On Tuesdays, I take the 4:15 pm bus home. I love this bus. It is filled to capacity, in American standards. It reminds me of Roma: damp bodies smashed together, semi-chaotic. “Ma’am I’m sorry you can’t ride this bus, it’s too full, nobody behind the line.”
“It’s OK! They can squish together,” I tell him.
My body is trained now: I know how to bend my knees, limp my body, shift my weight into the turns, bumps, accelerations, and brakes, and how to hold the bars properly. Look like I’m minding my own business, when in fact, I’m attempting to eavesdrop on as much as possible. In Roma, less seats, more people. It’s fun to watch how uncomfortable Americans are in crammed buses. (And really, it’s not that cramped). And even more fun, yet appalling, to notice how many American men my age do not give up their seat. In fact, I will give up my seat to a man with crutches before someone else does. In Italia, we ride together; in America, we ride separately in the same bus.
In Italia, the bus is an adventure: too many people, too many buses it becomes impossible to know which one to take, and vague stops. Should I buy a ticket for the bus or not? They can’t possibly check when there are 80 people on a bus. But if I get caught, it’s 35 euro. Everything is a decision in Italy; every decision carries various factors; it’s all worth pondering. I’ll get to where I need to be, make a friend or two while waiting for the bus or conversating on the bus, and have fun all at the same time. In Italia, we ride together; in America, we ride separately in the same bus.
February 20, 2007
February 18, 2007
February 12, 2007
siena, july 2006
eating figs.
we ate like the romans.
paolo pulled back the flesh. we pulled at the flesh. we ate the pulp. i let it drip down my chin.
he fed me the fruit. he fed me my heart.
______________
the love i feel.... it's different in italy. it's better. passion becomes undeniable, filling every cell in my body. smiling and giggling naturally follow. i feel comfortable in my own skin.
in usa, i am deemed obsessive and crazy. in italy, i'm simply passionate. andy said one day i would meet someone who appreciated my "intensity." allora....
February 11, 2007
la megliore cena
this evening was by far the best italian dinner i've ever made. one of my friends, peter, lived in italy for 4 months as a study abroad. he hates beans; he ate them tonight. he even said, "meglio del sesso!!"
and this dinner sort of solidifies it for me. i've learned i'm no longer to say "i want to move to italy." instead i say "when i move to italy. or i will move to italy." i will begin the affirmations. beginning late last night and into today, i began to have distinct and vivid visions of italy. of my time there l'estate passato. how i used to call to paolo: mano mano mano mano mano!!! for to hold his hand. e poi, the back streets of napoli. how i took the subway back and forth. the multitude of street vendors. the anonymity. the joviality; the warthm; the closed down chiese (perchè??); the shoes i wanted but didn't buy; the ubiquity of dead sea creatures; unknown vias; strangers offering me dinner, caffè. and i think about what i shall name my children.
stasera, cucino:
attending guests:
shawna, zac, peter, ian
and this dinner sort of solidifies it for me. i've learned i'm no longer to say "i want to move to italy." instead i say "when i move to italy. or i will move to italy." i will begin the affirmations. beginning late last night and into today, i began to have distinct and vivid visions of italy. of my time there l'estate passato. how i used to call to paolo: mano mano mano mano mano!!! for to hold his hand. e poi, the back streets of napoli. how i took the subway back and forth. the multitude of street vendors. the anonymity. the joviality; the warthm; the closed down chiese (perchè??); the shoes i wanted but didn't buy; the ubiquity of dead sea creatures; unknown vias; strangers offering me dinner, caffè. and i think about what i shall name my children.
stasera, cucino:
attending guests:
shawna, zac, peter, ian
February 8, 2007
dear italy,
Dear Italy,
i think i started the school year wrong. you see, i'm letting things get to me. i'm letting me miss you. because i know right now you are still warm, the people are kind, and your food is fresh. i won't see you till june, maybe even july. i'm so sorry i left you, and i cannot wait to return. it's that i have to finish school. and i begin learning your language soon. because i want to curl up inside you and reside there. i'm so sorry i've been angry. i should have done what you told me to. i should have let go. i should be enjoying. (la prima lettera di 26 settembre)
e oggi (la seconda lettera):
dear italy,
i guess i feel compelled to thank you. for reminding me what passion really is. and that it is ok. for reminding me that american taboos are stupid and damaging. you make me want to be better. you make me inspired to educate myself, to demand a voice! you remind me that i have to fight for all the people. that i cannot let go of my ideals, of all the politics. love is crazy. and intuition... i must necessarily follow it. voglio essere una moglie e una madre e una artista. e con tu, so potere. ti amo.
