6.27.2007
6.26.2007
final project
here's the narrative... (map coming soon)
follow me.
do as i do. see as i see.
and take Trastevere with you.
MARK I: The Piazza
(Piazza di Santa Maria)
i start in the center
at the fountain.
sounds of water draw me near.
i trace the surface with my fingers
let my hand float and then submerge.
a dog jumps in from the other side
to cool off.
in another life, i would have joined him.
instead, i continue on.
it appears i’m still looking for something
else.
MARK II: The Church
(Santa Maria)
i travel to the church ahead of me.
Santa Maria.
inside, it is cool and calm.
i look up. i look down.
can’t help but looking all around.
take it in.
familiar and unfamiliar images.
familiar and unfamiliar faces.
i am intrigued by both.
i walk around the outside of the room.
and finding a lonely, white candle
at the front,
i give away a single euro
and light another candle to join it.
it now burns twice as bright
in front of my face,
and i feel a sense of accomplishment.
simply from lighting a candle.
i go to the first row of pews
sit, and listen.
music, echoes, and whispers.
i like this place.
but i am not yet content.
i still feel the pull of something else.
somewhere else.
so i wander on.
MARK III: The Frutteria
(Piazza di S. Edgio)
i enter a new piazza
and lay eyes on a small frutteria straight ahead.
i remember i haven’t eaten today.
i approach and am greeted by a warm, but gruff old man
who hobbles out to hand me a bag,
a cigarette hanging from his mouth.
he won’t take it out the entire time i spend here.
i decide to buy some fruit.
i choose strawberries.
what did the person before me choose?
what will the person after me choose?
i am five cents short
to pay for the strawberries.
he smiles and gives them to me anyway.
i eat them as i continue on.
they are amazingly delicious,
but i am still looking.
MARK IV: The Tabacchi
(Via della Scalla)
i pass Antilia on the left
where i did my ‘stay’ experiment for two hours.
i am still drawn to it.
more now than before, i suppose.
further up on the left, i see a tabacchi store
with postcards outside.
one in particular
reminds me of my mom
and her visit here.
i buy the postcard and one stamp
sit down on the side of the street
write it out
and stick it in the red mailbox
to send it to her.
and then laugh
because i know i will beat it home.
but still
i have to move on.
MARK V: The Paint Room
(Vernissage Art – Via del Bologna 36)
i am walking on
and i suddenly stop.
and only then notice that others have too.
i see this crazy art shop.
(i think it’s an art shop)
paint… everywhere!
my eyes are unsure.
but my nose has already decided.
it’s the smell that i like.
fresh paint, old paint, drying paint.
from floor to ceiling.
reminds me of the smell of my younger sisters art room.
i was definitely not expecting this.
but i am glad i got to see it. smell it.
and sad that i may never again.
memories.
i feel distracted now.
i must continue on.
MARK VI: The Steps
(Piazza Trilussa)
i arrive in Piazza Trilussa
and walk around to the steps.
i go to the top to see the fountain.
still, i am drawn to water.
and i remember that someone once told me
that everything naturally gravitates towards water.
does that mean me too?
is each individual cell pulling me here?
there are about twenty beer bottles
in the fountain,
and i take a picture.
it’s such an odd sight.
but perhaps that’s the real Rome.
an odd combination of old and new
clashing at every corner.
i sit and listen to the noisy street.
it’s strange, but i almost feel the drums. pounding.
and the weight of all those people
pushing down on this structure.
sounds unpleasant when i say it that way.
but it really is the opposite.
now the noise is getting to me
and i long to get back
into the tiny, tucked away streets
that block out all of Rome.
i have a feeling
there is still more to be found.
MARK VII: The Return
(Via del Moro to Piazza di S. Maria)
on this part of my walk,
my stride gets longer.
i move faster up Via del Moro.
maybe i am growing anxious.
still looking.
always looking.
looking looking looking!
but for what?
where is it??
how do i find it??
and when??
as i turn the corner,
i stop.
i am back in the piazza.
my starting place. my church. my fountain.
strange how i feel i now own them
in some way.
i sit at my same spot on the fountain steps.
and think.
maybe i shouldn’t be looking for anything
and instead, be open to finding everything.
i found so many things on this short little route.
or maybe they found me
but i never went looking for them.
i wasn’t looking for Rome
but it found me.
i wasn’t looking for Trastevere
but it found me.
or maybe i was looking
and i just didn’t know it
…
one thing i do know is,
all this thinking and questioning
is tiresome.
time for caffé.
join me at Caffé delle Arance
and you will have completed your(my) route.
follow me.
do as i do. see as i see.
and take Trastevere with you.
