a walk in the woods

     In a leaf littered forest somewhere in mid-Missouri, a caravan of hikers are making their way along a narrow path. They are a colorful group -- blue and green coats, a collection of bags and cameras, one occupied baby carrier, and a couple of large dogs.
    Suddenly, Indian war whoops pierce the silence. Two teenagers are chasing each other with young children riding piggy back (clinging on for dear life.) "I'm going to get you!" one of them shouts, immediately followed by bursts of laughter. They run doggedly up the hill, stopping only when they reach the edge of a sharp drop-off. The remainder of the group catches up and together they stand -- admiring the bony whiteness of the sycamores against the craggy rocks; taking in the wintery scene of brown and grey.
     On their descent, the hikers stop by a creek bed covered in ice. There is only one logical thing to do, and that is to try and crack the ice as much as possible by throwing rocks. It doesn't take long for them to create a game of it: a modified version of shuffleboard. Lots of giggling and joking around is involved as well as numerous Monty Python quotes scattered throughout the conversation.

     Finally, it's time to head home. Everyone has sniffling noses and bright red cheeks, but the sharp winter wind is exhilarating and pushes them back along the trail. Each traveler goes his separate way after many well-wishes and goodbyes, unsure of when they will see each other again and what adventures will arise in the future. But a new year has commenced -- a time of renewing goals and beginning again, starting with a walk in the woods.

beautiful words

Words are vessels of emotion.

 

That is why I love to write -- why I attempt to put "the best words in the best order"....

There is no other way to express feelings so explicitly.

"She lives the poetry she cannot write."
           Oscar Wilde


"I'm restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again."             Anais Nin


"There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people."       Vincent Van Gogh


"The poetry of the earth is never dead."
                John Keats


"Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart."          
    Winnie the Pooh


"I am in the mood to dissolve in the sky."
                Virginia Woolf


"Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet."                Bob Marley


"With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come."               William Shakespeare


"There is no pit so deep that God's love is not deeper still."     Corrie Ten Boom


"He will come to us like rain."       
        Hosea 6:3


"Not knowing when the dawn will come, I open every door."          Emily Dickinson

Firenze {part 2}

"For us to go to Italy and to penetrate into Italy is like a most fascinating act of self-discovery,  back, back down the old ways of time. Strange and wonderful chords awake in us, and vibrate again after many hundreds of years of complete forgetfulness." --D.H. Lawrence 

"Italy is a dream that keeps returning for the rest of your life." --Anna Akhmatova

"It is the city of mirrors, the city of mirages, at once solid and liquid, at once air and stone." --Erica Jong 

 

     "How was Italy!?" is a question people have asked me a numerous times these past few weeks.
     "AMAZING!" is how I usually respond.
     "What was your favorite part?"
     pause. what do I say?
      "Ummmm, well the pasta was fantastic! and so was the artwork......"

In my mind I'm searching for the best way to give them a taste of my Italy, but the words never come out right. What I really want to tell everybody, is how beautiful the roof tops were, how Florence was a palette of earthy tones; a blend of red and browns. I want to tell them about the breath-taking views of lush rolling hills dotted with small villages and castles.

Then there were the masses of people. Tourists, policemen, street vendors, and students all crowded the narrow stone streets of Florence. Chefs stood outside of their restaurants shouting for people to come in, gypsy women followed us around mumbling and rattling their cups, while musicians were at every corner with their battered accordions. I could have spent all day just people watching :)

But in all honesty, my favorite part of Florence was the churches. There was a church on every block; large stone monstrosities with spires and heavy wooden doors. Often times the main chapel was filled with frescoes by Giotto or Michelangelo or statues by Donatello. Always the churches were dark and empty; occasionally there was a tourist walking around, or a man kneeling in prayer, but mostly I had the entire place all to myself. I'd sit in a worn pew and absorb the peaceful silence.

There. That's really what I want to say to everyone, but this blog post will have to suffice.



Someday I will return to Europe. There is more exploring to be done!

ticket book

 

     I am a collector of things; stuff like blue china, scrapbooking paper, books, etc., fills up a huge amount of space in my room. But there is one collection of items which occupies only a small corner of my desk. It is a bundle of ticket stubs from various places and events I've been to over the past few years. Whether it was a movie night with friends, or a visit to Dante's house in Italy, I kept the tickets with some vague idea in mind to display them.

     And so I created a 'ticket book' purely for the purpose of storing away the memories. Kinda cute isn't it? :) Every ticket has a story behind it -- a series of memories from times spent with the most important people in my life. Someday, when I'm an old lady, I'll flip through them and smile at the wonderful experiences I had 'back in the day'.      

Firenze {part 1}

I'm home. I'm back from the tiny world which I came to know so familiarly; the place called Florence, Italy.



     Where do I even begin? How do I describe the vibrant life of crowded city streets? How can I share the excitement of seeing ancient treasures?

          Art was everywhere. Frescoes, statues, bronze doors, chalk art on the sidewalk, inlaid marble -- they were all icons of beauty and legend; stories from the Renaissance brought to life.

     Armed with my trusty camera and journal, I'd walk down the streets observing tiny details and absorbing the sights and sounds, trying to capture the life of each moment.     

     One thing I failed to capture in my pictures was the sound. There were church bells clanging in the distance, pigeons cooing, ambulance sirens, people yelling and talking, the constant hum of mopeds zooming around, and strains of accordion music coming from every corner. All of it mingled together to create the atmosphere of busyness and moving ahead. 

     But sometimes, the bustling noise became too much. So I'd step into a small chiesa. Immediately, the pollution and motion of the streets would fall away to the peaceful silence of a stone church. It was refreshing to enter a safe haven where I could stop and collect my thoughts.

     

     Florence was fast-paced for a Missourian from the countryside, but I caught on quick and fell in love with my small taste of Europe! Don't worry-- I will be back for more. Nothing made me happier than to walk the cobbled streets of Italy and feel the exhilaration of exploring the globe.