L'Arte di Avventura

I find it funny to have just recently realized how the simplest things in life make me the happiest. Give me art, language (which probably isn't simple within itself, but the concept is), chocolate, and something to laugh about and I am a happy soul. Being able to take a short bus ride to quaint little cities outside of Florence and explore the unknown is so appealing to me; there's something thrilling yet calming about adventure, wherever it may be. This week, those adventures took place in Pisa, Lucca, and Perugia.

When you think of Pisa, what's the first thing that comes to mind? Yep! The famous leaning tower (which, by the way, was never intended). The rest of Pisa is usually overshadowed by this, even the cathedral and baptistery to some extent. Anyway, the group and I were lucky enough to have a tour of these monuments, and if you had a whopping 15 euros to spend (:O!!!) you could climb the leaning tower. A couple things about this place were unforgettable to me; first, the baptistery. By itself, it might not seem special to the carefree mind of a young student, but I can guarantee that everyone, young and old, was moved by the sounds made by one of the tour guides inside that building. As he stepped up onto the platform, he began to sing. No, not with words...they were sounds like that of "ohm" and other pleasing octaves. It is impossible to explain the full effect, but it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard in my entire life. The notes bounced off of and between the baptistery dome which caused them to become intensified in a natural, surround-sound kind of way. They entered my ears and went right down to the tips of my toes, filling my soul with vibrations I didn't know existed. Intense shivers crawled down my spine as I closed my eyes to be fully present in those precious, short moments. It was purely magical.

Since I've been here, I've become a huge fan of gold: the way it makes a painting pop and part of a church glimmer in the sun. There is hardly any masterpiece done without some kind of gold leaf work involved. What I love is the intricate detail that exists within each cathedral; the amount of time, effort, patience and talent it took to complete them. All the thought and meaning that is involved when creating something beautiful blows me away. The architecture is just mind-boggling to me--I'm so happy that people valued it so highly and were patient enough to wait 500+ years for one of them to be completed! Inside the cathedral (and the baptistery), there was a pulpit that was ornately crafted and built upon four sculpted lions. These lions represented the faith that made up the foundation for the institution and more deeply, for life. This hit me like a ton of bricks! Faith is something I have always struggled with ever since I was a child. Not only when it comes to religion, but in having faith in life itself; trusting that no matter what happens, I will be taken care of by something larger than myself. On top of this concept, the four lions were nursing their cubs, symbolizing the nurturing and mother-like nature of faith. It made me realize that even if there isn't really a God or an Allah or a Buddha, or any other religious/spiritual figure for that matter, we are all connected; we all want to be nurtured by something outside of our human-ness...we all want somewhere to look when the going gets tough. Whatever path someone chooses to reach this "being" is solely their own and highly personal, and it no longer feels right for me to judge that path. All I need to know is that I am nurtured inside and out by what I choose to believe, and that is good enough for me!

Next came Lucca, the cutest little town ever! The main features of this city are: the wall that completely surrounds it and the old amphitheater that it was built around. It was possibly one of the most relaxing and charming experiences I've had on one of our day trips. I spent the day exploring the city, eating sweet things, speaking in Italian, climbing towers and having great conversations with friends. There was something about Lucca that made it so special, but I can't put my finger on it. Maybe it was the calm and gentle dispositions of every worker in that town, or the peaceful energy resonating within the city walls, but it was different from any other Tuscan town I've visited. I can definitely see myself living there someday!

The next day I had a trip to Perugia solo. Yes, by myself. The story behind the "how" is one of great personal healing, but I have to leave it out due to the third party that was involved. Anyway, I felt compelled to go to Perugia because of the Eurochocolate festival! It was a dream come true; there was chocolate everywhere!! Now, I've had a lot of really good chocolate in my day because of how tasty my grandmother's chocolates are, but this was the best chocolate I have ever tasted in my entire life. The flavors were intense and creamy and perfect. Needless to say the chocolate I bought was gone within five days (and that's even a record for me!). Besides the chocolate, I loved my experience in Perugia because of an art exhibit I found while walking around. I wasn't planning on entering but something told me to so I did, and it was the best decision I made all day! The owner and his assistant were very kind and helpful with the language barrier. The woman showed me around the exhibit, explaining to me in Italian what techniques the artists used and how they were made. It was inspiring to me because it was a technique I had never seen before, but it is possibly the most beautiful technique I have ever laid eyes upon! The colors were beautiful and vibrant, and they all depicted nature in its various forms. My favorites of course were those that donned leaves in swirly designs with striking uses of red and gold and other warm colors. It may sound cheesy, but these pieces of art grabbed me and pulled me in; they spoke to my soul in a way that I've never felt before. I knew that I had a divine appointment with this place so that my creative soul would alight with a new kind of fire; a more intense, hotter fire. I felt alive!

My day around Perugia was rewarding to say the least, but the cherry on top of a great day happened while on the train ride back to Florence. I had grown tired after a full day of eating chocolate and walking around, so for the first half of the ride back home was spent sleeping. How I maintained a deep sleep throughout I cannot tell you--I surprised even myself. When I awoke, I realized that there was a man replacing the young girl who had been there upon departure, sitting straight across from me. I've learned to avert eye contact here, because sometimes just a quick, less-than-half-a-second glance will give a man the wrong impression, so it wasn't until he closed his eyes that I gave him a good look. What I saw made me have to hold in laughter, because he looked almost exactly like a frog. He was dressed in a shiny green jacket with brown slacks that were too short for his legs, revealing matching green socks and sharp-pointed, brown leather shoes. He wore glasses that hung down on the very tip of his bulbous nose and had a tuft of gray hair on the top of his head, and his cheeks hung down past his chin, making his mouth look very small compared to the rest of his face. When he opened his eyes, they were directed right at me, and I saw for once how bug-eyed they really were. His movements were slow and sure, and when he yawned, I half expected to see a long pink tongue shoot out of nowhere to catch a fly or two. Sadly, that didn't happen, but it was one of the most amusing things I've ever seen while riding the train, and it's never been harder to hold in my laughter. The thing that caught me the most off guard was the noise he made after his yawn. It wasn't like the normal sound you would expect someone to make, the one that sounds like a lazy lion's yawn. His was more like a sharp croak that seemed to echo within his throat two more times...exactly like a frog's would sound! The funniest thing about it was that the rest of his face made no change; his facial expression remained the same, as if he had not just made an alarming sound. I had to hide my face and bite my lips together to keep from bursting out into a boisterous guffaw. I'm laughing now just thinking about it...oh boy. He unexpectedly made my day even greater by providing me with such humor!

Within two days I experienced the best chocolate in the world, heard beautiful music, was inspired by amazing artwork, spoke more than two fluent sentences in Italian, and was graced with the presence of an amphibian. I think it's safe to say that I've learned the art of adventure.