A bunch of Silliness

Tuesday, 2/25/03
I omitted one important thing about my day alone in Rome. When I was getting ready to leave Trevi Fountain I passed a street violinist. I have never felt so guilty about not giving money before, but I just can't afford it. His music was so beautiful. He was playing a violin solo rom an adagio I forgot the name of, but is in the movie Gallipoli [Albinoni's Adagio in G minor]. I'll have to listen to it when I get home. It's one of my favorite pieces. The violinist nearly brought tears to my eyes. I couldn't move for a few minutes; I just stood still right around the corner from where he was playing. I think street musicians may be the thing I love best about Rome.

Yesterday--not much to write about. I sketched my pine cones a little bit in the morning. I went to studio and am still genuinely frustrated. And now I know that everyone else is, too. I was going to try doing studio work in the evening too, but Valerie came in and we watched The Man in the Iron Mask in Italian. I can't help making fun of movies like that. They take themselves so seriously, yest change the book plot, Americanizing it just enough to make it cheap. The Man in the Iron Mask has to have that "I am your father" complex. Come to think of it, so does The Count of Monte Cristo. And Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves has "I am your brother". What soaps!

I'm sitting in class right now (I'm getting really sick of that dang hill) and I haven't written a thing down. I was late so I didn't get a handout, and I never caught the gist of what Paolo is talking about. Of course, dividing my attention with my journal hasn't helped any. Edit and I are sitting with our backs to the heater. Ritter Sport chocolate is the best I have ever tasted, let it be known.

I am going to discover what really is at the end of the rainbow. I don't think it is a pot of gold. That's just figurative. Kate has already been there. She says it's a pot of gold, but I don't believe her. I'm going to find it!

I bought a new journal this afternoon! No offense, but I never have liked this one very much. I only brought it because it was the only small one I had. By the end of the week this one should be full. My new one says "Made in Italy" and the cover has Leonardo DaVinci's sketches on it. It's very exciting.

Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds
Or bends with the remover to remove
Oh no, it is an ever fixed mark
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken!

"Who is reading Shakespeare's sonnets?"
"Marianne is reading them aloud to us."
"And which are your favorites?"
"Mine is without a doubt, one hundred and sixteen."
"Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love..."

What bliss!

It comes to this! I love writing, I always have. I know now I always will. If you tell me I must be an architect in ten years, please believe I will be dead by Michaelmas.

Am I trying to fill this journal with nonsense so I can get to my new one faster? Probably.
Am I thoroughly enjoying it? Most definitely.

I am more optimistic about studio this evening (I only hope it will last). I've decided that if I can't get together what Peter wants me to do, I will just do my own thing and be happy with it. I came to that conclusion because in mixed media this afternoon I was stressing when Paolo critiqued my work, but as soon as he left I started enjoying myself with weird pictures.

A while ago there was a party on the roof. One girl brought out her speakers and a bunch of others started dancing. Then they got drunker and all went up the roof. I joined them to take pictures. It was a spectacle for spectating. I mostly just stood around with the guys. I would have danced but I didn't want to in my coat, and if I took it off I would have to get jamming fast to warm up. And if I am going to lose my self-consciousness enough to dance, it has to be gradual. I've never seen someone dance with a cigarette in one hand and a pitcher of wine in the other!