(Title by Pete-za)
The mosquitoes are abundant in Milano during the summer months. There are two canals that run through Milan, and anyone who lives close to the water get hit with the bugs. I have, in the past week, had up to 40 bites at one time. They seem to attack mostly at night, and that means they can bite places they wouldn’t normally, like the bottom of my foot. Do you know what it's like to have a mosquito bite on your heel?
I noticed I was getting bit more at night. I found out Sylvana started wearing repellant to bed and using a plug-in bug killer without telling me. I went to the store to buy repellant the next day.
When we have new people in the house, the little buggers seem to attack the new blood. So come visit me in Milan! (Aren’t we great hostesses?)
The Brits live right along the canal, and they have no experience with mosquitoes in Britain. They sleep with mostquito nets over their beds like they’re in some sort of jungle. It turns out Lauren is allergic, and when she get bit they swell up the size of a tennis ball…not kidding. She takes it in good humor and references herself as the elephant woman until the swelling goes down.
Mel C, another one of the Brit’s has been doing project work at my house this week. Their loft doesn’t have a lot of work space. I, of course, was playing autopilot dj, with my ipod on shuffle. Her comment after 2 days of working together was, “Listening to your music makes me feel like I’m in an episode of Dawson’s Creek.”
Compliment? I’m not sure.
So this next week is 4th of July and we are having 4th of July at the Brits’…partly for convenience and partly for the irony. (Pete was really against the idea at first, but it was mostly because he is jealous of the male models that live next door. :)
I want to stage a revolution re-enactment, but none of the Brits have signed up. I guess volunteering their apartment for a stellar dance party will have to do. The mix? American favorites mixed with techno. Can you imagine? I can’t wait to hear Dolly Parton woven into techno. (If you have any MUST HAVE songs for the play list, swing ‘em at me.)
The party will be an all day event, Pete and I are declaring it an official holiday although we don’t have the day off. We want to bring American things to the students of Domus. We will begin with an all-day BBQ, but I'm deadset on doing other silly traditions that are out & out American. Mel C. suggests a beauty pageant. She also wants to wear a cowgirl outfit with the Union Jack. I told her to not bring that flag to this revolutionary party! In my opinion a pie eating contest or hot dog eating...anything with overeating...is in order.
More later, for now Versace is calling.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
and the world spins madly on...
(title by Andrea)
My view of the world was shaken today, but to explain I will start from last week...
Last Saturday night I was over at a friend's house with a very eclectic group of people including photographers, designers, male models :), and English teachers....at some point during the evening it occurred to me that 4 continents were represented. Asia, Africa, and (of course) Antarctica weren't there. I knew with only a few quick phone calls we could have made it 6.
Some wheels started turning in my head about having a 6-continent dinner, a novelty I have never experienced and don't know if I'll have the opportunity to create again once I leave this environment. I mentioned the idea to my friend Andrew, who was in town at the time, and he said he'd personally been part of a 7-continent dinner, but he couldn't remember how they managed to get Antarctica. (?!Me neither?!)
This morning I passed the idea onto Sylvana, hoping maybe we could host such an event here at the apartment. She said, "Whaaat? Whatareyoutalkingabout? ThereareFIVEcontinents!" (Sylvana talks very fast.) I consulted my Italian friend Roberto, and he agreed...only 5 continents.
Now, how did I I live my entire life without knowing how many continents there are?! I mean, there are a lot of things taught in schools that are presented as theories, but the 7 CONTINENTS was presented as pure, solid (land-mass) fact.
By the end of these conversations, Sylvana conceded to 6 or 7, but Roberto held steady to his measly 5 continents (and declared himself my geography teacher).
Worldwide the opinion ranges from 4-7 continents, here are some of the discrepancies according to my friends and Wikipedia:
1) America is one continent. Both the the Peruvian and the Italian agree on this. Andrew-7-continent-dinner-winner says he recently had an argument with a Spanish 9-year-old on this very subject. He came out the victor when he pointed out the separation of the two continents by the Panama Canal. I hope this kid's parents don't come after Andrew when little buddy flunks geography.
