Last Looks

Today marks my last full day in Cortona. Then it's off to Venice for a couple of days, back here for the "Last Supper" Friday night, and then an early train to Florence on Saturday to catch my flight.

I'm really, really bummed out about leaving this little mountain at the moment. While the summer has had a lot more ups and downs that I would have hoped for, it's all been the best as far as my growth is concerned, and I hate to leave this vibrant, inspirational, serene atmosphere. I've met some great artists, been inspired more than I ever have in my life, made some new friends, saw some of the world's greatest architectural, artistic, and natural treasures, and have done things that I would never have the opportunity to do otherwise. I learned how to process and print film in a darkroom, furthered my design skills, and developed a well-rounded knowledge of some of the other art forms going on at UGA and in the world right now. And, somewhere along that road, I met one heck of a girl that I'm lucky to have in my life.

Cortona has been such a wonderful place to learn, grow, and live over the last two months. I am so blessed and so thankful to have had this opportunity. Thanks to all for the support, well wishes, and financial help over the last two months. I'll do my "final" post after I return home on Sunday, with a recap of the most memorable moments of my trip along with the usual meandering ramblings. 'Til then, ciao.

-msr

Quiero dos tacos blandos...

The first thing I'm going to do upon returning to America: eat Mexican food. I'm craving to the point of dreaming about it.

Home Stretch

Well, the end is in sight...and it's getting clearer by the moment. I have class tomorrow, Monday, and Tuesday, and that's it for the academic part. I haven't posted this week due to the amount of work I've been slaving over, but I think I've crested the hill. Our final photo portfolio is due on Tuesday, and my final landscape project is due the following morning. I've nearly completed my photo stuff, and hopefully the last design project won't be too much of a headache.

Then it will be off to Venice for a personal vacation to end to my time in Italy; I figured it would be fitting to spend my last two days here exploring the same city that introduced me to this wonderful country. Plus, now that I'm armed with a novice level of black and white skills, I might be able to pull out a few worthwhile photos upon my return. That would make me happy.

Sorry for the lack of introspect/exciting tales. Not enough sleep mixed with an exhaustion of my artistic skills for the time being make for a rather monotonous post. Also, please keep another one of my friends from here, Beth Robinson, in your prayers. She just got word this morning that her brother (only 25 years old) passed away, and she is already on a flight home. I've seen so much heartbreak this trip...I guess it just goes to show how much we need to cherish every day and live life to the fullest.

Ciao,

-msr

Celebrations

What a week. A rush to the finish in both of my classes, a whirlwind trip to Rome, a field trip to Orvieto, and an Italian Mass to top it off. Where to begin...

Last week was the climax of my classes, which made for some late nights but ended up making my birthday that much better because I had nothing to worry about over the course of the weekend.

Rome and my birthday were great. I have a wonderful, amazing, caring group of friends and family that let me know that I'm loved, and for that I am forever grateful. I am so blessed. Thanks to all of you.

Rome itself was amazing. We caught a later train that we wanted due to a guest speaker announced at the last minute here in Cortona, but things worked out as they always do, and the group made it to the amphitheater in Rome long before the show started. A wonderful dinner preceded the show, setting the mood for a quiet, upscale evening.

Damien Rice was unbelievable. The venue was an imtimate outdoor amphitheater, the stage a simple semi-circle dotted with candles on the ground and a fairly simple lighting set around. The show began minutes after the last bit of sun fell behind the horizon, making the candles and the single spotlight on Rice's piano that much more effective. He started off the show alone, playing "Rootless Tree" with piano being the only accompaniment to this haunting song.


"what i want from you
is empty your head
they say be true,
don't stain your bed
we do what we need to be free
and it leans on me
like a rootless tree
what i want from us
is empty our minds
we fake a fuss
and fracture the times
we go blind
when we've needed to see
and this leans on me
like a rootless..."

Band members joined Damien one at a time, song by song. The setlist was wonderful, with only "Older Chests" and "Amie" left out from my favorites. A completely unplugged version of "Cannonball" closed out the set. And when I say unplugged, I mean that Damien Rice asked the audience for quiet, unplugged his acoustic guitar from the mic, stepped out to the edge of the stage, and played the song sans any electrical help at all, just his voice barely carrying through the night, as if he was just some guy sitting on a streetcorner in Rome playing for the passerbys on the street. As if that wasn't enough, the encore was full of fun songs and topped off with a version of "Cheers Darlin" that I can't even describe. Phenomenal show.

The next day was spent visiting St. Peter's for one last time and then making our way back to Cortona. The night was finished off with pizza at Tonino's and a viewing of "Almost Famous".

Saturday was spent in Orvieto, a neat town on top of a plateau about an hour from Cortona. Naps in a park, a bit of cave exploring, yet another duomo visit, and a little bit of window shopping made up the day.

This morning I got up a bit earlier than usual and went to an Italian service at the Catholic Church in town, just for a change of pace. I wanted to see if the worship of God carried over to me through the denomination and language barrier. It was a beautiful service, and the nun that led the hymns had a voice that carried through to my soul. The ritualistic nature of the Catholic Church is something that interests me. I like that they show so much respect to the past and to God, but I wander if it is these same rituals that have alienated so many people within that organization from the God that it is supposed to be about. Regardless of my theological questionings of the church, it was nice to be in God's House again, however different it may be from Glady Branch.