non vedo l'ora di ti vedo ancora!!!! solo quattro mese!!
a presto,
tua rachelmaria.
i think i started the school year wrong. you see, i'm letting things get to me. i'm letting me miss you. because i know right now you are still warm, the people are kind, and your food is fresh. i won't see you till june, maybe even july. i'm so sorry i left you, and i cannot wait to return. it's that i have to finish school. and i begin learning your language soon. because i want to curl up inside you and reside there. i'm so sorry i've been angry. i should have done what you told me to. i should have let go. i should be enjoying. (la prima lettera di 26 settembre)
e oggi (la seconda lettera):
dear italy,
i guess i feel compelled to thank you. for reminding me what passion really is. and that it is ok. for reminding me that american taboos are stupid and damaging. you make me want to be better. you make me inspired to educate myself, to demand a voice! you remind me that i have to fight for all the people. that i cannot let go of my ideals, of all the politics. love is crazy. and intuition... i must necessarily follow it. voglio essere una moglie e una madre e una artista. e con tu, so potere. ti amo.
non vedo l'ora di ti vedo ancora!!!! solo quattro mese!!
a presto,
tua rachelmaria.
February 7, 2007
blog statement
i think i had it figured out last night. at least most of it. but i talked about it, i didn’t write it. and now i have to remember, which seems so easy and so difficult at the same time.
i’m lost. what the fuck am i doing in this town? i mean… i know: going to grad school, getting my MFA. but italy changed everything. now i bide my time, wait to flee the country. to go and be happy. to go enjoy. i wonder if this is making sense.
i was named after my great grandmother, from the island of capri. falling in love in italy is much different; it feels more real. and it was. so i’ve rearranged my life: i’m learning the language, talking to the people, cooking the food, and spending as much time there (instead of here) as is possible. this is not easy: pretending you are somewhere you are not.
i will find my family; i will find my self.
and so, i have a writer friend in napoli. fabio says: “i'm a writer. searching for a lenguage-brigde between body and letters(madness).” when i read his words, i’m overwhelmed with inspiration. i’m fascinated with the language we have created together, and the connection made through a spoken and unspoken understanding. there is an understanding that i have not felt before, a longing. and for now, this placates me and my sadness.
do you know i've never missed anything so much in my life? not even oklahoma. i want to touch every inch of that country. i want to curl back up into his bed and i want anna to hold me as if i were her own. i want to walk the whole city with blisters and twisted ankles. i want to squish into the pockets of space in the buses. i want gnocchi and soccer and bicchieres of wine and confusion and giggling uncontrollably and strange showers and gelato every afternoon and sunshine and all the chaos. i want italian children.
in italy, i feel weightless, i feel carefree, i feel happy and beautiful and drenched in sun. i feel healthy, loved, loving and in love, ready and spontaneous. curious, a little hesitant, but devoted. i feel at home. and in this collaboration, i have potential to feel those things again. in this collaboration, there is potential. for understanding everything. for knowing all the stories.
i’m lost. what the fuck am i doing in this town? i mean… i know: going to grad school, getting my MFA. but italy changed everything. now i bide my time, wait to flee the country. to go and be happy. to go enjoy. i wonder if this is making sense.
i was named after my great grandmother, from the island of capri. falling in love in italy is much different; it feels more real. and it was. so i’ve rearranged my life: i’m learning the language, talking to the people, cooking the food, and spending as much time there (instead of here) as is possible. this is not easy: pretending you are somewhere you are not.
i will find my family; i will find my self.
and so, i have a writer friend in napoli. fabio says: “i'm a writer. searching for a lenguage-brigde between body and letters(madness).” when i read his words, i’m overwhelmed with inspiration. i’m fascinated with the language we have created together, and the connection made through a spoken and unspoken understanding. there is an understanding that i have not felt before, a longing. and for now, this placates me and my sadness.
do you know i've never missed anything so much in my life? not even oklahoma. i want to touch every inch of that country. i want to curl back up into his bed and i want anna to hold me as if i were her own. i want to walk the whole city with blisters and twisted ankles. i want to squish into the pockets of space in the buses. i want gnocchi and soccer and bicchieres of wine and confusion and giggling uncontrollably and strange showers and gelato every afternoon and sunshine and all the chaos. i want italian children.
in italy, i feel weightless, i feel carefree, i feel happy and beautiful and drenched in sun. i feel healthy, loved, loving and in love, ready and spontaneous. curious, a little hesitant, but devoted. i feel at home. and in this collaboration, i have potential to feel those things again. in this collaboration, there is potential. for understanding everything. for knowing all the stories.