2) I was told Antarctica is not a continent because it is ice and not land. However, this is not a true statement. (Andrew declares the exclusion of Antarctica as "a crime.") Although, not included in my friends' count, both Italy and Peru have formally declared Antarctica as a continent (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antarctic_Treaty_System).
3) Although my friends don't agree with this, it is believed by some that Europe and Asia are one and, therefore, Eurasia. Those who believe there are only 4 continents include Africa in this ensemble.
4) Not included in the numbering but still an important difference, Australia is not the name of a continent but rather the name of the country only. The continent, according to Italy and Peru, is Oceania. No matter what you call it, Australia is the only continent staying decisively continental from all counts.
There's a great chart here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Continent
I need some feedback. Does everyone know about the continent controversy? Am I behind because I haven't studied geography since 1993? Am I the only one who refers to Australia as a continent? Please, please tell me I'm not the only one.
FYI I still vote for 7 continents, but I'm a loyalist. Go North America!
My view of the world was shaken today, but to explain I will start from last week...
Last Saturday night I was over at a friend's house with a very eclectic group of people including photographers, designers, male models :), and English teachers....at some point during the evening it occurred to me that 4 continents were represented. Asia, Africa, and (of course) Antarctica weren't there. I knew with only a few quick phone calls we could have made it 6.
Some wheels started turning in my head about having a 6-continent dinner, a novelty I have never experienced and don't know if I'll have the opportunity to create again once I leave this environment. I mentioned the idea to my friend Andrew, who was in town at the time, and he said he'd personally been part of a 7-continent dinner, but he couldn't remember how they managed to get Antarctica. (?!Me neither?!)
This morning I passed the idea onto Sylvana, hoping maybe we could host such an event here at the apartment. She said, "Whaaat? Whatareyoutalkingabout? ThereareFIVEcontinents!" (Sylvana talks very fast.) I consulted my Italian friend Roberto, and he agreed...only 5 continents.
Now, how did I I live my entire life without knowing how many continents there are?! I mean, there are a lot of things taught in schools that are presented as theories, but the 7 CONTINENTS was presented as pure, solid (land-mass) fact.
By the end of these conversations, Sylvana conceded to 6 or 7, but Roberto held steady to his measly 5 continents (and declared himself my geography teacher).
Worldwide the opinion ranges from 4-7 continents, here are some of the discrepancies according to my friends and Wikipedia:
1) America is one continent. Both the the Peruvian and the Italian agree on this. Andrew-7-continent-dinner-winner says he recently had an argument with a Spanish 9-year-old on this very subject. He came out the victor when he pointed out the separation of the two continents by the Panama Canal. I hope this kid's parents don't come after Andrew when little buddy flunks geography.
2) I was told Antarctica is not a continent because it is ice and not land. However, this is not a true statement. (Andrew declares the exclusion of Antarctica as "a crime.") Although, not included in my friends' count, both Italy and Peru have formally declared Antarctica as a continent (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antarctic_Treaty_System).
3) Although my friends don't agree with this, it is believed by some that Europe and Asia are one and, therefore, Eurasia. Those who believe there are only 4 continents include Africa in this ensemble.
4) Not included in the numbering but still an important difference, Australia is not the name of a continent but rather the name of the country only. The continent, according to Italy and Peru, is Oceania. No matter what you call it, Australia is the only continent staying decisively continental from all counts.
There's a great chart here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Continent
I need some feedback. Does everyone know about the continent controversy? Am I behind because I haven't studied geography since 1993? Am I the only one who refers to Australia as a continent? Please, please tell me I'm not the only one.
FYI I still vote for 7 continents, but I'm a loyalist. Go North America!
Thursday, June 14, 2007
sorry for the absence
Ciao tutti! (meaning "hello everyone" I have Trishawna-ized it to "Ciao-sers Tooters." SOME people think this is funny.) I have been a silent blogger for the last month, which means I haven't blogged at all, and for this I am deeply apologetic. I think it had something to do with my vow to truly be here. The more I'm connected to the internet, the less I am truly here. So I will do my best to balance because I believe this is an important communication device.