Sorry for the rambling nature of this post. I don't really have the patience to go in-depth on much, but I wanted to share the last few days' events while they were still fresh. Take care everybody.

Ciao,

-msr

Partying in the birthday suit

Off tomorrow to see Damien Rice in Rome. I'm really, really excited; it's not too often you get to see one of your favorite artists, on your birthday, in Rome, with good company. Not much else to write about...thanks to all for the prayers for my buddy. A little bit of background: Blake, one of my roommates here, had to fly back home yesterday on a moment's notice due to a very serious and sudden health issue with his father. We got word earlier today that he made it home alright and that his dad was still hanging in there, thankfully. Please continue to keep his family in your thoughts and prayers; this should never have to happen to anyone, and certainly not to such a great dude.

I'll be back in Cortona on Friday with a little write up about my latest adventure.

Ciao,

-msr

Perspective

A few events transpired this morning that made me take a few steps back and reevaluate my life and personal situation. I am so incredibly blessed, and feel frivolous for worrying about unimportant things and adopting a negative attitude towards so many things recently. The little things always work out, and it hurts to know that I've been anything less than positive at the same time that a friend of mine is going through a truly horrendous situation. A quote from Mary Schimdt's Sunscreen essay comes to mind:

"Don't worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday."

Please keep my friend Blake in your prayers, and I encourage you to take a step back from your own life and count your blessings and to tell the people around you that you love them.

-msr

Somewhere There's Music

Something happened this past weekend that is a rare event in my life: tears came to my eyes. It wasn't the beauty of Florence (which was the city I spent my weekend in) that brought them on, nor was it any human interaction. It wasn't from a sad sight, or from an tragic ending to a book or film. It was simply a series of pictures of some guys playing musical instruments. Strange, eh?

Larry Fink, an American photographer who focuses on social commentary and certain people groups, has an exhibit titled "Somewhere There's Music" on display at Florence's photography museum. The pieces were black-and-white shots taken between 1950 and the early 70's of American jazz artists, ranging from the legends like Leroy Jenkins to guys at the local bar. This body of work left me stunned; it is the perfect example of an artist connecting with their subject, and having the skill and talent to display this connection in a way that no other person could and no other medium could. This quote greeted us as we entered the exhibit, and I don't think I could explain what he did with a million of my own words:

"Jazz players were my heroes. I idolized and was awed by them. As a young boyish man, I stood in line at the clubs unknown to most so that I could experience first hand the inner pleasure of beauty, the linear intelligence, the liquidity, the release. Music, foul and growing, dark, round, and tranquil, long and clear...it is for me the river of life. It fuels me on the deepest level. I wish to share with all the majesty of being witness...to sound."

The prints caught that moment where a jazz musician loses himself in the music, where he becomes one with his instrument, where he transforms into a different animal. Fink understood the music, the moment, and captured it in a fashion that took my breath away. I felt I could relate with this subject; while I have yet to find my own medium of expression (photography might be it, but I still have a ways to go), I am blessed with the ability to lose myself in a someone else's body of art, be it a film, song, photo, or occassionally a painting or sculpture. That moment when a piece of art takes over, when the world becomes secondary to the experience at hand, is magical to me. It has happened numerous times this summer, and from a plethora of inputs ranging from Ryan Adams to a short film to Bernini's sculptures to some of my classmates' work to God's own paintings in the sky. Thus, it was fitting that a medium I care so much about, with a subject that has been so key to me this summer, was the one that finally got me, that finally made me just stop and take it in, stirring my heart and losing me within it. It was beautiful. I wish that I could write an entry that would do the experience justice, as corny as that sounds, but writing is most definitely not my medium.

I guess I'll leave with a quote from the legendary Roswell Rudd, and one of the pictures from the show. They might do a bit better.

"...So I would be dancing around and doing my scat, singing along with what they were doing. And just watching those guys go into another world, with their sounds, you know, and the expressions on their faces changed and their behavior was different...something comes over them, some kind of extraordinary force comes over them...moves them, you know, a strange feeling, or maybe just a huge kind of epiphany...suddenly, skies open up and you see eternity..."




Ciao,

-msr

A Sense of Place

Cortona is starting to feel a lot like Athens as far as my comfort level goes. I know my way around our little mountaintop pretty well, and the novelty of being in a foreign country wore off a good while ago. I can finally do what I sought out to: immerse myself in a place, familiarize myself enough to feel it, and hopefully glean some design techniques and philosophies from it. Life lessons wouldn't hurt either, but that's an entry for a later time.

It no longer feels strange to see road signs and advertisements in a foreign language. I don't feel totally lost when I walk down a street and don't hear a word of English spoken. Uneven stone streets, while not fun to navigate while jogging on, don't seem so awkward anymore. Ordering at a restaurant isn't as much of a challenge as it used to be, and I'm even getting used to the tiny cars that line the streets.

By no means am I flaunting myself as a blue-blooded Italian or anything like that; rather, I make those points to show that I've just grown accustomed to this way of life, and I think that's kinda neat. Now, in my last few weeks here, I feel like I can now really take it in and immerse myself in the spirit of this place. Why is this so important to me? Because it's linked on so many levels with what I want to do with the rest of my life.

