another interruption...

16 November 2009

Me and my interruptions… so it’s taking far longer than I expected to upload all of those fall break pictures… I’m doing the best I can to provide an uninterrupted narrative of all of these crazy adventures, but realize that I’m somewhat lagging in the timeliness aspect…

I did, however, want to take the chance to describe a few events from my contemporary Florence class, and just how they’ve impacted me in the past few weeks…

So, you know that picture of Italy that you get when you close your eyes and make-believe that there is such a thing as perfection? Well, I think I’ve found it… it’s located in the section of Florence known as the Oltrarno… the other side of the Arno… it’s a world where time seems to stop, where nothing modern matters, only tradition and passion… it’s a world where you can forget every bit of modern struggle, and simply exist.

For my contemporary Florence class, E took K and I to several traditional businesses located in the Oltrarno district (specifically San Frediano)… we got to see people living their lives in a way that hasn’t changed for hundreds of years… the old world feel of the whole experience gave me goosebumps…

One of the most memorable moments of that class was our meeting with an old blacksmith… he wass short, jolly, course, and spoke with a thick Florentine accent (the Bostonian equivalent of someone who’s lived in Southie or Revere their entire lives) that neither K nor I could completely understand… what I did understand though, was his story… it wasn’t just an explanation of his job, but rather, who he is… because for him, the two are so intertwined the meanings have become inseparable. He’s a blacksmith by trade, who worked his way up from apprentice to master… he’s traveled all over the world for commissions and experience… he makes beautiful metal sculptures and rod-iron structures by hand… even his tools have the same aged course look as his face… underneath all of that soot and grease was an unmistakable sparkle that lit up his face… it was his love of life… when asked why he was creating a particular piece, he said because he wanted to… there was no commission… if someone bought it, wonderful… if not, well, he’d find it a good home somewhere in his own house… but he could not stress enough the importance of love in his work… he does things the traditional way, not because he couldn’t employ new technologies, but because this is who he is – he creates. We spent over an hour just sitting and listening to him speak about the good old days when people knew how to wait for art… now, his commissions are fewer and far between, because people want things done and delivered yesterday… and without any quirky imperfections… his pieces may not be cookie cutter perfect, but they all have the same sparkle shining in his eyes…

After some time, he invited K, E, and myself to take a break with him, and go get coffee… where he not only proceeded to buy us coffee and pizza, but further regaled us with stories of his youth (most often translated through E… that accent was even thicker the more animated he became…)

It’s these experiences that I’ll remember Italy by… not the museums, shops, and gifts, but the moments that leave a lasting impression… every now and again, all I can think of is how much I admire that little old blacksmith, and his passion… that’s who I want to be like… fifty and sixty years from now, I want to be living life with as much fervor and passion as that old Florentine…

Its moments like these that make me remember what’s really important… who knew all it took was crossing a river…