planning and planning…

I’m going to be in Italy for a month and have plans for only the first 10 days.  The rest will fall into place!  This is the area I’ll concentrate on…  but who knows what could happen?!

After landing in Bologna, I’ll hop a train and bus to stay with a blogging pal in a tiny village in Tuscany.

 

A couple of days later, I’ll take the train to Ravenna where I’ll take a 5-day mosaics class that teaches the traditional methods.  I will also celebrate my 55th birthday there!  I’ll be staying in a small B&B right in the historical district and will quite likely ride a bicycle to class!

I’m hoping to apprentice in a mosaics workshop, which would require that I stay in Italy for longer than a month.  If I still have money, I may do that!

that is mosaics!

  Then, since Venice is just up the road, I’ll probably head there.  How could I miss Venice?!  Burano or Murano?

Siena?!   I have a guidebook that belonged to my uncle who visited there on a break from North Africa during WWII.    I’ve long wanted to see Siena….  but it’s south of that purply highlighted area!    hmmmm….  what to do?  what to do?

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four Wednesdays hence

… I will be wishing I could get comfortable in my cramped Lufthansa airline seat so that I could sleep away the 10-hour overnight flight.

Lufthansa long-haul flight

I will also want to stay awake to watch icy white Greenland slide along below us, 41,000 feet under those wings.

Four Wednesdays hence I will be living my dream of spending a solo month in northern Italy.   I have the round-trip ticket, I have registered for the 5-day classical mosaics class in Ravenna on the east coast, and I know where the flight sets down outside Bologna, but I still don’t know where I’ll lay my jet-lagged head the first night or nights thereafter.  I don’t know if I’m renting a car at the outset or at all.

I do know I will be celebrating my 55th birthday in Italy.  Cinquante cinque ani!

This dream of going to Italy has haunted me for years.  Perhaps once I’m there I’ll be able to articulate the tremendous magnetic desire to be in that tiny country.  Life experiences to now have narrowed like a funnel to point to the concluding reason for the disparate events that all seem to make sense now:

Mom had us studying Latin when we were kids and I continued to study in college.  Gaudeamus igitur, etc. and so forth!

We lived in Taranto way down at the heel of Italy when I was a wee thing and apparently my brother and I spoke conversational Italian to our housekeeper, though we apparently refused to speak Italian to our parents!  Dov’è Laurio?    Andiamo bambini!

The Ancient Italians, those amazing, warring Romans, have had my attention for decades.  They knew how to use concrete as well as any modern concrete contractor!  Amazing!  Underwater!

Some years ago I wanted to learn mosaics, but since I wanted to do outdoor installations, I stopped what I was doing with mosaics to teach myself about concrete as a substrate for those mosaics.  I love working with cement!  I love the smell of admixture in my cement and sand mix in the morning!

Four Wednesdays hence, as I fly to Italy, it will be two years ago almost to the day that I was laid off from a quite fine job, a job from which I believed I would retire with a nice little 401k.   I at least have the little 401k!

These last two years have been an exploration, a rediscovery of the guts I possess that have allowed me to simply try something!  How hard could it be?!  

In an effort to become employable once more, I studied landscape design, but after the third quarter of commuting to school in unfathomable traffic, I called Uncle! and stopped.  Simply stopped.  Panicked.  Didn’t panic.  Wondered and thought and pondered in that nonmoving space and time.

Recovered from the exhaustion brought on by being caught up in the too many people in too-close quarters driving aggressively at 70 mph!   As I came out of the exhaustion, I returned to my spot in the garage and poked around with my concrete stuff again.  Created some oddball stepping stones.  Became inspired, at last being rested and refreshed after a difficult 1-1/2 years, to work on mosaics along with the concrete.

Full circle.  I know concrete as a substrate for outdoor installations.  I learn mosaics in leaps and bounds, absorb knowledge and wisdom from the teachers who have written books.  Knew I wanted badly to go to the seat of Byzantine-era (around 600 CE) mosaics and learn at the feet of master mosaicists.

Still have to earn a living and wondering what in hell to do at my age when I’ve effectively been shut out of the job market.

Boing!  Clink!  Bing!   I shall be a concrete and mosaics artist and I will call the business Concrete Couture (TM).

Four Wednesdays hence, I shall be on my way to Italy, to tie together those disparate experiences, to bring to the fore all the courage I’ve ever had, to try something new, to take a leap of faith, the only net being the Universe, which has cared for this Earthling all these years, kept me alive and showed me how to thrive.

© No Stealing!  That’s what the little c in the circle means!
© lahgitana and Rockin’ the Purple, 2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to lahgitana and Rockin’ the Purple with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Cartooning and coloring

I’m slow, but steady:  finished the mosaic cartoon, then made myself a cheat-sheet of the colors to order:

I’m planning to take a 5-day mosaics class in Ravenna, Italy when I take my month-long trip next February.  Since I’ve been booted out of the job market, because of my age (age-ism!!!!%$@), I’ve been casting around for other money-making ways.  Our culture is set up for 9-5ers, but I have always chafed at being squoze into that pigeonhole.  Even in my 20s a friend remarked, “But you’ve never wanted to work full time.”

Good thing, that, because with my weird proclivity for getting tired easily, I cannot work full time on someone else’s schedule.

Mosaics could be It.  I remember now how I got into concrete sculpture–I wanted to do outdoor mosaics!  So, got distracted by learning how to create my own dang substrates upon which to embed said mosaics.

(Aside:  getting distracted like this is something the Big Mister and I call a “moose muffin.”  It’s not what you think, partly because they produce tootsie rolls and not muffins.  There is a lovely children’s book called If You Give a Moose a Muffin, that splains what happens if you start with one thing with a moose….  And of course, having lived around mooses for many years in Alaska, I am particularly fond of the vision of giving a moose a muffin and other stuff!)

Ahem.  Mosaics.   Yes, there I was.  (There’s a dance that goes with that trying to remember where I was.  I’ve been told that I resemble Eddie Izzard the fabulous comedian/commentator when he dances around trying to remember where he was!)  Any-way, mosaics have been an art form for at least a kajillion years and probably served as wayfinders before that.

I like rocks.  Stones.  Tiles.

Thanks, Mom, for believing in me yet again!

© No Stealing!  That’s what the little c in the circle means!
© lahgitana and Rockin’ the Purple, 2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to lahgitana and Rockin’ the Purple with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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