Some days in my small town, waiting to hear back from grad schools, I feel like I am going to die of boredom. I know that this is a medical impossibility, but there are times when I feel as if I may make the medical journals and be the first case.
I'm not disparaging my town. It is relatively safe, it is a good place to raise kids, enjoy small town living, or study agriculture. Apparently, the annual World Ag Expo is held one town over, an honor to be sure. But for some one who lives and breathes art, live music, theater, and philosophy I have clearly chosen the wrong town to re-establish residence in proportion to cultural amenities.
As I have mentioned in past blogs I walk to work. It's completely flat, there are copious sidewalks, and frankly I enjoy it. Some days more so than others, but overall, very much so.
Today I was walking home from work and I couldn't help but notice what a truly lovely day it was. The sun was reflecting those gorgeous golden rays that I love, that can only be found in the late afternoon light, the wind danced gently over my bare arms, and the mountains in the Sierra National Forest were clearly visible on the horizon.
I attempt to live by the 19th century French writer Emile Zola's motto, "I am here to live out loud" and I live for those moments when I really feel alive- soaking in the Piazza Navona in Rome, cruising La Brea in L.A., walking the streets of Charleston, South Carolina, etc.,
However, as I was thinking I considered that maybe this time in my life is a small respite before I (hopefully) am swept into the waves of grad school life. I have plenty of time to research at my leisure and while I would give my right arm to live in a big city right now, some days it is nice to live in a small town and the quiet that it affords me.
So, maybe living out loud may be art museums and jazz clubs, but it can also be small pleasure like being able to see the mountains and walking to work. May you too find small pleasures in unexpected places this day and always.
Showing posts with label Piazza Navona. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Piazza Navona. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
A little slice of me & a library review
I don't like my blog to serve as a sordid tell-all kind of e-confessional. I prefer that it remains a more austere, academic type of exercise.
But while I have been composing my heart-rendering statement(s) of purpose for grad school I have been reflecting on how I came to fall in love with the concept of urban planning and I realize that my whole life has been building up to undertake this profession. Permit me, if you will, a minor, flagrant self-indulgence.
As I mentioned earlier, I was first made aware of the official, "academic" discipline while I was an undergrad in Italy and Professor Christian Sottile pointed out various architectural details that reflected different periods and significant events in a city's history. For a history dork and an amateur architecture historian that couldn't have excited me more- you can learn about the history of a city through architectural details- yowie zowie!
My interest continued when I learned that UC Irvine offered a master's degree in urban design and behavior, which piqued the interest of my internal amateur sociologist. My interests have since shifted, I now would like to pursue something with more of a sustainable architecture focus, but the metaphorical seed was definitely planted.
What I have failed to realize is that the seed was planted long and ago and perhaps the events of my life have been leading me to this. I have lived in 11 places (and counting) in 25 years and while I don't have any place that I can honestly say I would call home, except perhaps the Piazza Navona in Rome, I have always been interested in architecture.
For a while I thought that I would major in studying graceful arches, beautifully ornate windows, the romance of a porch that wraps around a stately Victorian home, etc., *swoon* In the town where I spent the majority of my childhood there was a street called Franklin that was flocked by gorgeous old homes that I often wished were mine.
I considered being an architect or a historic preservationist, as both majors were offered at my college. But I never took physics and the HP kids were all a little on the vanilla side.
But the concept of planning a town was exciting to me. My interest really started when the city of Wausau, WI, home to the aforementioned Franklin Street, constructed a new library. Now to most people this fact would not be met with much fanfare. But in the little town of Wausau it was a big deal because there wasn't a lot of major new construction that occurred.
As a little girl I had dreamed of coming to the library as a high schooler and being oh-so-cool, hanging out on the stately front steps, hanging out with my equally cool friends and maybe even my boyfriend. I think I was a cheerleader in these pre-adolescent fantasies and it stood to follow that my boyfriend was the star of the football team. Clearly, my fantasies were grounded in something out of a non-existent 1950's.
Regardless of the fact that I never became a high school cheerleader, it was quite a rude shock to me and my fantasy land of teeny-boppers and malteds when the new library was built and it possessed none of the grace or elegance of the old library. There was no grand staircase leading up to the Pantheon of Learning- just a level concrete walkway, which didn't exactly inspire visions of higher learning. Very ADA-approved, but not very Dead Poets' Society.