February 3, 2007
la collaborazione
fabio scrive:
The reality I see is the reality and that is
the words: every single piece - fragment -
it is the
restlessness of the word.
I love going around for the city and to see
men's pieces thrown to earth,
decrepit buildings,
marginal fragments, the fragmented literature and
discontinuous it reflects itself in the fragmented reality and
discontinuous. it is advanced for explosions and I don't believe in the
history in any form of unity. the totality that reality embraces is
exploded, fragmented.
e io faccio:
fabio scrive:
I love walking alone for the city looking for my
shadowriting. it is an intense period of my life. I don't love to be
firm. And I walk in my black coat, and working on the street thinking
also at your pictures. I building something but I need time. And we
have time for our collaboration.
e io faccio:
quando passeggiato, penso a fabio e le sue parole. e poi, ho visto questa! la donna più bella, ballante. unexpected, overwhelmed: it was the time that my words could not be used and instead my eyes and fingers.
The reality I see is the reality and that is
the words: every single piece - fragment -
it is the
restlessness of the word.
I love going around for the city and to see
men's pieces thrown to earth,
decrepit buildings,
marginal fragments, the fragmented literature and
discontinuous it reflects itself in the fragmented reality and
discontinuous. it is advanced for explosions and I don't believe in the
history in any form of unity. the totality that reality embraces is
exploded, fragmented.
e io faccio:
fabio scrive:
I love walking alone for the city looking for my
shadowriting. it is an intense period of my life. I don't love to be
firm. And I walk in my black coat, and working on the street thinking
also at your pictures. I building something but I need time. And we
have time for our collaboration.
e io faccio:
quando passeggiato, penso a fabio e le sue parole. e poi, ho visto questa! la donna più bella, ballante. unexpected, overwhelmed: it was the time that my words could not be used and instead my eyes and fingers.
February 1, 2007
le attese
sometimes i am overcome with desire. and longing. i have phantom throbbing. like i will crawl out from beneath my skin. i want to scream and shimmy shake. today ann told me to give myself permission. to let go. in fact, she gave me her permission too. perhaps she knew i didn't have the strength to do it for myself.
why can't i let go?? why can't i just let myself enjoy this? dimmi dimmi dimmi, perchè no lo so. dimmi che mi ami. dimmi che sono OK. dimmi che sono vivo.
and don't tell me there's something poetic about the awkward silences.
why can't i let go?? why can't i just let myself enjoy this? dimmi dimmi dimmi, perchè no lo so. dimmi che mi ami. dimmi che sono OK. dimmi che sono vivo.
and don't tell me there's something poetic about the awkward silences.
January 30, 2007
cena italiana
a project i laxadaisically forgot to mention: cooking italian dinner at least once a week. so far i've only documented one of the dinners (one of three). this is problematic: how do i discuss my art project without documentation of it? how do i prove it was art? how do others discuss it? because what i realize is: it's so much more about being than proving.
sometimes i'm overwhelmed with ideas. sometimes i'm dry as a desert for weeks. both are exhausting. thinking is exhausting. feeling sad and frustratd and busy and lonely are all so exhausting. and then today i realized i wanted thai curry more than anything else. (eastern food has always been my comfort food.)
here's the menu so far.
jan. 19 Fettuccine with Marscapone, Toasted Walnuts and Basil
jan. 26 Fussili with Carmelized Onions and Walnuts
jan. 27 Fennel Soup
sometimes i'm overwhelmed with ideas. sometimes i'm dry as a desert for weeks. both are exhausting. thinking is exhausting. feeling sad and frustratd and busy and lonely are all so exhausting. and then today i realized i wanted thai curry more than anything else. (eastern food has always been my comfort food.)
here's the menu so far.