Each place has its own personality and leaves its own distinct impressions on its occupants. It's important for a designer to recognize those feelings and see what elements of a given area contribute to those impressions. These same elements will be manipulated by the designer in order to create a new sense of place in other locations, so understanding what makes an area its own is quite the important task. Most people think that Landscape Architects just throw in some shrubs to make a place prettier, but my actual aim is to create a space with its own individual presence, and it takes a lot more than a few rhodos and boxwoods to accomplish that. An understanding of scale, light, hardscape materials, entries, circulation, elevations, views, and spatial presences are all critical in mastering the craft of creating spaces.

The natural and built environments of Italy are quite different than those back home, and that's why I'm so interested in how people react to their surroundings here. And in this place where language has almost no influence on my perceptions of space, I can now focus on other things. For example, the geometry of the buildings. The lighting at different times of day. The scale of plants, their color, their bloom time. Where people walk. How fast they walk through the space. How the age of things affects their character. Where the eye is led to upon entering a space. How art or sculpture affects the space. Where windows are. Where doors are. Where are we guided to? What is there along the way? What colors, what textures draw you towards them? Which ones push you away? And, most importantly, how to the people in these places act? Do they move through quickly, or do they stop and let their eyes wander? Do they interact with the environment around them, or do they just accept it and move on? What do they focus on? Obviously, the landscape doesn't define all of the behaviors within it and thus a sociological understanding is also key, but that might be another rant sometime too. This is already long enough.

Big picture? It's neat to surround yourself in a wholly different environment. For a person that is going to be designing them for the rest of his life, I think I'm pretty blessed to have this opportunity. Hopefully I can get some tips through the fellas that built this city all of those centuries ago, letting them speak through their creation. Because while the language barrier might throw a wrench in figuring out what kind of pizza that is on the counter at the bar (turned out to be anchovies...), the relationship between a person and their environment is the same in any language, much like a kiss or a smile.

I think the folks at the Italian Customs Department have it out for me. No, really. How hard is it to get a package that contains paper, shirts, pop tarts, peanut butter, and some flip flops cleared? I'm gonna get the stuff just in time to pack it up and tote it back home. Lesson learned? Sometimes the easy-going, get-it-done-whenever Italian way of life can be a bit irritating.

*End rant.

Reflections Part 5 & other assorted thoughts

Sick Micah = no posts for a few days. Sorry to all that missed my rambling. :) The good news is that the bug has been kicked to the metaphorical curb, and we're prepped to go for a good week that will end with a weekend in Florence.

Before I continue on my Reflections slant, a few random thoughts:

It's really, really expensive to live in Italy. The nasty exchange rate right now is probably to blame. I'm basically paying twice as much for everything that I would back home.

I get to see Damien Rice, in Rome, on my birthday. How cool is that?

It hit me the other day that I'm over the halfway point of my time in Europe. That makes me sad. Surprisingly though, I'm fairly ready to get back stateside, if nothing else to see my family and my dog. And eat Mexican food.

Onto Venice reflections:

I fell in love with Venice in my time there. The city definitely has its lows in its stooping nature towards tourists, but the urban fabric of the city and its unique relationship to the natural landscape intriuged me to no end. It took me a day or two to really get a feel for Venice (the overt tourism gimmicks jaded me despite an amazing arrival), but I can safely say it has been my favorite place to be so far in Italy. A recount of one unforgettable moment:

The initial entrance to the city is unbelievable. A train carried us to Venice from the mainland, arriving on the northwestern side of the city. This path meant that we didn't see anything but ocean until arriving in the station, with nary a look at the city itself. After arriving at the train station, I left Kara with our luggage so that I could venture out into the drizzle outside and buy some water taxi tickets. As I walked out the door of the stazione, I felt like Tom Hanks in "The Terminal" as he steps from the harsh airport into the sweeping New York streetscape. Suddenly, all of the hustle, the chaos, the stuffiness, the coldness of the train station were gone. In one step, a horribly confined space had transformed into a breathtaking vista, and along with that was an experience that I will never forget. A large piazza spread out in front of me, terminating into the Grand Canal that ran left to right in from my perspective. On the other side of the Canal, the familiar-through-movies-and-pictures buildings speared out of the water, seeming to float. The buildings each shared a side, tightly knit together, creating a whimsical patchwork quilt of varying heights, architectural styles, and once-vibrant colors that still shone, only with the wink of many years of history. People came and went in a peaceful manner, strolling throughout the piazza and over a stunning bridge that spanned the canal to my left. Boats idled through the water in front of the houses, made up of as many styles and sizes as the buildings they scurried around. The drizzle provided a welcome refreshment from the stale station air, and the faint smell of the sea drifted in front of me, adding a strong reminder of the sea's all-important dynamic relationship with the city. A typically beautiful Italian church on the left and another sublime government building on the right framed the view.

I froze in the door of the train station. This unexpected vista riveted me in place, bringing a crooked, childish-wonder kinda smile to my mouth after the initial shock. I was in Venice. I closed my eyes, trying my best to cement this moment in my mind. The smells, the sounds, the views. Familiar elements, but set to a composition that I had never experienced. Love at first sight might be true after all.