The new library was a giant red brick building, with a turret-like side. Not terribly graceful, but not ungainly. Certainly not "moderne," but not reeking of charm so classic that one could put quote marks around it. It's a true reflection of the feel of Wausau- basic, conservative, practical, safe, but not terribly innovative. Resigned, I continued to frequent it, but not with the giddy anticipation I used to. Who knew that something as routine as a new library would shape my career path?
(For a lovely new library, the New Berlin Public Library in New Berlin, WI, a suburb of Milwaukee is quite nice and has a freakishly good selection. I am highly critical of a library's contents, but this one passed muster with old, obscure, and new titles alike. And if you are there, go to Culver's, just down the street for burgers and custard- a little taste of heaven on earth.)
(And for a real treat for the eyes visit the Santa Monica Public Library, which is the first LEED-certified library and is an oversized, "green" version of Starbucks. Not pretentious, but definitely chic- there's an interior outdoor cafe complete with a little brook, an interior theater, and many private reading spots. Highly recommended. Dining recommendations I don't have, but there was a nice cupcake bakery a few streets over. Though I do caution you if you are to indulge in a sweet treat to eat it right away as even on a June gloom day, when I purchased my cupie-cakes, the frosting tended to move towards continental drift when stored in a black Nissan Versa. Still tasty, but not as aesthetically pleasing.)
But while I have been composing my heart-rendering statement(s) of purpose for grad school I have been reflecting on how I came to fall in love with the concept of urban planning and I realize that my whole life has been building up to undertake this profession. Permit me, if you will, a minor, flagrant self-indulgence.
As I mentioned earlier, I was first made aware of the official, "academic" discipline while I was an undergrad in Italy and Professor Christian Sottile pointed out various architectural details that reflected different periods and significant events in a city's history. For a history dork and an amateur architecture historian that couldn't have excited me more- you can learn about the history of a city through architectural details- yowie zowie!
My interest continued when I learned that UC Irvine offered a master's degree in urban design and behavior, which piqued the interest of my internal amateur sociologist. My interests have since shifted, I now would like to pursue something with more of a sustainable architecture focus, but the metaphorical seed was definitely planted.
What I have failed to realize is that the seed was planted long and ago and perhaps the events of my life have been leading me to this. I have lived in 11 places (and counting) in 25 years and while I don't have any place that I can honestly say I would call home, except perhaps the Piazza Navona in Rome, I have always been interested in architecture.
For a while I thought that I would major in studying graceful arches, beautifully ornate windows, the romance of a porch that wraps around a stately Victorian home, etc., *swoon* In the town where I spent the majority of my childhood there was a street called Franklin that was flocked by gorgeous old homes that I often wished were mine.
I considered being an architect or a historic preservationist, as both majors were offered at my college. But I never took physics and the HP kids were all a little on the vanilla side.
But the concept of planning a town was exciting to me. My interest really started when the city of Wausau, WI, home to the aforementioned Franklin Street, constructed a new library. Now to most people this fact would not be met with much fanfare. But in the little town of Wausau it was a big deal because there wasn't a lot of major new construction that occurred.
As a little girl I had dreamed of coming to the library as a high schooler and being oh-so-cool, hanging out on the stately front steps, hanging out with my equally cool friends and maybe even my boyfriend. I think I was a cheerleader in these pre-adolescent fantasies and it stood to follow that my boyfriend was the star of the football team. Clearly, my fantasies were grounded in something out of a non-existent 1950's.
Regardless of the fact that I never became a high school cheerleader, it was quite a rude shock to me and my fantasy land of teeny-boppers and malteds when the new library was built and it possessed none of the grace or elegance of the old library. There was no grand staircase leading up to the Pantheon of Learning- just a level concrete walkway, which didn't exactly inspire visions of higher learning. Very ADA-approved, but not very Dead Poets' Society.
The new library was a giant red brick building, with a turret-like side. Not terribly graceful, but not ungainly. Certainly not "moderne," but not reeking of charm so classic that one could put quote marks around it. It's a true reflection of the feel of Wausau- basic, conservative, practical, safe, but not terribly innovative. Resigned, I continued to frequent it, but not with the giddy anticipation I used to. Who knew that something as routine as a new library would shape my career path?
