1. Right now I think. Of Italian culture. Of Tuscany. Of influence. I came to Italy hoping to escape influence and yet, it is here as well. I soeak British now.
Italy is a land influenced. The south by North Africa. Sardinia by Spain. The North by Germany and Switzerland. Yet in Tuscany there is pure Italian. Influenced by self. They have accomplished whqt I wish to.
2. I sit and read. I learn and become. I stare at antique places with such joy. Why is it I am so content looking at old things. What makes them beautiful. What makes them better than the things we creat today.
From Nabokov's book Speak Memory: "The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness. Although the two are identical twins, man, as a rule, views the prenatal abyss with more calm than the one he is heading for ( at some forty five heartbeats an hour.)
This must be why. The tangible items were here before me. The calm. They will be here after me. The need for wine.
3. Wow the bell tower as I sit in the main square. Nothing extraordinary in Italian standards, yet it still makes me appreciate this time. This lunch break in a magnificent square. I will not have lunch in piazza when I return to the US so now I read. I enjoy. I relax. I admire.
4. On the bus on the way to town, to buy my bus pass :/ A woman started to talk with me. She appreciated the US very much. But she loved her Italy. She told me when Italians speak it is as if you are listening to them sing. What must it be like to love your culture, your language, your country, your life so much. This is one thing I must discover about myself. To love where I am from, and not look back on it with a disgust.
5. Campanilismo. A word for people that live within the sound of the bell. The bell from the main church if town. They surround their lives by a sense of community. A home in Tuscany.
6. I had it explained to me by a high level student today. The differences in America and Italy boil down to the differences in thinking. He said Americans are young, even old Americans. We have youth inside us, that I believes comes from the desires and dreams we milk all the time. We want to be better, always. I have not decided if this is a good thing.
Italians on the other hand, are old. Even the young Italians. They have a traditional sense to just enjoy food, or language, or art. Not striving to be better, but just a contentment with this time. La Dolce Vita.
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