Enough excuses and apologies!
I have created a plan to get me creatively writing again, but I need your help. I would like some title suggestions...not subjects on which to write, just title suggestions. Then I will do my best to write a story based on that title. The sillier the better. If you really want to give a subject suggestion, that's okay too. You can send them as a comment to this blog, to my myspace page, or to my e-mail account.
Thanks for your assistance. Over & out.
Enough excuses and apologies!
I have created a plan to get me creatively writing again, but I need your help. I would like some title suggestions...not subjects on which to write, just title suggestions. Then I will do my best to write a story based on that title. The sillier the better. If you really want to give a subject suggestion, that's okay too. You can send them as a comment to this blog, to my myspace page, or to my e-mail account.
Thanks for your assistance. Over & out.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Dedications
"Peas and other minor objects" is dedicated to Pete (see blog under Petate) who always takes pictures of his plates of food before he eats them. Pete flew back to Orlando on Tuesday for a short stay. Over a month ago he rattled off to me his plan for every meal he would consume on this trip. The kid likes food, and he really misses the food back in the States. C'mon, Pete, get on the Piadine bandwagon.
I simply found this meal heavy-on-the-peas highly ridiculous and therefore picture-worthy.
This second pic is Alessia, my best good Italian friend, and I. Alessia: for the stress, the coffee breaks, and the late-night spontaneous dance breaks...here's to you, cusser.
A great big public THANKS to miss ruthie fisher for the lovely package she sent me this week, which included Andrew Bird's new release "Armchair Apochrypha."
I betcha didn't know, I created almost my entire entry for the Domus competition while listening to Andrew Bird's "The Mysterious Production of Eggs." This new release seems to pack even more of a punch, and I should be able to shuffle a coupla projects out during airtime. If you don't have this album, run out and buy it right now. Or quickly point your mouse towards iTunes and purchase. That's an order, Mista!
forgotten thoughts.
Journal Entry July 30, 2005:
"I woke up this morning with thoughts of Milan on my brain. Where did those come from? Why Milan and why now? This is the first time Italy has come up. But perhaps this is something for me???
My thoughts about Milan were to go to design school, preferably grad school for creative entrepreneurship and learn Italian. Is this crazy?"
I remember that summer morning, waking up with these ideas out-of-the-blue, a revelation of sorts that bewildered me. After moving to Portland, I had a period when I was trying to figure out a new plan, avoid settling there and move to the next spot. I'd thought about other places before, LA, NYC, Colorado, but never Milan.
That morning I stumbled down to the Portland Coffee House, my Saturday morning wi-fi spot, and looked up possible grad programs. I felt I finally had some direction of where to go, and I was going to research it. I told a few friends, and Alan even bought me a book on learning Italian. The idea of going to Italy continued for a few months, but nothing ever panned out. In all honesty I didn't pursue it beyond a few internet searches and some passing prayers.
July 30, 2005 continued...
"I am very smitten with the idea of going far, far away. I am very smitten with learning a language, just really pursuing that. I want to own my own business, I want to live a creatively charged life. And at this point I am not pursuing any of those things.
I am in Oregon (which I love)
spending tons of time with friends (whom I love)
working a job (that I like)
and spending a lot of time training for the triathlon (which I love)"
I had been in Portland less than a year at that time. I was just getting to know the city. It was only a few weeks before that I ran the Nike Run Hit Wonder with over 10,000 people right past my apartment in downtown and thought, "I love it here." And a week after this entry I moved in Peter and Jessica's with Ruthie...a real home with real friends (some of my best friends) instead of a studio apartment for one. There was still a lot of life to be lived there.