Reflections, Part 4

After our trip to Bad Tolz, Kara and I decided to extend our Germany stay one more day than originally planned so that we could experience the city without torrential rain, cyclone winds, or darkness.

We started out the next morning with a visit to the Glockenspeil, a giant cuckoo clock in the Marianplatz that shows a joust with the various puppets on gears. It was pretty neat, and a good homage to German tradition. We wandered the Marianplatz for a bit longer, taking in the sights and making some great photos from the tower of Munich's tallest church.

After that, I talked my buddy into taking a short metro ride to the edge of town to see Allianz Arena, the brand new facility that housed the World Cup final last year and is the home pitch of Munich's premier club team, Bayern Munchen. I expected only to take a few photos of this phenomenal structure and head back, but we were greeted with a nice surprise in the form of a free Open House into the stadium upon arrival. Apparently they were celebrating the one year anniversary of the building, and had it open to the public as a nice little PR event. It got to walk down to the pitch, wander around inside, and play a few games such as lego soccer and a PK competition. I was as happy as a kid in a candy store.

Kara eventually dragged me away from the arena. We then headed to the 1972 Olympic Park, a wonderous example of contemporary architecture. The "Spiderweb" aesthetic had sweeping curves and spires all over, creating a sublime effect. T'was very, very cool, and for a designer, a great example of a well-crafted public space. Despite the cool look, however, it seemed as if the tragedy of those Olympic Games still hung a heavy emotional blanket over the entire area, especially the apartments across the street that were the actual site of the slayings of the Isreali athletes, even though it has been 35 years since those events. It made me contemplate the profound impact of tragedy at certain places; instead of being remembered for a great architectural achievement, the space will always be remembered for the human events that transpired there, much like Tiananmen Square and the World Trade Center.

We packed up our stuff that evening, and prepared to leave Germany for Venice. Our time in Germany had been challenging early on, but it turned out to be a wonderful place to spend some time. The German people were quiet but kind, and I loved their respectful and efficient nature. The infastructure of the city was amazing, as was the blend of modern society and the city's history. I would love to go back and see other parts of the country; a Berlin native that we met in the hotel one night confided to me (in a way that only locals can) that Munich wasn't really Germany, that you had to get to Berlin or Frankfurt to really see Germany. I would like to take him up on that suggestion sometime. Thoughts on Venice later on.

-msr

Reflections, Part 3

My third day in Europe was one of the most special to date. A short train ride from the Hauptbanhof took us outside of the city and into a beautiful countryside full of rolling hills, window boxes, and the Alps beckoning at the horizon. We got off at Bad Tolz's train station, a tiny little outpost much like the dozens of others I've encountered here. A winding road and a bit of a detour eventually got us into the town center of my childhood home.

The town was beautiful to the point of picture-perfect. Little children giggled and ran circles around smiling mothers, elderly couples sat on benches with wisened looks, and it seemed that every person you made eye contact with smiled and nodded or even offered a cheery "Gutentag". We wandered the main square, stopping in shops and a suggested cafe, and eventually made our way to the bottom of the downtown and to the banks of the Isar river. An adventure called our names when we saw a church on a mountain overlooking the city and decided to find it. The payoff was worth it, rewarding our hike with one of the better vistas I have ever seen. The town stretched out below us, with the river snaking off into the majestic ridgeline in the distance.

After more walking, dinner at Amolfi's, the restaurant we used to frequent when I lived there, was the plan. Sadly it was closed for the day, the one negative in an otherwise perfect day. I would have liked to see if the same place that I acquired my taste for spaghetti lived up to the legacy. Dinner was instead had at a local bar where a friendly waitress was kept company by a stunning white wolf mutt. It was one of a long line of dogs that I have seen here that are more civilized and well-behaved than many college students I know. Dogs go everywhere in Germany, with as much independence as people.

A visit to the old Army Post was the last motion of the day. We hiked up from town to find one of the only things I even vaguely remembered: the backyard of our apartment, complete with the slide that was there when I was a kid, It was nice to see the space being enjoyed by a group of local kids. The Post itself had been fitted with a new cream-colored coat of paint and held two large contemporary public buildings within its walls. The buildings and their spiral-shaped glass facades seemed very out of place amongst the rigid architecture (and history) of the complex. It was surreal to see the place that I had seen in so many pictures, to actually walk in it, to see it from new angles.

After our Post visit, it was time to return to Munchen. I thought about the day's events with an interesting mix of bittersweet emotions as the train took us home. The day couldn't have been better in itself, and yet that was the reason I was a bit down. I wished that my parents were with me to say "This is where.." or "We loved going here", and just to enjoy it with me. I also realized how wonderful it must have been to spend a childhood in this precious town, and I hated that I only remember scattered images at best. However, hindsight is 20/20, and I realize now how lucky I was to even make one return trip to my "roots". Bad Tolz is beautiful, and I'm glad that I can claim a part of its history as my own.

-msr

Roll Out

Interesting adventure last night: Watching the new live-action Transformers movie in Italian. I figured it wouldn't be too hard to follow a Michael Bay film, even if it was in a foreign language. I was right, almost to a sad degree. The movie's script was pitiful, apparent even in Italian, but it was still very cool to watch some of the idols of my childhood in real-life form, blowing things up to a degree that only Bay can do it. Watching an American movie here was quite the different experience, with the music, product placement, and familiar faces spitting out noises that didn't click at all. All in all, the evening was nostalgia at its best, and a novel experience.