jan. 19 Fettuccine with Marscapone, Toasted Walnuts and Basil
jan. 26 Fussili with Carmelized Onions and Walnuts
jan. 27 Fennel Soup
January 29, 2007
January 28, 2007
January 25, 2007
pomegranate premonition
today was a ridiculously lousy day. by 4 pm i realized that i simply could not not eat a pomegranate. season is over. i only have two (now one) left. it's like they must be preserved until next year, or an emergency.
i cut it open. but it was different this time. it was like it knew i had begun bleeding. and it bled that much more. for me. like sympathy pains, sympathy bleeding. i peeled away all the seeds, out of the water this time. they plucked off the dry skin so easily. it was a mess. the blood splattered up onto my hands, arms, and sweatshirt. almost violent. almost.
inside the fruit are all my ancestors. all the women of italy. and we come together. we bled. and then healed.
i cut it open. but it was different this time. it was like it knew i had begun bleeding. and it bled that much more. for me. like sympathy pains, sympathy bleeding. i peeled away all the seeds, out of the water this time. they plucked off the dry skin so easily. it was a mess. the blood splattered up onto my hands, arms, and sweatshirt. almost violent. almost.
inside the fruit are all my ancestors. all the women of italy. and we come together. we bled. and then healed.
January 23, 2007
meeting neighbors
tonight i had italian lessons. they are going well, thanks for asking. and do you know who i met?? alisse! and do you know where she is from??? NETTUNO!! perchè è questo importante? mi domandi. perchè è la città next to anzio, dove la famiglia di paolo hanno una casa di estate vicino il mare. in fact, i was in nettuno last summer. allora, i will have to go next summer. perhaps we can meet up. pazzo!! small world...
January 20, 2007
January 18, 2007
but more about the neck-laces
i've never been a great swimmer. i was one of the irrational secretive ones that still believed there were sharks in the chlorinated pools of neighbors. ironically, i spent many summers as a child going to the beach without any worries. and these were the beaches with man-of-war monitor lifeguards. as i got older, (free) swimming pools seemed less acessible (not to mention gross). but when i went to italy, and especially when i went to capri, i was determined to swim in the ocean again. (although, paolo insists on reminding me it's only a sea.) and so, i absorbed the salt that had once absorbed into my great grandmother. i've spent my entire life staring at a painting of her swimming that tyrrhenian sea. the current is strong, the beaches are rocky, but it was fantastic. italians swim like fish. i have to practice. italians tan ridiculously well. that one i will practice less.
napoli is the main medium to capri. paolo and i had a terrible fight before i left for napoli. we thought it was over. on the day that i decided to call him and tell him i still loved him, i walked down to the beach. i bought a stick of corn and sat way out on the rocks. i watched the men swim. now that i am home, i stare at my maps on the wall (and write cute stories). i stare at napoli every day.
"did i ever tell you that album is simply fantastic? you know i was never a huge fan. but this album. because his voice rattles inside my body. it's the perfect album for motion. for travel. like rising and falling. listening on the trains. walking on the sidewalks in naples. and i watched the lovers. i watched the sea. i ate corn and sat on those rocks. i laughed out into the sea at all the bullshit that piled up. because i had let go. goddamnit i had let go. i was only full of love. and i watched all the people walking, fishing, driving wrecklessly, the men swimming out in the sea where i would never go for all my stupid fears. i felt the air on my skin. and i truly felt whole. i always feel strange when i listen to this album."
napoli is the main medium to capri. paolo and i had a terrible fight before i left for napoli. we thought it was over. on the day that i decided to call him and tell him i still loved him, i walked down to the beach. i bought a stick of corn and sat way out on the rocks. i watched the men swim. now that i am home, i stare at my maps on the wall (and write cute stories). i stare at napoli every day.
"did i ever tell you that album is simply fantastic? you know i was never a huge fan. but this album. because his voice rattles inside my body. it's the perfect album for motion. for travel. like rising and falling. listening on the trains. walking on the sidewalks in naples. and i watched the lovers. i watched the sea. i ate corn and sat on those rocks. i laughed out into the sea at all the bullshit that piled up. because i had let go. goddamnit i had let go. i was only full of love. and i watched all the people walking, fishing, driving wrecklessly, the men swimming out in the sea where i would never go for all my stupid fears. i felt the air on my skin. and i truly felt whole. i always feel strange when i listen to this album."