I stumbled onto this entry, filed in a random folder on my computer, a few nights ago. My current brain had forgotten about those thoughts. This fall when I e-mailed Alan to tell him I was moving to Italy, he said his mom always says that I always make good on what I say I'm going to do. The idea of school in Italy came from another place entirely this last fall, a suggestion from Barbara, and even with Alan's words I never fully connected the two. Running onto this entry has been just another link that has calmed me and settled me into this here foreign city.
There comes a point in every situation in which I stop running and settle in. Summer '05 was when it happened for me in Portland, and May '07 is when it happened in Milan.
(I still love you, Portland.)
"I woke up this morning with thoughts of Milan on my brain. Where did those come from? Why Milan and why now? This is the first time Italy has come up. But perhaps this is something for me???
My thoughts about Milan were to go to design school, preferably grad school for creative entrepreneurship and learn Italian. Is this crazy?"
I remember that summer morning, waking up with these ideas out-of-the-blue, a revelation of sorts that bewildered me. After moving to Portland, I had a period when I was trying to figure out a new plan, avoid settling there and move to the next spot. I'd thought about other places before, LA, NYC, Colorado, but never Milan.
That morning I stumbled down to the Portland Coffee House, my Saturday morning wi-fi spot, and looked up possible grad programs. I felt I finally had some direction of where to go, and I was going to research it. I told a few friends, and Alan even bought me a book on learning Italian. The idea of going to Italy continued for a few months, but nothing ever panned out. In all honesty I didn't pursue it beyond a few internet searches and some passing prayers.
July 30, 2005 continued...
"I am very smitten with the idea of going far, far away. I am very smitten with learning a language, just really pursuing that. I want to own my own business, I want to live a creatively charged life. And at this point I am not pursuing any of those things.
I am in Oregon (which I love)
spending tons of time with friends (whom I love)
working a job (that I like)
and spending a lot of time training for the triathlon (which I love)"
I had been in Portland less than a year at that time. I was just getting to know the city. It was only a few weeks before that I ran the Nike Run Hit Wonder with over 10,000 people right past my apartment in downtown and thought, "I love it here." And a week after this entry I moved in Peter and Jessica's with Ruthie...a real home with real friends (some of my best friends) instead of a studio apartment for one. There was still a lot of life to be lived there.
I stumbled onto this entry, filed in a random folder on my computer, a few nights ago. My current brain had forgotten about those thoughts. This fall when I e-mailed Alan to tell him I was moving to Italy, he said his mom always says that I always make good on what I say I'm going to do. The idea of school in Italy came from another place entirely this last fall, a suggestion from Barbara, and even with Alan's words I never fully connected the two. Running onto this entry has been just another link that has calmed me and settled me into this here foreign city.
There comes a point in every situation in which I stop running and settle in. Summer '05 was when it happened for me in Portland, and May '07 is when it happened in Milan.
(I still love you, Portland.)
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
turning the leaf.
Pops is learning Italian. Danyelle sent him a CD set to get him started. At the rate I’m going, with design work taking precedence, he’ll be better than me by the time they come to visit.
I went to Paris this last weekend. I visited my friend Kathryn but found myself alone all day on Sunday while she worked at her boyfriend's shop. I visited all the familiar places: Notre Dame, The Eiffel Tower, Musee' D'Orsay...I was surprised at how well I remembered the city. It's the first time I've visited since I studied there in 2003.
Overall it was a time of thinking and refreshing after the last project. I considered some of the things our project leaders said during my critiques. Through their words and my own honesty, I realized that I have been fighting my own education.
Those of you who know me well know that I really struggled with the decision of whether to come here or not, whether to get my masters in fashion or even to stay in this field of work. That same debate has raged in me here. Although I have been working hard on my projects, I have taken all the fun out of them with this internal fight. Our last project leader said to me during a critique, “Design school is the most fun part of a fashion designer’s life. If you are not having fun, you might want to rethink this.” Besides the fact that that statement is the most depressing news I've ever heard for designers, he could obviously tell that something was amiss.
This week I feel like I’m starting anew. I know there’s no way I’m backing out of this program, it’s all been paid upfront. So this internal struggle is useless. Why am I preventing myself from learning everything I can, from soaking it all up? I'm ready.
