Saint Peter in Chains

I took a quick jaunt the other day to see Michelangelo’s Moses.


(I just love how I can do that; just duck off to see something incredible)

Most people forget that he is actually a piece of some pope’s tomb.

Of course, I had seen pictures of the statue, and right now you are looking at yet another picture, but I never really grasped how great it is. It really is true that you have to see it in person to truly appreciate it, because it is a sculpture, not a painting. It is 3D, not 2D. You have to move around it, see it from different angles, measure yourself against it, realize, “Oh, gee. This is It,” to get the full effect.

The church itself was actually very quiet, but beautiful. When I visited for morning mass a few days later, there were only a few old people there for the mass, plus someone quietly sweeping the floor. Later in the day, groups come to snap pictures, but they left fairly quickly since the rest of the church is… well… bare by Roman standards.

I actually really enjoyed it.

Oh, and by the way, below the alter is a display with the iron manacles supposedly worn by Saint Peter on two different occasions.

…Hence the name of the Church. Priorities, people.

~Maria

Potabile

Rome has plenty of spectacular sights, but it is full of little things that are just plain cool, too. One of these things is its water system. Not only does it still draw huge amounts of its water from the aqueducts built by the Romans, but all the water in the constantly running fountains found at every turn are drinkable.

I don’t just mean the decorative fountains. I have drunk from the Fontana di Trevi, true, but I mean that there are ancient drinking fountains everywhere.

They are about waist high.

Most have a notch, so that if you block the spout with your finger, a stream shoots up from the joint of the spout like a modern drinking fountain.

This is quite amusing to watch, because the water pressure is pretty darn strong, and there are always enough foreigners who don’t have the skill to direct the water properly to give hysterics to the passer-by.

A few of the fountains have a spout in the shape of an animal.

I think it is supposed to be the mother wolf of Romulus and Remus, but I always think “bear” when I see it.

The water is cold and delicious, not to mention much cheaper than bottled water.

-Maria

Happy Birthday to Me!

I am now 21 years old. Cool.

Would you like to see the presents I have gotten today?

The paper is a rhyming list of 21 things about me that Cassie at least, the poet, loves about me. It references so many things in our short life together, that regardless of how sincere it may be, I can't help feeling like it is one of the most thoughtful gifts I have ever received in my entire life.

The roses are from Max. (And just so you don't feel the urge to do any romantic fantisizing, he is presently in a wonderful relationship with a girl he is very much in love with, so the roses are only a tribute to his romantic nature.)

Oh, and I am wearing a necklace made by my sister that has been labeled "kickass" by my fellow housemates.

Oh, and I am in Rome right now.

My life so great!
~Maria

Halloween in Rome

... does not exist.

No, wait, I take it back. The day before, I saw a little girl with a devil horn headband. A few of my compatriots also promised that they saw a store with Halloween costumes, but if you were a woman, you had a choice between "witch" or "bride," so what does that tell you?

I carved a very expensive pumpkin because it was Halloween, darn it.

Snapshots

+everyday as we walk to school, groups in pristine lab coats, smoking delicately

+tall tables in tiny cafes, proudly devoid of chairs, the perfect height for elbows supporting a shot-glass of expresso

+two men chasing pigeons from the ancient carvings about the doorway: one wielding a laser pointer, the other clapping two blocks of wood

+holy haste: a small alter boy with the big crucifix, hurrying to the back of the church

Journal

I can’t keep a diary to save my life.

I think it may have something to do with the fact that if I am happy, I like to share the happiness with others, and if I am not, I try to ignore the fact. Boring day? Why bother writing about it? Great day? I try to enjoy it as much as possible, not to duck away from the festivities to write about it.

You all know this. I hardly ever blog.

However, I am fully aware of the usefulness of a touchstone, something that will remind me, something that will bring the memories flooding back, so I am desperately trying to keep a journal of this trip. Since I fail miserably at diaries, I am further trying to make it an art journal. Note the 'trying,' because although it has lasted much longer than any of my poor abandoned diaries, I still struggle to remember to add to it, and struggle with how. I think I just need practice, because I do like it.

This is my favorite spread so far.

To the left is a record of a very nice day that I spent just wandering around, the first day I visited the Piazza di Spagna, only a few days after touchdown. I think that the colors pretty accurately represent my feelings. The butterfly drawing as a still-life of the earrings that I was wearing, with the observation “I feel beautiful here,” which means quite a bit, actually.

To the right is a page that I painted to commemorate our first visit to the beach. Now, I would like to think that I would be one of the last people to deny the power of words, but I just don’t have the right ones to describe that day. The warmth of the sun and the sand, and the cool, careless power of the water, and the easy company of some great people that were only just getting to know each other…

-Maria

Nanowrimo

It stands for NAtional NOvel WRIting MOnth.

This month is November, as you may have guessed, and is a month dedicated (for those brave enough to accept the challenge) to writing. Sometimes this means writing horribly, desperately, frantically, or despairingly, but it means writing. The principle of the things is that most of the actual crafting of a novel is in the revision process, but that too many would be authors (such as myself) are too discouraged by the horrible first draft prose, lack of support, time constraints or simple distractions that they stop in despair at the first step: Write.

Nanowrimo volunteers to guilt, encourage, pester and drive you to write 50,000 consecutive words over the course of 30 days, no matter how horrible they may be. (The words or the days. take your pick.)

Need encouragement? Pep talks from published authors such as Neil Gaiman.

Worried about your progress? Word count validations and a bar chart of your personal word count.

Want to talk to other authors? Forums

Need inspiration? Forums

Plot problems? Forums

Yes, I have accepted the challenge. Yes, I am in Rome. Yes, I am in college. Yes, I have papers to write and friends to not ignore and sights to see, but completing a novel is a real goal of mine, and after my abysmal failure last year (only 2,000 words? Really, Maria?) I feel the need for another go.

(Of course, it would be much easier if I had a plot in mind… but let’s not be picky.)

Wish me luck!