January 16, 2007
January 12, 2007
flesh and blood
my most favorite painting of rosina (that i have seen so far)
p.s. posting becomes slightly more difficult after red wine consumption
January 11, 2007
tutoring
i found a tutor. christina.
tues 3-4 pm
fri 11a-12 p
$15/hr reduced rate for poor gta
plus, i might get a job shooting portraits for her in exchange for lessons. i turned down the wedding request.
tues 3-4 pm
fri 11a-12 p
$15/hr reduced rate for poor gta
plus, i might get a job shooting portraits for her in exchange for lessons. i turned down the wedding request.
first letter
Delbert,
Hello, my name is Rachel (Maria Bernardo) James. I am a graduate student of art at the Ohio State University, and am seeking your help.
Maybe you recognize my middle names. They are the names of my great grandmother, Maria (Primavera) Bernardo. I am the daughter of Laura Bernardo, daughter of J.T. Bernardo. I am attempting to resurface the history of my family, perhaps even find family in Italy, although I know they have left the island (making things a tad more difficult).
I do not know much about you. I know that you are the great grandson of Barse’s sister (just as I am the great granddaughter of his model). I know that you worked in Rome for some time, and that you compiled a manuscript. I am writing to ask about the manuscript you compiled in 1980 of the letters Barse wrote his family during his study in Capri. I am of course interested in the story, but also the names of people that might also be in these letters. I know a few family members that have this manuscript, but I am writing to ask if you perhaps have transferred this manuscript to a digital file. If so, would it be too much to ask for you to email me those files? As I get older, more and more is beginning to unfold about my family and my past. It is my intention to know as much as I can. I will be in Italy for the summer, and have plans to move there once I graduate.
If you are curious about my artwork and what I am doing, feel free to ask. My work has been focused on identity for several years now, and this seems to be another extension of that. My ideas for my thesis so far seem to change, but they always seem to be about Italian women. Right now I am beginning to archive photographs of my great grandmother, learn why I was named for her, study Italian, interview family members, try to find this manuscript, and eventually find family.
I am attaching a picture that I found in Ma’s photo album. It was from August 1982. I would have been seven months old at the time. It is great grandma with you and your wife, Kristin. (I apologize for the poor quality scan – I used the cheapy one I have at home, instead of going up to school. Ha!)
I have other questions, as well, but I figured this would be a beginning point. I look forward to hearing from you. Your help is appreciated more than you realize.
Grazie Mille,
rachelmaria
Hello, my name is Rachel (Maria Bernardo) James. I am a graduate student of art at the Ohio State University, and am seeking your help.
Maybe you recognize my middle names. They are the names of my great grandmother, Maria (Primavera) Bernardo. I am the daughter of Laura Bernardo, daughter of J.T. Bernardo. I am attempting to resurface the history of my family, perhaps even find family in Italy, although I know they have left the island (making things a tad more difficult).
I do not know much about you. I know that you are the great grandson of Barse’s sister (just as I am the great granddaughter of his model). I know that you worked in Rome for some time, and that you compiled a manuscript. I am writing to ask about the manuscript you compiled in 1980 of the letters Barse wrote his family during his study in Capri. I am of course interested in the story, but also the names of people that might also be in these letters. I know a few family members that have this manuscript, but I am writing to ask if you perhaps have transferred this manuscript to a digital file. If so, would it be too much to ask for you to email me those files? As I get older, more and more is beginning to unfold about my family and my past. It is my intention to know as much as I can. I will be in Italy for the summer, and have plans to move there once I graduate.
If you are curious about my artwork and what I am doing, feel free to ask. My work has been focused on identity for several years now, and this seems to be another extension of that. My ideas for my thesis so far seem to change, but they always seem to be about Italian women. Right now I am beginning to archive photographs of my great grandmother, learn why I was named for her, study Italian, interview family members, try to find this manuscript, and eventually find family.
I am attaching a picture that I found in Ma’s photo album. It was from August 1982. I would have been seven months old at the time. It is great grandma with you and your wife, Kristin. (I apologize for the poor quality scan – I used the cheapy one I have at home, instead of going up to school. Ha!)
I have other questions, as well, but I figured this would be a beginning point. I look forward to hearing from you. Your help is appreciated more than you realize.
Grazie Mille,
rachelmaria
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