(For a lovely new library, the New Berlin Public Library in New Berlin, WI, a suburb of Milwaukee is quite nice and has a freakishly good selection. I am highly critical of a library's contents, but this one passed muster with old, obscure, and new titles alike. And if you are there, go to Culver's, just down the street for burgers and custard- a little taste of heaven on earth.)
(And for a real treat for the eyes visit the Santa Monica Public Library, which is the first LEED-certified library and is an oversized, "green" version of Starbucks. Not pretentious, but definitely chic- there's an interior outdoor cafe complete with a little brook, an interior theater, and many private reading spots. Highly recommended. Dining recommendations I don't have, but there was a nice cupcake bakery a few streets over. Though I do caution you if you are to indulge in a sweet treat to eat it right away as even on a June gloom day, when I purchased my cupie-cakes, the frosting tended to move towards continental drift when stored in a black Nissan Versa. Still tasty, but not as aesthetically pleasing.)
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
My favorite place in the whole world
I am constantly searching for "home." Having moved around a lot as a kid, I never really put down roots. I tried one time then had to leave for another place. But when I returned 3 years later I found that too much had changed for it to still feel familiar. Check out John Michlig's blog, Sprawled Out: the Search for Community in the American Suburb, and his post, "Re-visiting my hometown: Wausau, Wisconsin through new eyes" to see what I'm talking about. Man, it's surreal seeing your old, old hometown on someone else's blog.
But then I found "home" in the most unlikely place ever, Rome.
I'd dreamed of going to Rome ever since I was young. And I had the chance to go when I was between my junior and senior years of college. I was able to live in Venice (Venezia), Florence (Firenze), and Rome (Roma) for 1 week each. Unfortunately, I was there for school credit and my professors insisted on getting us up at what felt like the crack of dawn and dragging us all around these magnificent cities. While this process was exhilirating at first, after all who wants to sleep when one can see the canals of Venice in person!? The cradle of the Renaissance, Florence?! By the time I got to Rome I thought I was going to fall over from exhaustion.
Unfortunately, I partook of many a siesta during our free time while in the Eternal City. I was bone-tired, I didn't speak the language, and I was running low on film and suitcase space- the two things I compulsively do when on vacation- take a million pictures and buy stuff. Actually, I do that every day, but it's really bad when I'm in another country :-)
However, I could navigate myself to the Piazza Navona from our hotel, the Alberge del Sole, which was crammed in a little alley just downwind from the Campo de Fiori. I loved the Piazza Navona with Bernini's magnificent personifications of four of the known rivers at that time, the Nile, the Ganges, the Danube, and the Rio de la Plata, housed in his magnificent work, the Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi or "Fountain of the Four Rivers," as they cower beneath the frontal facade of Borromini's church, Sant'Agnese in Agone. (Forgive me, once an art history dork, always an art history dork.)
I love how wide the space felt, like one is standing in a Baroque football field. And I loved the street artists, selling their works and the modest storefronts who deferred to the artistic creations that filled the square.
Then, a few years later, my grandparents offered to take my mom and myself to Italy with them. I lept at the change, though acutely distressed at the thought that I would not past muster in regards to navigating as we would spend the majority of our time in Rome, the city with which I was the least familiar. Though if you want a quiet bed, I know just the place, double entendres aside.
But somehow I did it. Downtown Rome is actually not terribly difficult to navigate, there are several main streets that wind around this magnificent city and this makes orienting one's self significantly easier, even if you don't speak the language, which I still didn't the second time around.
And I felt such a rush taking them from the Campo dei Fiori where we were dropped off, and pointing out with pride the restaurant, Heartbreakers, where I enjoyed a delectable spaghetti carbonara and then walking down the small, cramped alley in which my old hotel was still wedged, then crossing the Vittorio Emmanuele and making my way back "home. "
It was all still there, the Church, the Fountain, the other fountains, the restaurants, etc., It's funny, something in Italy is always under construction and when I was there the first time Sant'Agnese in Agone was covered under plastic and scaffolding. The second time it was the Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi that was shrouded. This couldn't take away from the gorgeous site that is and hopefully will always be the Piazza Navona.