Picture Time

Alright, here are the public links to my photo albums from across Italy. Hopefully you should be able to simply click on each link to see an album. Let me know if they work, and enjoy! -msr

http://uga.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2235314&l=2ef7d&id=4912107

http://uga.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2235317&l=8401b&id=491210

http://uga.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2235308&l=e8f86&id=4912107

http://uga.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2235292&l=56c1a&id=4912107

http://uga.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2232810&l=914ba&id=4912107

http://uga.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2232799&l=95627&id=4912107

http://uga.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2232742&l=753ff&id=4912107

http://uga.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2232785&l=36e27&id=4912107

http://uga.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2232740&l=4d007&id=4912107

Lesson of the day: Don't attempt a slidetackle on astroturf.

Other lesson of the day: Nike Shox have a crappy soccer touch.

Thought of the day: Playing soccer with Italians makes you realize why they call it the beautiful game.

-msr

Nothing creative coming to mind...

I usually try to base my posts around some theme or story rather than giving a minute by minute account of something, but nothing special (aside from the fact that I'm studying on the side of a mountain in the middle of Tuscany) is coming to mind. Instead, I'll share a recap of my typical weekday to give all of you curious readers a feel of what a day in the life of a Cortona study-abroader is all about.

I woke up at a nice and rosy 7:30 to throw on some clothes and head the door to our dining room, where we enjoy a buffet-style breakfast that our nice "housekeepers" set out for us on a daily basis. My typical breakfast includes the European equivalent of Special K and Granola (which is what I eat back home, so it works for me), a small fruit pastry, a roll with jelly, and some orange juice. I also usually try to comandeer a cup of yogurt to the studio with me for a mid-morning snack.

Class begins at 8:00 in the building next door. I have my landscape architecture design studio until noon. This time is spent drawing and writing as we create designs for one site or another. Right now, we are in the process of designing a front and back courtyard for the local elementary school. Our second day in class, we walked down and visited the site a in an effort to "get to know" the schoolyard and analyze its features by sketching, photographing, and taking notes. The next stage of the design process is conceptual, where we come up with loose, general ideas on what the site could be used for and how best to tackle those uses through plants, hardscapes (brick, concrete, walls, fences, walkways, etc.), art, paths, sitting places, etc. After the conceptual process, we start whittling the design down to specifics, like where a path should lead to and from, what the space will look like as you enter it, leave it, and move through it, how certain plants at certain times of the year will impact a space in different ways, what a space is appropriate for and what it suggests one should do in it, what kind of mood it sets the occupant in, and so on and so forth.

The last stage is putting the final pen to paper, as we draw a plan view (an aerial shot, basically), sections (as if you were looking at the landscape from the ground), and different detail sketches and drawings that clarify important parts of the design. I started the final sheet today, so hopefully it will be looking good by Monday's due date.

After my studio class, I have a one hour lunch break. Lunch is typically either a sandwich from the local grocer at the bottom of the hill, some fruit, or a classic peanut butter and jelly sandwich. My choice usually depends on whether or not I want to brave the grueling walk back up the hill once I get my food from downtown.

After lunch I have photography. My professor is a UGA Grad that has taught photography at both UNC and Duke, and is now taking over the photography program at UNC-Asheville. She's only 26, and is very energetic and fun to be around. We've started from the basics of how to make your camera work and have come all the way to printing photos complete with burning and dodging to enhance them, so it's been a neat experience. I have strong connection to photography as an art form, so I love seeing how the process actually works. It's also interesting to see just how little I know about what makes a good picture. But that's what we learn for, right?

Photo is done around 3 in the afternoon. I have no set schedule for my afternoons yet; I typically update this thing and check email for a few minutes once class is done, but by then I've usually seen enough of the classroom building and am ready to high-tail it out of here. Afer that, it's either running, working a bit longer on my project, reading, napping, laundry, running errands and buying supplies in town, shooting basketball, or taking photos for my class. Regardless of the activity, I seem to run out of time every evening, just squeaking by with a shower before dinner at Tonino's.

I hop around tables at dinner, rarely sitting with the same group. I like getting to know more than just one group of people, so I make it a point to sit with someone I haven't recently whenever I can. Our dinners are served in the typical Italian style of a primi course, which is always pasta of some type, followed by a second course, typically with meat, some salad, and another something or other (veggies, cheese, potatoes, etc.) and then dessert, which is typically fruit. It's wonderful.

After-dinner plans usually include hanging around in town for a few minutes to let the food settle, sometimes with the help of gelato. I cannot tell you how good that stuff is. Just imagine light, creamy ice cream with amazing flavors. My favorite is nutella (basically vanilla/chocolate swirl) and caramel creme together. It's unbelieveable. After that, it's back up the hill, at which point is typically around 10:00. It's chill time after that for an hour or two, and then off to bed to start over.

Hope that didn't bore anyone too badly. Maybe I'll have some amazingly deep, introspective thought to share tomorrow. Take it easy, everyone.

