Ekphrasis 2

Her large wreath, 

Delicately crafted,

centered,

Rests firmly on her head. 

Her curls bound tightly,

Brushed back, 

Tied in a bun

So that her face is exposed,

To the warm sun. 

She gazes out,

Through her almond-shaped eyes.

Her lips as thin as rose petals, 

Are closed shut. 

Stretching her long body on the bed, 

She fills the space,

She takes pride in her appearance. 

Long legs,

Perky breasts, 

Nipples protruding.

Soft skin, 

Full hips,

Round thighs,

The look of vanity, 

on her face

Can be seen from far and wide. 

The weight of her head,

Rests on her right arm 

So that she can support herself. 

A pearl bracelet, 

Hangs from her thin wrists, 

It is her favorite accessory.

Two satin pillows, 

Rest behind her,

Plump but small,

Stacked one on top of the other,

Touch her porcelain-like skin. 

Her other hand, 

Holds a small red apple. 

She amuses herself. 

She hasn’t decided yet, 

If it is time to eat, 

The sweet delicacy. 

So she continues, 

To rest it in the palm of her hand.

The silky cloth, 

Covers her fleshy legs. 

The cloth intangles her body,

Hugging her tightly. 

The edges of the cloth, 

Clutching the mattress of the bed. 

The extravagant structure, 

That she rests on,

Proudly holds her body, 

Supporting her beautiful frame. 

The bed, 

Is adorned in gold details, 

Gold flowers, 

Gold drapes, 

And gold feet. 

In her private chambers, 

It is only fitting,

For a woman so beautiful, 

To be reclining on such a magnificent bed. 

(Paolina Borghese, Antonio Canova 06.05.2019).

Giornale 1

    The sun slowly started to set. The humid air hung to us as we ran towards the metro station. I was determined to start my Giornale early so that I would not be scrambling to finish all three of them at the end of the trip. For my first Giornale, Hannah, Emily and I went to Santa Maria in Trastevere. I recognized the area since I had passed the church a few times while walking through the Piazza di Santa Maria, but I had never noticed the church in the corner of the Piazza. 
The first thing I noticed when I gazed up at the façade of the church was that the first floor was made of marble but it was a very simple exterior. The only decorations were the ionic columns on the first floor while on the second floor, it was decorated with mosaics and beautiful images of palm trees that adorned the outside of the building.   
  As I stood in the atrium of the church, I remembered how Professor Curley had told the class that Santa Maria in Trastevere was known for its beautiful mosaics. In preparation for entering the church, I covered my shoulders in a sweater and prayed that no one would notice how short my skirt was since I had forgotten to pack pants in my bag. 
    As I entered, my eyes had to adjust to the dimly lit space. There were people sitting on benches in the back and someone sang in Latin but I couldn’t tell where the song was coming from.  My first instinct was to look up to the ceiling. The symmetrical designs adorned in gold caught my attention. Growing up in a family that attended church consistently for most of my childhood, I never remember seeing ceilings that looked so magnificent and geometrical. There was always a focus on decorating the apse of churches I attended but never the ceiling. I also appreciated that while the ceilings were intricately designed in Santa Maria in Trastevere, the floors and walls were simple. The floor had basic geometric shapes like circles that I would later learn were called Cosmati floors.  
    The mosaics in the church were magnificent and adorned the interior. This was my first time in a church that had mosaics, and while I was not able to identify many of the figures in the apse, I did identify Mary and the apostles depicted as sheep. 
    What I liked about this church was that it was a balance of being exquisite yet simple. St. Peter’s Basilica was gorgeous but for me, it could be an extremely intimidating space.  While the churches I attended as a child were simple which made them extremely welcoming but the spaces did not feel very special. Santa Maria Maggiore did a good job of having simple and elaborate features. I wasn’t able to stay for a long time because I was worried about the length of my skirt but I did really enjoy the space while I was able to walk around. While many churches that I visited looked the same to me by the end of our trip in Rome, I am happy I visited Santa Maria in Trastevere because I feel like it really differentiated itself from others that I had seen through its mosaics, ceiling, and balance of being welcoming while also being intimidating.
( Santa Maria in Trastevere 05/24/2019)

Giornale 3

   I was the first person to step into the cold water of the lake. The goosebumps that covered my body were probably visible to everyone passing by but I kept slowly creeping further into the water. Most of the locals were wearing large coats, pants, and socks but I plunged into the crisp water with no hesitation. I had never been inside a volcanic crater lake before in my life. The black sand was soft with silt floating in the water which looked like flakes of crystal. Since I was the first person in the water, I was able to focus on the beauty of the lake without being distracted by my peers. The sun stopped hiding behind the clouds so that the tops of the mountains that surrounded the lake glistened. The clear water shimmered in the sunlight. I didn't’ stay in the water for a long time but I remember thinking to myself how lucky I am to be at the lake. I felt at peace with myself and the earth.