It's hard to explain, but it just felt like home to me. I suppose it's like true love, when you find it, you just know. Or that's what Hollywood would like me to believe.
For anyone who cares, yes, the Piazza Navona was cited in Dan Brown's book, Angels and Demons. According to Wikipedia, it will also be used in the forthcoming movie. You can also see it in Mike Nichols' cinematic adaptation of Catch-22 and it was in the 1990 version of Coins in the Fountain. The 1954 version used the Trevi Fountain. (information provided by Wikipedia)
But please see it in person! You will not regret it! And try not to think about how your taxi driver probably took you on the most roundabout, i.e. unnecessarily expensive, taxi ride to get you there. This isn't NY, it's Italy! You may never return- cough up that euro and go see some art!
But then I found "home" in the most unlikely place ever, Rome.
I'd dreamed of going to Rome ever since I was young. And I had the chance to go when I was between my junior and senior years of college. I was able to live in Venice (Venezia), Florence (Firenze), and Rome (Roma) for 1 week each. Unfortunately, I was there for school credit and my professors insisted on getting us up at what felt like the crack of dawn and dragging us all around these magnificent cities. While this process was exhilirating at first, after all who wants to sleep when one can see the canals of Venice in person!? The cradle of the Renaissance, Florence?! By the time I got to Rome I thought I was going to fall over from exhaustion.
Unfortunately, I partook of many a siesta during our free time while in the Eternal City. I was bone-tired, I didn't speak the language, and I was running low on film and suitcase space- the two things I compulsively do when on vacation- take a million pictures and buy stuff. Actually, I do that every day, but it's really bad when I'm in another country :-)
However, I could navigate myself to the Piazza Navona from our hotel, the Alberge del Sole, which was crammed in a little alley just downwind from the Campo de Fiori. I loved the Piazza Navona with Bernini's magnificent personifications of four of the known rivers at that time, the Nile, the Ganges, the Danube, and the Rio de la Plata, housed in his magnificent work, the Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi or "Fountain of the Four Rivers," as they cower beneath the frontal facade of Borromini's church, Sant'Agnese in Agone. (Forgive me, once an art history dork, always an art history dork.)
I love how wide the space felt, like one is standing in a Baroque football field. And I loved the street artists, selling their works and the modest storefronts who deferred to the artistic creations that filled the square.
Then, a few years later, my grandparents offered to take my mom and myself to Italy with them. I lept at the change, though acutely distressed at the thought that I would not past muster in regards to navigating as we would spend the majority of our time in Rome, the city with which I was the least familiar. Though if you want a quiet bed, I know just the place, double entendres aside.
But somehow I did it. Downtown Rome is actually not terribly difficult to navigate, there are several main streets that wind around this magnificent city and this makes orienting one's self significantly easier, even if you don't speak the language, which I still didn't the second time around.
And I felt such a rush taking them from the Campo dei Fiori where we were dropped off, and pointing out with pride the restaurant, Heartbreakers, where I enjoyed a delectable spaghetti carbonara and then walking down the small, cramped alley in which my old hotel was still wedged, then crossing the Vittorio Emmanuele and making my way back "home. "
It was all still there, the Church, the Fountain, the other fountains, the restaurants, etc., It's funny, something in Italy is always under construction and when I was there the first time Sant'Agnese in Agone was covered under plastic and scaffolding. The second time it was the Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi that was shrouded. This couldn't take away from the gorgeous site that is and hopefully will always be the Piazza Navona.
It's hard to explain, but it just felt like home to me. I suppose it's like true love, when you find it, you just know. Or that's what Hollywood would like me to believe.
For anyone who cares, yes, the Piazza Navona was cited in Dan Brown's book, Angels and Demons. According to Wikipedia, it will also be used in the forthcoming movie. You can also see it in Mike Nichols' cinematic adaptation of Catch-22 and it was in the 1990 version of Coins in the Fountain. The 1954 version used the Trevi Fountain. (information provided by Wikipedia)
But please see it in person! You will not regret it! And try not to think about how your taxi driver probably took you on the most roundabout, i.e. unnecessarily expensive, taxi ride to get you there. This isn't NY, it's Italy! You may never return- cough up that euro and go see some art!
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