-msr

EDIT: Check out my facebook- new album up today.

Reflections, Part 2

Two posts in one day. To quote Ron White, "We are mooovin'." More on my earlier adventures:

After our tiring arrival in Germany, Kara and I decided to tackle Munich in our first full day. Despite a hellacious wind and driving rain outside, we began our trek to the Marianplatz (the historic downtown district). It took all of 10 minutes of walking to realize that this might not be the best day ever to explore the city on foot. The rain was sideways in spurts, and the wind so bad that people's umbrellas were reversing themselves by the dozens as they skittered in and out of buildings. I swear the temperature didn't crack 50 all day. This would have been fine except for the fact that US Airways had been kind enough to lose my luggage (I'm two for two on international trips as far as that goes), and I was sporting shorts and sandals until my clothes arrived.

Despite these epic obstacles, Kara and I trooped on like the determined folks that we are. We dashed into stores to regain feeling in our limbs from time to time, which turned out to be a good experience simply because we saw a lot more than the typical shiny tourist stops. A multi-story department store had a hilarious collection of American music, with selections ranging from 50 Cent to Ozzy. We wandered around the Marianplatz, enjoying a few of the churches and plazas, and browsed through a few shops.

Finally, when I was convinced that everything below my knees had frostbite, we called it a day. Stopping at Pizza Hut for dinner (it was the first thing in sight), we ordered some pizza (original, right?). After the meal, it was time to brave the last mile or so of our hike before reaching the sanctuary of our hostel. Not 5 minutes into the return trip, a huge gust of wind upended the take home box out of Kara's hands. As it opened, a piece of cardboard shot out of the box and made a beeline for my head. I had to make a Matrix-style dodge to avoid losing an eye, much to Kara's enjoyment. It was at this point that I was completely convinced that this trip was going to be miserable. I mean, when a Pizza Hut box is out for you, you know you're in trouble. We made it back to the hotel in one piece after nothing short of a videogame day, and readied ourselves for a (hopefully nicer) trip to Bad Tolz the next morning.

Lessons learned from my first full day in Munich?

1. Pack pants in your carry on. Exceptions include trips to the Sahara and Phoenix.
2. Keens are great shoes, but not the warmest when wet.
3. Pack an umbrella. Otherwise, you'll end up paying $7 for a piece of crap from a street vendor that turns inside out everytime the wind gusts.
4. Don't leave said black umbrella by the door of a store amongst dozens of others. Apparently, it will look the most attractive and thus will be stolen while all of the others remain safe and sound.
5. Even if the weather is horrible, you're suffering from jet lag, and you have no clothes, being in Europe is really, really cool.

More later, and hopefully pictures of my first photo prints. :) Peace.

-msr

The Soundtrack of Our Lives

It's strange how geography and lifestyle can alter musical preferences so much. My tastes while in Athens overlap only slightly with my favorite music during the summer and winter breaks when I'm in Brevard. Apparently, the same goes for Cortona. My Athens music is usually driven by indie stuff like Death Cab, Sufjan Stevens, Ryan Adams, Bright Eyes, and such, with a bit of folk, such as John Prine, and southern rock, such as the Allman Brothers, thrown in. Add a bit of classic rock from Seger, Aerosmith, the Stones, and the Eagles, as well as some out-there favorites like Natalie Merchant, and you basically have my mix of music while at school.

In Brevard, 88.7 dominates my ears with its electic, multiple-personalityish mix. I listen to a lot more folk and bluegrass at home, and not so much of the newer indie stuff. Malcom Holcombe, Bob Seger, and the Eagles are typically my favorites back home.

David Gray, the Drive-By Truckers, John Mellencamp, the Eagles, Shawn Mullins, and Ryan Adams are my concrete favorites; it seems that regardless of where I am or what mood I'm in, these guys come through in the clutch. It's been interesting to see how my musical tastes have differed thus far this summer.

Music has been a big part of my Italy experience thus far. My iPod has been a great companion on the train, in the studio, on the city wall, on the bus, and often in the moments before I go to sleep at night. Strangely enough, a lot of my typical favorites aren't seeing as much time, and complete albums are really working for me instead of random songs. Here's the soundtrack of my summer, thus far:

Ryan Adam's "Heartbreaker". Dynamic enough to work in a lot of settings, be it a chill evening, motivating studio work, etc. "My Sweet Carolina" makes me a bit homesick each time it runs through, though.

My Morning Jacket's "Z" and "It Still Moves". Two of my favorite albums that did make the jump over the pond.

Sigur Ros. The weird chill/indie vibe that these guys provide has been great listen to while I write in my journal. Beautiful meditative music.

Wilco's "A Ghost is Born". Another dynamic one. "Kidsmoke" is my favorite tune while running, and a lot of the other songs are good things to draw to in the studio.

The Allman Brothers' "Live at The Filmore East". Favorite album to work to in the studio thus far.

Any and all Drive-By Truckers are still candy for my ears, despite the subject matter and tone seeming to come from another world.

Shawn Mullins is still a favorite also, with "Eggshells" seeing a lot of playing time.