   A few hours before, I had felt the exact opposite feeling because of public transportation.I was sprinting through Termini with the hope of catching the train to the lake. As I ran through the crowded train station, I clutched my backpack in front of me and kept running even though my lungs were begging me to stop. Frances had said that the train to Lake Albano was leaving in 10 minutes but we still needed to buy our tickets once we arrived at the station. Sadly, after waiting in a ticket line, we missed the first train but caught the second one needed towards the lake. On the train, Hannah, Peter, Frances and I ate our McDonalds as we passed rustic Italian towns and farms.

   I awoke to Frances nudging me to warn me that we had arrived. I could feel the excitement in her voice. She had never been to this lake before but she seemed hopeful that we would find a space to swim. The town on the right was beautiful, on top of the hill, we could see the rooftops of restaurants and shops almost hidden behind overgrown trees and bushes. Frances also pointed out that we could see the roof of the Papal Palace of Castel Gandolfo.

To find the lake, we followed a group of obnoxious Italian teenagers blastic music down the hill. However, we took out time, admiring the walk down that was very steep and overgrown with plants. When we arrived at the lake, it was more beautiful than I had originally anticipated because of the clear water, dark sands, and lushes vegetation.

When I signed up for this seminar, I wasn’t aware of how living in a city for two weeks would be difficult for me. I grew up spending many of my weekends and holidays with my family in New York City but I never realized until this trip how important is it for me to have nature. Looking out at the lake by myself, it was refreshing to see trees and mountains without being blocked by buildings and monuments. I contemplated what was important to me as I looked out onto the still water before being splashed by Frances.

Voyeur

“While I get the rest of the blankets, make sure Cherry doesn’t eat that garbage over there and all the dogs need water.  It’s too hot right now from them not to have any water!” said Mary. While Mary made the last trip to the car, Tom, her partner of eight years and their four dogs lay under a stout palm tree. The couple had decided to pack their bags and head to Rome for the day with their dogs. They left EUR early that morning after packing their car with snacks for the dogs, their tapestries and blankets for the day.

Tom and Mary had decided to take a picnic break at Piazza Cavour. The busy Piazza was bustling with people who were also enjoying the sunny weather. Mary pointed a palm tree which was a bit smaller than the others in the Piazza and exclaimed to Tom who was behind her, carrying some of their things that she had found the perfect spot to picnic.

After settling most of their belongings, Tom opened the big black backpack to his left to get the bowls and Poland Springs water bottle for the dogs. Cherry, Mary’s brown pitbull panted in the shade. Coco, Jewel, and Mimi had placed themselves to the left of Tom. The three chihuahuas which Mary liked to call the triplets had been Tom’s gift to her.

Mary and Tom had been together for eight years. Cherry had been Mary’s first dogs after she had graduated from college. Mary met Tom at her office at a Christmas party the firm hosted every year and they started dating soon afterward. Six years later, Mary had had four miscarriages and was told that she could not have children by her doctor. Tom had helped her through her depression, making sure to find a therapist and giving her time to grieve in the months that followed. The triplets were the gift that Tom had given Mary six months after she had talked to her doctor.  As Mary made her trip back to her car, she looked back to see her family behind her all laying underneath the palm tree.