MARK I: The Piazza
(Piazza di Santa Maria)
i start in the center
at the fountain.
sounds of water draw me near.
i trace the surface with my fingers
let my hand float and then submerge.
a dog jumps in from the other side
to cool off.
in another life, i would have joined him.
instead, i continue on.
it appears i’m still looking for something
else.
MARK II: The Church
(Santa Maria)
i travel to the church ahead of me.
Santa Maria.
inside, it is cool and calm.
i look up. i look down.
can’t help but looking all around.
take it in.
familiar and unfamiliar images.
familiar and unfamiliar faces.
i am intrigued by both.
i walk around the outside of the room.
and finding a lonely, white candle
at the front,
i give away a single euro
and light another candle to join it.
it now burns twice as bright
in front of my face,
and i feel a sense of accomplishment.
simply from lighting a candle.
i go to the first row of pews
sit, and listen.
music, echoes, and whispers.
i like this place.
but i am not yet content.
i still feel the pull of something else.
somewhere else.
so i wander on.
MARK III: The Frutteria
(Piazza di S. Edgio)
i enter a new piazza
and lay eyes on a small frutteria straight ahead.
i remember i haven’t eaten today.
i approach and am greeted by a warm, but gruff old man
who hobbles out to hand me a bag,
a cigarette hanging from his mouth.
he won’t take it out the entire time i spend here.
i decide to buy some fruit.
i choose strawberries.
what did the person before me choose?
what will the person after me choose?
i am five cents short
to pay for the strawberries.
he smiles and gives them to me anyway.
i eat them as i continue on.
they are amazingly delicious,
but i am still looking.
MARK IV: The Tabacchi
(Via della Scalla)
i pass Antilia on the left
where i did my ‘stay’ experiment for two hours.
i am still drawn to it.
more now than before, i suppose.
further up on the left, i see a tabacchi store
with postcards outside.
one in particular
reminds me of my mom
and her visit here.
i buy the postcard and one stamp
sit down on the side of the street
write it out
and stick it in the red mailbox
to send it to her.
and then laugh
because i know i will beat it home.
but still
i have to move on.
MARK V: The Paint Room
(Vernissage Art – Via del Bologna 36)
i am walking on
and i suddenly stop.
and only then notice that others have too.
i see this crazy art shop.
(i think it’s an art shop)
paint… everywhere!
my eyes are unsure.
but my nose has already decided.
it’s the smell that i like.
fresh paint, old paint, drying paint.
from floor to ceiling.
reminds me of the smell of my younger sisters art room.
i was definitely not expecting this.
but i am glad i got to see it. smell it.
and sad that i may never again.
memories.
i feel distracted now.
i must continue on.
MARK VI: The Steps
(Piazza Trilussa)
i arrive in Piazza Trilussa
and walk around to the steps.
i go to the top to see the fountain.
still, i am drawn to water.
and i remember that someone once told me
that everything naturally gravitates towards water.
does that mean me too?
is each individual cell pulling me here?
there are about twenty beer bottles
in the fountain,
and i take a picture.
it’s such an odd sight.
but perhaps that’s the real Rome.
an odd combination of old and new
clashing at every corner.
i sit and listen to the noisy street.
it’s strange, but i almost feel the drums. pounding.
and the weight of all those people
pushing down on this structure.
sounds unpleasant when i say it that way.
but it really is the opposite.
now the noise is getting to me
and i long to get back
into the tiny, tucked away streets
that block out all of Rome.
i have a feeling
there is still more to be found.