The Wallflowers' "Breach" and "Red Letter Days". Two albums that I haven't listened to much recently have been almost on repeat in the last several weeks. "Rebel, Sweetheart" is another album that has seen a lot of time, and the one album of theirs that I usually do listen to, "Bringing Down the Horse" has only gone through once or twice. Definitely my favorite band of the summer to this point.

A big surprise is that a few of my favorites like the Eagles, and Aqualung, and Aerosmith, haven't been doing it for me so much. Maybe it's the elevation.

Reflections, part 1

I've decided that instead of publishing a thorough recount of my earlier adventures with Kara, I'm just going to throw out little reflections whenever I have time. It doesn't look like I'm going to have the spare change to sit down and type an entire story out anytime soon, so here goes.

I flew out of Charlotte on a toasty Sunday afternoon. I said bye to Mom and Dad, went through security, and got on a tiny little plane to Philly where I would connect to the flight to Munich. I only mention this flight because I had a nice little run in with someone quite famous in my mind. Jay Bilas, of Duke basketball and ESPN analyst fame, happened to be sitting two rows in front of me on the plane. As is always the case with famous people, I found myself second guessing whether or not it was him. I got confirmation when he stood up and nearly hit his head on the cabin ceiling. I walked off the plane, only to find him heading to the terminal right beside mine (turns out Mr. Bilas was flying to England). I introduced myself and told him it was a pleasure, and in the next ten minutes or so, we shot the breeze about college basketball as we made our way to our respective terminals. I don't think my trip could have started much better than that. Despite being a dookie, Bilas was very kind and down to earth. I guess not everyone from that school is pure evil. Jon and he both turned out okay.

My entry into Munich wasn't quite as rosy. Lost luggage, Kara being locked out of my terminal, a few early collect calls to Mom and Dad, no food, and little sleep all added up to a hectic and not-so-fun hour and a half after I arrived. Things worked out as they always do, however, and it wasn't too long until we were on a train headed to Munich's city center.

We arrived at Munich's central train station, the Hauptbanhof. This massive complex of exposed framework and steel was a daunting but beautiful entry point. We hunted down the friendly folks at the "Euraid" office and a smooth-talking American helped us purchase Eurail passes and pointed us in the direction of our hostel. I enjoyed a pelligrino (ironic, drinking an Italian gassata on my first day in Munich) at a bar, and did my best to order in German...one of many failures at breaking the language barrier.

The rest of our day was spent wandering, unpacking, and of course, sleeping off some jet lag. It felt good to lay down, and while I was tired, I found myself eager to start my adventure.

Little Things

In Pulp Fiction's early dialogue in which two hit men discuss travelling to other countries, Travolta nails it when he talks about how it was the "Little Things" that stand out when one visits Europe.

For the most part, things work the same way here that they do back home. People commute in and out of cities to work, three meals are eaten every day, kids go to school, etc. It's the little things, however, that stand out. Businesses stay open until 7 at night, but they close for 2 or 3 hours in the early afternoon for "siesta" time. Ketchup is scarce, while manoyaisse can be found on nearly every food item. And peanut butter costs about $7 for a jar as small as most jelly jars back home, a personally brutal discovery. Perhaps the one that gets me the most, however, is the serving size for beverages. People here drink just as much coke, water, juice, etc. as we do, but instead of filling large glasses, they bring out the bottle of said beverage and a tiny cup that you have to fill up every 30 seconds or so if you drink like me.

These little things have been interesting to discover, and are fun to acclimate to. As far as big things go, classes are going well, the group of people I am with is great, and the food is still excellent. I might tell a story about my first photo processing experience later on today. Off to Assisi tomorrow for a field trip. Take care everyone!

-msr

Cortona

Well, I'm closing in on finishing my first week in my new home, Cortona. The town is everything I could ask for, and more. The views from every part of the city are simply breathtaking. One can see so far towards the horizon that it eventually fades into a haze, much like it looks like from the window of a plane. The town is flourishing, no doubt helped by the success of "Under the Tuscan Sun" and the travellers that come due to it, along with the constant drum of students from our program every three months (the summer program is one of four semesters spent in Cortona; UGA also has a fall, spring, and maymester course here). The locals seem very kind and understanding of our ineptitude at speaking Italian, and have had more than one "welcoming party", if you will, in our honor.

Our dorm is plain but homey; apparently our group is the first beneficiary of a major restoration over the last couple of years. I'm living with six other guys in the basement of our building. We've aptly named it the Bachelor Pad (creative, right?). It gets a little interesting with one shower, but the guys are all great and such be good company. It's a great dynamic, with a wide range of personalities. The studios and classrooms are in a neighboring building just a bit down the hill from the dorm. The building itself is ancient, but the studio seems to offer all we will need. I'm currently writing from a very high-end Mac in the computer lab.

Food is served to us nightly at Tonino's, a local restaurant apparently famed across the region for some great cuisine. I have not experienced anything that would suggest differently; the pasta, second courses, and desserts (typically delicious fresh fruit) have been incredible. Breakfast is buffet style in the dining room at our dorm, with cereal, European milk (not refrigerated), oj, rolls, jelly, yogurt, a few cookies or pastries of some kind, and coffee. It gets me by fine. Lunch is on our own, and I'm still scouting out the cheapest and tastiest meals in town for that. So far the local grocer has hit the jackpot with a 3 Euro turkey sandwich complete with mozzerella, pesto, and mayonnaise (which they put on everything here).

