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)

Piazza San Pietro

Greta closed her eyes underneath her sunglasses and took a deep breath. Her daughters behind her played on their phones and her new husband was distracted by the camera he had bought for the trip. The girls insisted on taking a break after having seen St. Peter's Basilica and walking up the dome. This was Greta’s first time on vacation after her remarriage with Christian and she had decided to bring her two girls. Her oldest daughter, Mary, seemed excited by the idea of visiting Italy for three weeks before starting her internship in Berlin. As a junior studying history, Mary had wanted to visit Rome and Florence however Catherine, the youngest wanted to stay back in Germany with her father and friends. Greta and Mary had to force Catherine to come instead of having her stay in the countryside of Germany.

After arriving in Italy, the family had settled on staying in Prati. For the first time in years, Greta had left the trip to be planned by Christian who adored traveling. He was the person who purchased the tickets, found the AirBnB, and scheduled the itinerary according to the places that Greta and Mary wanted to visit.

As Greta, pushed her short curly hair into a hair tie, she noticed how busy the Vatican was becoming as the day progressed. She had pushed her family out of the apartment early in the morning so that they could arrive before the rush of tourists. Her father was the one to teach her to arrive early. Greta’s father, a devout Christian, was the first person to bring her to Italy before his sudden death a few weeks after the vacation to Rome. Sitting on the steps of the portico, looking to see the Vatican Obelisk in front of her and moving her eyes to watch people entering St. Peter's Basilica all reminded her of her father. This was one of the only places she remembered visiting with him as a child. He had taken Greta into St. Peter’s Basilica, he held her on his back as they listened to the priests singing during mass. Greta, having not gone to church in years since her father’s death, said a prayer for him as she closed her eyes again.

(Piazza San Pietro 05/24/2019)

Piazza Navona

     My tired eyes close easily, leaving me in the dark, so that I can tune into the sounds of the busy Piazza Navona. I know I am not in Saratoga Springs anymore because I can hear the sounds of a city. Rome, like most cities, is bustling and alive with movement. Compared to the first time I did the Momentary Blindness exercise, I am surrounded by people from around the world instead of inside my office space listening to Skidmore employees. My body melts onto the street curb, the cold pavement surprisingly is more comfortable than I expected. My white, creamy cardigan protects me from the cold breeze that hits my back. The sun, when not hidden behind the thick clouds, is able to warm my back however the chilly wind continues to attack my bare ankles. 
     Within the Piazza, I am sitting on a street curb facing Sant'Agnese in Agone. The water from the Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi is the first sound I hear from behind me. The water, dripping off the sculptures hits the basin of the fountain with such force that I feel like I am standing near a waterfall. Milling around the Piazza Navona are people, with the hum of voices concentrated in front of the fountain but also spread out around the Piazza. After only listening for a few minutes, I hear Italian men talking, an American family strolling by and a French couple taking a walk. Everyone has their own agenda, some people moving through the space with their voices disappearing quickly, while others can be heard lingering in the Piazza. The lyrics of Frank Sinatra’s, “I Love You Baby ” is being sung behind me by a man with a heavy yet smooth Italian accent.
    His voice fades quickly as I hear the sound of traffic. From outside the Piazza, impatient drivers in their cars can be heard with their engines speeding up, getting faster just to fade into the distance until the sound of the engine disappears. People are walking on foot, but I also hear tire wheels of bicycles gliding against the cobblestone. A stroller makes its way across the street in front of me however the heavy wheels loudly clank across the uneven cobblestone.  A baby’s piercing cry interrupts my train of thought, and I open my eyes for a few seconds to write down what I am hearing. I close my journal, stand up and join the group of Skidmore students, only to add more movement and noise into the busy Piazza Navona.

(Piazza Navona, 05/22/2019)

Giornale

I looked down at my watch as I loudly shut the heavy wooden door of my bedroom. Once again, I was late.  I sprinted across North Quad onto the grass in front of the dining hall and down the path towards Case Center. My peers and professors were gathered in a circle, talking outside in the warm April weather. After a few minutes, we all broke into our groups to drive to Governor Nelson A. Rockefeller Empire State Plaza. Peter, Hannah and I all scrunched into the back of Katie’s car. We left Skidmore’s wooded campus, drove onto the highway, and made it to our final destination in Albany. We decided to ride with the windows down, so the five of us were practically screaming at one another in order to converse. Although we did talk about how the research was coming along for our site presentations, we spent the majority of the time discussing the different types of foods we wanted to try in Italy.