MARK VII: The Return
(Via del Moro to Piazza di S. Maria)
on this part of my walk,
my stride gets longer.
i move faster up Via del Moro.
maybe i am growing anxious.
still looking.
always looking.
looking looking looking!
but for what?
where is it??
how do i find it??
and when??
as i turn the corner,
i stop.
i am back in the piazza.
my starting place. my church. my fountain.
strange how i feel i now own them
in some way.
i sit at my same spot on the fountain steps.
and think.
maybe i shouldn’t be looking for anything
and instead, be open to finding everything.
i found so many things on this short little route.
or maybe they found me
but i never went looking for them.
i wasn’t looking for Rome
but it found me.
i wasn’t looking for Trastevere
but it found me.
or maybe i was looking
and i just didn’t know it
…
one thing i do know is,
all this thinking and questioning
is tiresome.
time for caffé.
join me at Caffé delle Arance
and you will have completed your(my) route.
6.18.2007
follow me
tracing
tracking
misplaced
and turned upside down
losing ground
look back
don't look back
fear of confrontation
years of hesitation
i won't say a word
i'll just wait here, watch here
you won't notice
but we will be together
almost...
Drift and Stay in Trastevere
DRIFT
STAY
i am bound
while the world around
does change me
sing for sound
while the sights i've found
constrain me
long to astound
while breaking ground
beneath me
i'll lie unbound
when the world comes round
to free me
STAY
i am bound
while the world around
does change me
sing for sound
while the sights i've found
constrain me
long to astound
while breaking ground
beneath me
i'll lie unbound
when the world comes round
to free me
6.11.2007
I had a map...
i had a map.
i had two maps.
i cut them up.
and then i thought i had no more maps.
but i thought... i have a pop-up map.
so it turns out, i do have a map.
but i still don't use it.
i had two maps.
i cut them up.
and then i thought i had no more maps.
but i thought... i have a pop-up map.
so it turns out, i do have a map.
but i still don't use it.
DRIFT
Subject: Drift
Place: Cinque Terra, Italy
Time: June 7-10, 2007
i drift in two varieties
with three bags
over four days
through five towns.
but my thoughts are infinite.
chapter 1: drift... in treno
chapter 2: drift... a piedi
Place: Cinque Terra, Italy
Time: June 7-10, 2007
i drift in two varieties
with three bags
over four days
through five towns.
but my thoughts are infinite.
chapter 1: drift... in treno
chapter 2: drift... a piedi
LOST
so, i thought i knew lost, many kinds of lost, many types
being lost
feeling lost
looking lost.
but this weekend, i learned about a new lost...
wanting lost.
all weekend long, i wanted to be lost. i wanted to find lost, (which i think is an interesting oxymoron) and i wanted to stay lost. i wanted to lose myself, lose my way, lose any kind of schedule or plan, and stay that way.
and in this place, i lost many things. my worries, my stresses, my sense of time passing, my sense of responsibility to the outside world. and my want or need to ever return to the life i knew before.
but this lost wasn't frightening. it wasn’t overwhelming. it wasn’t intimidating. it wasn’t something i was trying to get away from. quite the opposite. it was something i wanted to hold onto always. and even as i left, and found my way back to reality, i stole away a part of that lost and took it with me, and i hold it now, inside me always.
being lost
feeling lost
looking lost.
but this weekend, i learned about a new lost...
wanting lost.
all weekend long, i wanted to be lost. i wanted to find lost, (which i think is an interesting oxymoron) and i wanted to stay lost. i wanted to lose myself, lose my way, lose any kind of schedule or plan, and stay that way.
and in this place, i lost many things. my worries, my stresses, my sense of time passing, my sense of responsibility to the outside world. and my want or need to ever return to the life i knew before.
but this lost wasn't frightening. it wasn’t overwhelming. it wasn’t intimidating. it wasn’t something i was trying to get away from. quite the opposite. it was something i wanted to hold onto always. and even as i left, and found my way back to reality, i stole away a part of that lost and took it with me, and i hold it now, inside me always.
5.30.2007
5.28.2007
invisible cities 2...
so... the more i thought about invisible cities, the more i wanted to identify one common thread of one specific aspect of rome. an invisible city could always be many unique things, but a city is also unified through it's common motifs and all the things that repeat themselves throughout the cities walls and streets and sewers and buildings and even people. so i thought about the graffitti in this city and how prevelant it is, but i have never seen anyone physically making the graffitti. which is actually true in most cities, or at least those that i have been to. i see these remnants of human interaction with their city, but i have never seen anyone in the act, which makes them invisible to me. so less of an invisible city, and more of an invisible people. but people are what make a city, so maybe its the same.
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