This past weekend, I went with one of my best friends to Paris. It was everything I dreamed it would be and more.  Knowing the French language a lot better than Italian, I was excited to talk to people, more than just the simple, “How much does this cost?” or “Hello/Thank You.”  Being one of my last weekends in Europe , I could not wait to experience a different culture and embrace it to the fullest extent.

            Even though we only had one day there, we made the best of it.  We went to the top of the Eiffel Tower and saw a breathtaking view.  I was amazed at how beautiful the city was and had to constantly pinch myself in order to realize where I was standing.  I did, in fact, get to speak in French and actually have a conversation in another language, which was something I have been waiting for the entire semester.

Being obsessed with the arts, my friend and I knew we had no choice but to make time to explore The Louvre Museum.  I was excited to see works of art done by people other than Italians, since I have seen a great deal while studying here.  However, the pieces that I felt were the most inspiring were those done by the same Italian artists I have studied.  When I saw Michelangelo’s slave sculptures, I could not bring myself to walk away.  His work is absolutely awe-inspiring, much like a lot of the Italian artists’ work there.  Leonardo Da Vinci’s, “Mona Lisa,” truly does look at you from every angle.  I always wondered what was so special about the painting, and now I know for certain the reason for its popularity.  If you look at it closely, her face forms a smile.  It was as if she acknowledges the spectators presence, while trying to sit still for her portrait.  I have never been so moved by a single painting in all of my life, and I will never forget the feeling it gave me.  The Italians truly take over the museum and their imagination puts their work on a level far above the rest.

On the plane ride back to Florence , I was not sad to leave, as I had thought I would be.  It was an amazingly beautiful place, filled with everything I could have asked for.  But now, it seems only a nice place to visit, not a place I can see myself calling home.  I feel that I am apart of Florence , not just a passerby.  With only one week left, I intend to take every moment I can to appreciate all that it represents and remember how much it means to me.  I will miss it dearly but it brings me comfort to know that I will be back again someday very soon. 

I have just returned from a weekend in Rome , and all I can say is: Move over Florence , move over Assisi , I have a new favorite place in !

All of my friends here went to Rome when the weather was warmer. Being one of the last people to take advantage of the all school field trip (this was the last of four trips), I was convinced that I would have a miserable time, not knowing anyone, rooming with strangers, etc- but I quickly realized Rome is a city where you can walk around all by yourself and feel completely content (okay, I didn’t walk around by myself- but I totally could have!).

Rome is like no other place I have ever been to. The food was amazing, as was the art, and though the nightlife has nothing on Florence I still had a great time. Walking through the Coliseum and the Roman Forum and the Pantheon was so incredible it was almost overwhelming. I can’t believe I stood where Julius Ceaser’s pyre was (well at least somewhere in the general area)! I stood inside the Sistine Chapel! I walked down the same staircase in St. Peter’s Basicilica that I saw on TV as the last Pope’s coffin was carried down for burial. To think of all the things that took place in that glorious city, that the Coliseum could still be standing after so many years- it almost makes me sad that America doesn’t have that type of history yet.

I wouldn’t choose Rome over Florence as the city to study in, nor would I choose Rome over New York as the city to live in- but there are some things, some places in life that you absolutely must experience, and Rome is certainly one such place.

our eyes translate the light waves

I curl up into the train
and peek out the small opening in the linen
                that was handed to me in a well folded stack by the attendant lacking an official shirt
at the things that pass by at a constant pace
the contact of the wheels on the tracks
creates a rhythmic noise that will lull me to sleep soon
                along with the other passengers in the car
the sun is starting to be obscured by the hills
that are slowly rotating to take the light away from my ever moving location
                if only I was traveling west, then perhaps I could outrun the hills rotation
and as the sun is removed from the sky
the objects it gave shape and meaning to
become less and less obvious
                some loosing all meaning as they fade away
                or are left behind in the mass of unimportance
the constant sound of movement is doing its aforementioned job
my eyes slowly close
and take up a purpose much like that of the hills
which is to remove the notion of things
as I am carried into sleep
by the ever moving train
that continues to carry me east as I slumber
under, now unfolded, linens that were graciously handed to me
                by the attendant without an official shirt

the night is long on the railroad tracks
but I non the less wake in the morning
to find my cabin empty, devoid of the other sleepers it once contained
                no doubt left at other locations along the path we took in the night
                or forgotten in the obscurity the sun left in its parting the night before
the hills rotation has brought the sun back into the sky
yet the things that faded out of importance
have been effected by the suns absence
for being unimportant for so long, has left a chill on them
                a thin layer of ice
                that sheaths the ground, vegetation and occasional settlement we pass on our journey eastward
this frost of meaninglessness
is slowly thawing
as the now risen sun
instills meaning to things once again

I have risen as well
to look out the window
                as the linens had obscured too much
                and I thought I would do as the sun and not leave anything without meaning
                                and of course, while rising
                                I had attempted, without success
                                to fold the linens
                                that were given to me so neatly folded
and enjoy the view
as we approach our destination
                we being myself and the unofficially dressed attendant
and end our trip