Momentary Blindness 2

        A single raindrop fell onto my right hand. I felt the cold droplet hit my tan skin. It surprised me. Another raindrop followed, hitting my forehead this time. Since it had just rained that morning, these raindrops were the ones that lingered on the tree above me. They refused to fall until that very moment.    
      The raindrops kept falling until my page felt wet when I ran my hand over the grainy pages of my journal. Every time one would fall, I heard the crisp paper being attacked by the small but powerful water. The impact of the raindrops made a sound as if to warn me of its presence. 
     With my pages now wet, I turned my attention to the birds, which could be heard loud and clear as if an orchestra of birds had assembled that morning. Chirps coming from all different directions. The birds moving above me, flying through the air, their song fading in and out. At times the noise grew hectic, it seemed to me as if there was no order to their chirps. I couldn’t see the birds, but I imagined them hoping on branches and gliding easily through the humid air. 
     The air was thick but warmer than it had been when we left Prati. I prefer it when the air is warmer even if that means that I’ll be too warm with all my layers of clothing. I also noticed that this space smelled like nothing. Usually, the streets of Rome smell like something whether it be the aroma of flowers, cigarettes being smoked by Europeans, food from the restaurants or from garbage piling on the street but this space smelled like nothing. It was the lack of flower, cigarette, and food smells that truly amazed me.

Giornale 2

My second excursion was very different than my first because in no way was it planned beforehand. After leaving the Roman Forum, Hannah and I wandered around Rome. I have learned through this travel seminar that I have a terrible sense of direction, and that without Hannah, I would be lost in the city most of the time. As we passed the gelato shops and vendors on the street, I looked up and thought I saw the Spanish Steps. As we approached the steps, I was extremely confused because we were approaching steps but my eyes had deceived me from afar. We were actually walking up the steps of the Piazza del Quirinale. While it was an accident to walk up the hill, we both decided to do our second giornale since we had the afternoon free to enjoy the exhibit at the Scuderie del Quirinale.

Hannah and I purchased our ticket, checked our bags and proceeded to walk upstairs to the Leonardo da Vinci exhibit that the museum has at the moment. I learned about Leonardo da Vinci as a child in history and art classes, so I was expecting to see his artwork however I was surprised not to find any of his paintings on the walls. Walking through the exhibit, I was guided through the drawings, models, and manuscripts that da Vinci either invented or inspired others to invent. The exhibit explores major topics that persisted during the renaissance like war innovations and what the design of an ideal city should look like.      

Two of my favorite pieces in the museum were on the second floor. Stored on the second floor is Leonardo da Vinci’s personal book collection. Each book is displayed in a glass case but it was amazing to see the only book with his handwritten notes. After moving further into the room, I spotted what looked like a wooden bird hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room. The structure had a circular wooden center and thin bat-shaped wings. It was the flying machine in which da Vinci used the anatomy of birds to help engineer the structure. He designed the device so that a man could “fly” by compressing it with quick movements. What amazed me was that most of da Vinci’s sketches have inspired inventions that are used today however this is one invention that still is left to be developed further. I feel like the longing to fly has always been around, and it is possible that one day, his sketches and ideas could be used to inspire others to invent a perfected flying machine.

While this excursion was unplanned and it was not exactly what I had anticipated, I am glad I had the experience to see da Vinci’s work and learn more about his life. The Scuderie del Quirinale is a beautiful space, and it has a staircase in the back with large glass windows to see a stunning view of the city. While I reflected on my time at the museum, what amazed me about some of his work was that many of the ideas he had were not fully developed, and that actually inspired other inventors and architects.

Ekphrasis 1

He radiates confidence,

Naked,

His body exposed,

To the elements of the forest.

Barefoot the young satyr stands,

His round toes,

Against the flattened earth.

This satyr has stopped,

Halting to rest,

Against the remnants of a tree.

He leans against the thin stump.

Its branches,

Long gone,

Broken,

Leaving only the base.

His smooth skin glistens in the sun.

The light hits his body,

Muscles chiseled,

Allowing the definition in his stomach,

To be seen from afar.

Hair slicked back,

It lightly brushes against his back,

Showing his delicate features,

Thin lips and almond-shaped eyes,

An oval face.

Long ears almost concealed,

Pointed at the tip.

Beautiful is his face,

Youthful and mischievous,

His thoughts wander.

Cradling the fruit,

He holds in his arms,

Swindled in a cloth.

Grapes and apples,

The fruit so heavy that it drops,

Almost falling onto the ground.

As he stretches his right hand,

Towards the open sky,

His stiff arm,

Hangs in the air.

He stares in awe,

He tilts his head,

To admire the imperfect fruit.

He grips the apple,

The soft skin of it,

Held between his hands.

The sweet juice,

Concealed within the round tender skin.

He takes pleasure,

In staring at the sweet beauty,

His eyes,

In a trance,

As if seduced,

About to be overcome with joy.

(05/26/2019, Giovane Satiro, Il sec dc da originale del tardo ellenismo, collez. albani)