Evenings have been a treat for me. The temperature dips down into the fifties as the sun sets, which is a wonderful change from the hot afternoons. I've had the privilege of watching the sun set from the highest point in Cortona the last few evenings, and those moments will be forever engraved into my memory. The night life has been fun, complete with trips to the discioletca, or dance club, night walks through the town, evenings with a book and the iPod, and a big birthday celebration complete with 20 pizzas on top of the mountain last night.

My daytime activities have been helter-skelter to say the least. Last Wednesday and Thursday were basically the "Here's Cortona" days, complete with tours of the campus and town, unpacking, room assignments, a welcome band our first night, and supply shopping. I skipped the few meetings on Friday and actually made one more return trip to Rome (you would think two would be enough) and went to the Borgehese Gallery with a friend, as we had both missed the chance to see the gallery in our 4 days there. The trip was worth the effort; to see Bernini's sculptures and Caravaggio's images in person is enough to put tears in one's eyes. Never have I been so entrhalled at a piece of scultrue as Bernini's "Apollo and Dafne". It was incredible. Saturday was spent on a field trip to the beautiful city of Siena, in which I took a nice nap in a park after visiting a few sights. Sunday was a sleep and read day, complete with about and hour and a half worth of laundry. We had our official kick-off last night, complete with a ceremony attended by the mayor, a member of the US consulate, and other important people that I should probably remember but don't. The evening was finished off by a group of flag-throwers, which was a very cool spectacle to watch.

All that rambling puts me here; I just finished my first day of class, and am about to go for a jog and then probably to (finally) go shoot some basketball. I cannot tell you how happy I was to see a rim at the park the other day. I've already had a few chances to play some soccer, so that itch has been scratched, but I miss my basketball something awful. I'll backtrack later on today and share some thoughts on my first leg of vacation, Vill D'Este, soccer with the locals, and Italian food. Until then, ciao!

Oh yeah- some of the pics from my first leg of vacation are finally online. Here's the links. Click on any and they'll take you to my photo pages. Florence, Rome, Naples, and early Cortona shots will follow as soon as I can get my computer to work.

Munich and Bad Tolz: http://uga.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2226700&id=4912107

Munich and the Alps: http://uga.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2226709&l=9f5c3&id=4912107

Venice: http://uga.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2229183&l=3fc7a&id=4912107

More pics later. Have a great day, everyone.

Grounded

In my first two weeks in Europe, it's been a little like a dream. Only my bank account and lack of sleep have grounded me in reality; aside from that, it's been seeing remarkable sights as if in a dream, having little responsibility aside from my own (and Kara's) well being, following whims, and expressing my artistic tendencies.

So it struck me as out of place when, two nights ago, my program director announced at dinner that he'd rather not have us venture into the city due to the increasingly rowdy protests about President Bush's visit to Rome this week. It made me realize, that, despite my freewheeling adventures, the world and all of its problems are still going strong. This was no revelation, but a thought worth sharing in my mind.

I promise to have recounts of my visits to Munich, Tolz, Venice, Florence, Naples, and Rome soon...internet has been scarce and very, very expensive to use, so I haven't had time to write the tales in the fashion that I would like. Once we arrive in Cortona on Wednesday, however, I will have free internet to give my travels the time they deserve.

I hope everybody back home is doing well. I miss you guys.

Peace (please),

-msr

Roma

We arrived in Rome this evening. I was actually sad to say goodbye to Naples; it was beautiful. Nothing great to say right now...check back later for updates.

Napoli!

Arrived today in Naples via train. Our hotel is actually about 30 minutes south of the main city, all the way around the bay. The view is breathtaking; the bay stretches out from the cliffs below, meeting with the city in the distance, with Mt. Vesuvius (sp) towering over it all, its top so high that it becomes lost in the clouds. It truly is unbelieveable how people can see something like this and not believe in God. More later- I am back where internet costs money and there are no apostrophes on the keyboard. Bueana notte everybody.

-msr

Bet you guys thought I wasn't ever going to type on this thing. Truth is, internet and time have both been scarce thus far in Europe. I wonàt type long because the bed is calling my name, but here are a few thoughts that will have more elaboration soon:

Munich is much like many of the Germans that inhabit it; quiet, stern, and expecting respect from its visitors. I loved how quiet it (and Germany as a whole) is. It's like everyone just wants to take life in.

Bad Toelz is one of the most beautiful towns I have ever visited. I wish I could remember more of my time there. The people were warm and inviting, and there was so much vibrant energy all around.

Venice is amazing. The depth of that city is unbelievable. It has its visitors fooled into thinking it's all glitz and glamour, and satisfies those looking for such things. I think that it will go as deep as the traveler wants to go, with such a labryinth of alleys, streets, and canals. I could have photographed detail shots for a week and never found two shots that were similar.

If you're on a tight budget and still want to see Europe, go by train. I've seen so much just from a window.

That's all for tonight. Florence tomorrow, Rome the day after, then Kara heads home and I meet up with my classmates for a few days in Naples followed by a few days in Rome. After that, it's off to Cortona. I'll stick pics up whenever I get the chance. Until then, ciao.

-msr

Here goes nothing...