In celebration of September

What a better way to celebrate the end of August than with some stellar poetry. A very wise person led me to this one. I’m sending it out to you, all of you. It’s not mine — so much better. Enjoy!

I
by Wendel Berry (1979)

I go among trees and sit still.
All my stirring becomes quiet
around me like circles on water.
My tasks lie in their places
where I left them, asleep like cattle.

Then what is afraid of me comes
and lives a while in my sight.
What it fears in me leaves me,
and the fear of me leaves it.
It sings, and I hear its song.

Then what I am afraid of comes.
I live for a while in its sight.
What I fear in it leaves it,
and the fear of it leaves me.
It sings, and I hear its song.

After days of labor,
mute in my consternations,
I hear my song at last,
and I sing it.  As we sing,
the day turns, the trees move.

Wednesday’s discovery

This may shock you (or not, really, most of you don’t know me) but I just read “M., Singing” by Louise Bogan and wow, why haven’t I read her before? Or if I have, why don’t I remember?

Now, innocent, within the deep
Night of all things you turn the key,
Unloosing what we know in sleep.

It’s just a sample. But wow. . . must read more. Any Boganphiles out there let me know what to read and where to begin.

post-euphoric monday buzz

Naughty clowns, flashing lights, bendy twins and dancing skeletons — Cirque du Soleil’s Kooza was a big visual feast yesterday afternoon. I’m not sure how it ranks against the others that I’ve seen, but it was still the magical concoction of all that is awe and heart stopping. And this year I had the added benefit of sharing it with Lily who is 5 and was definitely intrigued by the whole thing (“They are NOT going to ride that bike across that wire?!”). A few times even Mendy looked like she had  stopped breathing and Lori was surely as impressed as everyone else by the unicyclist, jugglers and chair climbers. And the big wheel riders deserve second mentioning — really check them out here. Of course, I also couldn’t help but notice the production details that make all that magic work. That may be the coolest aspect of the whole show.

Then to follow that up with the Oscars. Wow. Jon Stewart was phenomenal. I didn’t know he could sing AND dance. And boy does he look great in a tux! I think he’s been working on his tan too. I’m not sure about the Aussie accent — at times it didn’t play to well coming from a Jew from Jersey. His love for the musical being choreographed to a T with the vocal assist by Beyonce — I’m still reeling from it all. And the awards themselves, I liked the changes. My favorite being how they presented the screenplay nominees.

Such a great weekend. I still have stars in my eyes.

Thank you Arianna

Yes, a Huffington article put things in perspective for me and I feel a calmer motivation today. Once more it is going to take us a lot of effort to get the message back to where it needs to be and off of the distraction. But things are so bad, I think that most will remember the party and in part the person (McCain) that got us in this desperate situation.

Things to think about and remind others off and to educate the masses about:

Gas was an average of $1.46 when Bush took office. McCain, like Cheney Bush, is in bed with big oil. His mantra of “drill drill drill” is more than enough evidence of it. And if you think things will change by drilling, you may be right, but they will not change for probably 20 years an by then, if we dedicate resources to an alternative, drilling and killing the environment for oil would be a moot point.

Barack Obama is not a Muslim. Most of these readers know that, but a lot of you live in areas and are related (like me) to people that continue this lie. Please tell everyone you know.

Over 4,000 US Soldiers have died in a conflict that has not been appropriately justified.

Our economy is suffering and spiraling out of control. And McCain wants to continue the same Bush economic plan that has gotten us in this situation.

Unemployment is on the rise. Foreclosures are running rampant.

These are just a few of the several things we all were thinking about a few weeks ago. We need to refocus and get back on track and reconsider who is the best to lead us out of the pit that we are in. McCain and Palin = Bush and Cheney. Thanks Arianna for reminding me of that. Please feel free to post other problems that we have encountered in the past 8 years.

Big Blue Bash

So much more fun than I thought. Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of pictures of the farm during the concert, but I have the before and next day (and a few in between). We had surprisingly great weather with a breeze and lots of people, young and old, that are excited about the Democratic candidate and ready for some change. Honestly though, most people were talking about how great the place looked. And it did. Dad puts anyone to shame in the effort category.

Two bands played on the deck and chased the cows down pasture. Burning Paradise was very heavy metal and Sky Tells All jumped all over the place and took their shirts off. All in all, surprisingly good — just not sure what my grandmother would say about it all. But then again, grandpa would have loved the people being here. Mom and I celebrated the later spirit and hung out with the boys til 2 a.m. (The boys being the Chair of the Walton County Dems and a former student of mine). Of course, before the last band left, one of them called me ma’am. Horrifying.

Check out the pictures (especially my adorable mother). Tomorrow I head to Atlanta and then on to Raleigh and then  . . . Wilco and pedicures and friendtime!!! Very excited.

Big Blue Bash

Location, location, location

My mother is a realtor so maybe that is why the mantra rings so true to me. After arriving back in the States this week, I’ve tried to think of the new name for the blog and have resorted to this one for now. Like me, it isn’t specific and rests on fluctuation. When I decide or am led to where I’ll be, perhaps it will change. (On Ponce sounds nice, no?) Or maybe I’ll keep it; after all, sometimes ambiguity feels like my one constant.

