le clase en Italia

So, the first day of class in Firenze, Italia. Only mildly frightening, really. Let's get this out of the way, folks. I believe in signs. I have been collecting and admiring wooden tulips since my very early childhood. So, I walk into the painting studio where I will be taking The Fundamentals of Painting (oil painting!) and what sits on the table at the head of the class other than two vases holding wooden tulips! Well, it meant something to me. Just like a redbird flitting across a sky or a light going on & off without your doing so. Those things can have a calming effect on a girl, especially when she is out of the her "normal" surroundings.

Well, other than walking 30 minutes with 2 cumbersome shopping bags full of art supplies, my bookbag swinging haphazardly from one arm, and still yet a large framed oil painting canvas, I tell you, I looked like a savvy florentine in my purple European shoes.

Let's spend a moment reflecting on Intermediate Italian. Well, I'm not sure that I can seeing as how I understood very little of what the professor, FRANCESCO, spoke. ENTIRELY ITALIAN, folks. Not a budge at all. His shirt was pale pink, unbuttoned to below his chest. Beneath the shirt was a gold crucifixe atop a bed of...well, you know the stereotype! He seems to be a great teacher, though. And a lot of what was happening at the end of last years' class is really coming back to me.

Currently, it is very late and I must be getting to bed so that I can get up and get to my homework da mattina (in the morning) . I wish you could all be here. I am having a wonderful time. This city is very inspirational, I feel so bereft without my cello.

~Ciao for now,
Grazia