When we arrived in the parking lot, Professor Curley and Spinner greeted us with the tour equipment. Everyone put on their earphones that projected the professors' voices into our ears. After our group was oriented, we make our way to our first destination. Beautiful buildings and the surrounding environment took me by surprise. As we progressed on our adventure, we walked up the New York State Museum and came across the memorial to those who dedicated their lives to serving in World War II. The concealed space was standing behind a multitude of tall trees marking the perimeter of the walkway. A circular pool made from granite slabs rests in the middle. As I walked around the narrow path around the pool, the idea of sacrifice and freedom resonated within me. I read the names ingrained on the side of the granite slab of those who had died.

A few minutes later, we crossed the street to the Empire State Plaza. While sitting on the smooth steps of the museum, the class focused on the symmetry seen in the Brutalist buildings set around the reflecting pool. To the right of me were four Agency buildings which were block-like structures, while to the left of me, I could see an egg-shaped building. The oddly-shaped building was actually a theatre.  The buildings made with concrete looked modern and futuristic while the New York State Capitol building facing directly in front of the group looked completely different. The facade of the Capitol building was extremely decorative with a white exterior.

Next, Professor Spinner and Curley guided the group to the bottom of the stairs to stop at the wooden labyrinth and continue on to the Fallen Firefighters Memorial site. On our way, we passed children dancing, people skateboarding, and families walking around the plaza.

At the Fallen Firefighters Memorial, the class gathered in front of a massive bronze sculpture of two firefighters holding their injured partner. As I walked around the site, I looked at the names carved into the granite wall that lay behind the statue. While there were many names already etched into the stone, Professor Spinner and Curley explained how the empty spaces left were meant as placeholders for future deaths.

Our trip to Albany also included a visit to the concourse underground. While the corridor underneath resembled a regular train station at first, our eyes were quick to see the beautiful art collection hidden below. Large abstract pieces lined the walls next to coffee shops and restaurants which added fun colors to space. The concourse brought us back to the front of the plaza where we headed back to campus.

The field trip provided to be more informative and interesting than I had anticipated.  I was able to see a space that looks modern and harsh while appreciating the welcoming and fun side. The museum, the theatre, the reflecting pool, Capitol and Agency buildings all create a space where people can come together as a community. While it seems like this place is for government buildings, I also felt like people were drawn to the plaza even if it was only for a few hours. By exploring the plaza, I was able to see how art is important to the people of Albany in the concourse and theatre. I also noticed how a sense of structure and order could be found within the architecture. I liked how the space could be used in a variety of ways. Lastly, the reflecting pool and monuments seemed to be aimed at the past while the buildings were designed to be modern and look towards the future.

While reflecting on the field last week’s trip, I think the trip did an amazing job preparing the class for our future adventures in Rome. We were able to observe the space, symmetry, art, and culture of the plaza all within the course of a few hours. After spending time with the class, I am excited to see how we work together in Rome and I know that the discussions and observations we make will be interesting and eye-opening.

The air is stagnant in the crowded living room.

Plastic leaves erect from the synthetic tree,

Hidden in the corner of the room,

By dark velvety shadows.

A right leg of the plush couch in the middle of the room,

Melts into a zebra carpet,

Which sinks into the leopard matting.

The couch embraces her body.

Thick blankets cling to her curves encompassing her long physic.

The wall behind her is as blue and vast as the ocean,

A royal blue,

Wide and a deep enough to have her carried away.

The blue wall fighting for the viewer’s attention

But the fluorescent lights graze over her silky skin,

Stopping to greet her

And lightly kiss and caress her cheek.

Her dark skin radiating from afar.

She lounges like the goddess Venus

Exemplifying love, sex, and beauty,

All in one entity.

Her head tilted back,

Eyes closed,

Lips sealed,

Body still,

While her hand rests underneath her heavy head.

Her legs jetting on the end of the couch,

While her thick thighs stick together,

And tranquillity is being admitted from her gesture.

Her body tangled in her red blouse

The undone silk

Which Leaves her chest exposed.  

Her soft nipple protrude out

Just like Trajan’s column stands tall.

A bouquet rests in her hand,

Full of delicate petals,

With inflated roses and leafs bundled together,

Suffocating each other, while thirsting for water,

Hanging from the side of the couch

Flowing down onto the leopard carpet

Like the waters that run down the Trevi Fountain.

(Tang, March 21, Mickalene Thomas, Madame Mama Bush, 2012)