So, change your link titles, etc. Or keep them as Along the Arno until I’m really fixed somewhere else. Now, I’ll just be in between.

And soon you’ll have news of the Big Blue Bash. Oh, yes, my homecoming has coincided with some Walton County Florida Democrats merriment. Must dig the camera out of the luggage. Certo.

Südtirol

Also known as Alto Adige by the Italians, was formerly part of the Austrian Empire and then Austria-Hungary. All of this is my way of saying that it’s not very Italian. The buildings, the people, the food, etc. Of course, the Italian rail still services the area, so that part is still the same. When we arrived in Fortezza, we discovered that the rails to Valdaora were closed, so we had to wait for a bus.

Needless to say, that was really the only snag. Once we were picked up in Valdaora by the cook of the hotel, everything else was wonderful. I’m totally in love with this region of Italy. Altitude makes me energetic and I can think clearly. Plus the fact I was staying at a posh hotel with a sauna, pool and free massage . . . well, it was tough to leave. Mountains are where I ultimately need to spend most of my time. That became clear to me the second day as I strolled through town. I love wearing a jacket in July. Breathing is simply better. And the side effect is that everything else is simply better. (OK, winters on mountains are brutal, but I can always leave.)

While there, another epiphany occurred, I also love music. I mean, that sounds obvious, but really I’ve never been able to remember bands and songs I like, etc, so it always seemed to be second to literature. A distant second. But no, Nick Hornby’s 31 songs opened my eyes. He saved so many memories for me. It’s like part of my brain unlocked and all of the files of my past came pouring in. I think I may add 31 songs to my all time favorite book list. Drastic, maybe. So the whole stay there and the entire trip back was one long sound track. I’m actually working on that soundtrack now. It was a moment in my life, in the right place and with the perfect person to share it with.

Enjoy the pictures! Find your mental higher ground.

Valdaora

the day after

No fireworks for me yesterday, but I did spend it with good friends. I keep wanting to write about my last month here. Sort of a top 25 things I’ll miss, or just inundate you with pictures and description; but the truth is I’m void of the energy or the will. Instead, I will pick this post to talk about the things I’m looking forward to coming back to or discovering. (friends, family and cats don’t count because that is obvious)

In no particular order:

• Sending text messages to my American and Italian friends. I’m getting a tri band phone so I can communicate with everyone.
• driving down the road and understanding everything on the radio
• air conditioning
• multi-plex theaters
• wide range and variety of restaurants
• public library
• campaigning for Obama
• Publix sub
• Sweetwater Blue beer
• having deep conversations with random people about the state of the world and not worrying about conjugating verbs correctly or being able to argue and complain effectively
• clothes that fit
• shoes that fit
• (keeping my fingers crossed on this one) a job with benefits in a field I’ve actually studied
• going to a Braves game

To some, this may seem like a trite list. It’s not got the depth and desire someone else could come up with. I mean, I could have put hearing Southern accents, and sweet iced tea, and feeling like I was in my element. Maybe I could even share the recent conversations with ex-pat friends about how difficult it is to be here, the futility, the invisibility, the hostility, etc. But really, that is only a part of the picture. And for me to put on the list, say, feeling embraced by my surroundings would make it seem like I’m not appreciated here (and I am). It’s just different. So, my list is only of the things I really can’t have here. Yes, they are superficial things. Then again, you don’t know how deep my love for the Publix sub runs.

Hope everyone celebrated Independence in some form yesterday.

Maggio Musicale

Just three names: Zubin Mehta, Peter Greenaway, and Charlotte Rampling. Of course, then there are the musicians, the vocalists, the whole thing that made up the opening night of the 71st Maggio Musicale on April 26th at the Teatro Comunale. It opened with an expected, but crowd pleasing, Haydn piece. Then the second, a Britten (Sinfonia da Requiem Op. 20) which blew me away. Especially the saxophone player. Superb. Finally followed by the not-so-expected Schönberg with Ms. Rampling reading a “Survivor from Warsaw” while Greenaway played as video-jockey with images from various human autrocities. Rampling’s powerful recital was what made it. Well, Zubin made it all happen for me. 

(I should interject here that I have a love-hate relationship with films by Greenaway. My father should remember torturing my wee brain with The Draughtman’s Contract. Yet watching Pillow Book as an adult, lovely—and death by ink, yummy.) 

So it started out a magical night. Well, there were some glitches in the magic. First, I keep hearing about the Florence audience and how they lack passion — perhaps that is true. The big problem was that Mehta was going to address the audience and his PA went out. Umm, hello? Kind of a big deal people. Regardless, a great prima volta for me. And the music was not over. The night ended with an intimate iPod concert for two featuring several gems from the 80s; dancing, loving the stirring-waking-effect of sound.

Beauty, experience, life; I’d almost forgotten what I was doing here. Thanks for bringing it all back.

minor complaints to change

Yes, I had to change the name back to Along the Arno. A few of you said it was creating problems with your finding me. And Shelby, I would change the font, but for now will let it remain.  And for those of you skilled at these things, please let me know how to one day change my header to something more personal.Sorry for the confusion!