eat a pizza with his parents at Matteo's favorite pizza joint near his house, and it was cute seeing him ask his mom for her crust. His friend owns the pizzeria, and I felt as if I was being spied by almost everyone working in the restaurant-like they were waiting to see Matteo's new American girlfriend...ha, here I am!
It was slightly intimidating because i am not used to being in a relationship, but I am trying not to flip out. It gets even more interesting: due to the intense fog in his area, he asked me if i would mind staying over for the night...btw, i had Monday off of work. I really didn't want to because i didn't bring anything-clothes,makeup, nothing-, but this improvised pit-stop was unplanned and ended up being very very nice. His grandparents also live at his house, and it was nice meeting them and seeing Matteo interact with his family.
The next day we ate lunch with the family, and we drove back to Milan. He helped me later to go pick up a closet to add to my room furniture. I found a man giving away his closet online for free, and we went to pick it up from a really nice guy named, Mattia. Matteo and Mattia did most of the moving, and later on, Matteo carried mostly everything into my apartment, reassembling it all for me to use. He was so cute sweating over putting the pieces back together in his glasses, and he was very methodical (as opposed to my impatience) When he was finished, he said:"Dear, you are nearly all set up! My dear needed a closet!" It was so sweet of him to go through all of that trouble for me, and he already started talking about when we could go to IKEA to add the finishing touches to make my "bedroom" more functional-haha. We shared a lovely dinner after the "move" at the restaurant next door. I had a delicious pasta al ragu.
He has already told me that he is in love with me, but I havn't told him whether or not I am feeling this sentiment. However, at one point, he grabbed the back of my head--pulled me close--and said, "Dear, I am in love with you, and I don't care if you don't say it because I know you do." Hmmmmm.
He left, and I was sad to see him go.
Last night was my roommates birthday party...stories can wait for tomorrow. Goodnight.
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