Today a new brief was assigned, and it’s a beautiful thing. The project is to design ecologically responsible product for an outdoor and sportswear company. Could it get any more perfect? Meanwhile all my classmates are groaning. One girl even said, “I’m not designing clothing for safari people!” (Although her last collection was done entirely in safari colors.)
And so the summer begins…
I went to Paris this last weekend. I visited my friend Kathryn but found myself alone all day on Sunday while she worked at her boyfriend's shop. I visited all the familiar places: Notre Dame, The Eiffel Tower, Musee' D'Orsay...I was surprised at how well I remembered the city. It's the first time I've visited since I studied there in 2003.
Overall it was a time of thinking and refreshing after the last project. I considered some of the things our project leaders said during my critiques. Through their words and my own honesty, I realized that I have been fighting my own education.
Those of you who know me well know that I really struggled with the decision of whether to come here or not, whether to get my masters in fashion or even to stay in this field of work. That same debate has raged in me here. Although I have been working hard on my projects, I have taken all the fun out of them with this internal fight. Our last project leader said to me during a critique, “Design school is the most fun part of a fashion designer’s life. If you are not having fun, you might want to rethink this.” Besides the fact that that statement is the most depressing news I've ever heard for designers, he could obviously tell that something was amiss.
This week I feel like I’m starting anew. I know there’s no way I’m backing out of this program, it’s all been paid upfront. So this internal struggle is useless. Why am I preventing myself from learning everything I can, from soaking it all up? I'm ready.
Today a new brief was assigned, and it’s a beautiful thing. The project is to design ecologically responsible product for an outdoor and sportswear company. Could it get any more perfect? Meanwhile all my classmates are groaning. One girl even said, “I’m not designing clothing for safari people!” (Although her last collection was done entirely in safari colors.)
And so the summer begins…
Sunday, April 22, 2007
This week in my life.
MONDAY
Revisions with Raphael Lopez, famous fashion designer, leave every single fashion student lying on the ground with our guts hanging out. A few of us go out to apperitivo (aka happy hour) and 3/4 of the conversation revolves around our dramatic revisions. Everyone has a story to tell. My personal story: Raphael scoffed at my purse shaped like a strawberry. “Un Borsa Fragola, ha!” Can I help it if my style is whimsical?
The project is on the femme fatale. We are to create our own version of the femme fatale. However, the character of the femme fatale is contrary to everything I stand for. In addition, the typical clothing style of the femme fatale is opposite to my personal style. I thought the key to the project was making it personal, but after the revisions I feel like they want us all to be part of a pre-made femme fatale mold.
TUESDAY
The morning lecturer is one of the project leaders who is assisting Raphael. She begins her lecture by giving an overview of Monday’s revisions. My borsa fragola makes it into her comments. “For instance, the femme fatale would never carry a strawberry purse, ” she says. I don’t take it personally.
The Salone di Mobile, one of the biggest furniture/design fairs in the world, begins today in Milan. It’s a one-week event, and the whole world is here. The Accessories majors were assigned their project: go to the Salone and design 6 bags from whatever you see that inspires you. This is my dream assignment. Meanwhile the fashion students are bogged down in a project that keeps us from the most important design event in Milan.
I throw off my responsibilities and attend the kick-off party. A box that I helped create is displayed in the Domus Academy area of the fair. The party is fun, and I look like Alice in Wonderland gone monochromatic.
WEDNESDAY
All project progress is stopped by lectures that could be scheduled some other time. The afternoon lecture leaves me feeling claustrophobic because of the absurdity of the “small in-class project” vs. the mountain of work I have ahead of me. However, a mention of a famous dancer from the early 20th century inspires me for both my big project and the small in-class project. During the presentation of this mini project I announce to the class that if I could, I would dance in the street for money, a street performer like in the 80’s movies. One classmate interjected, “A stripper?” I decline that suggestion.
I walk over to Duomo to run some errands and want to strangle all the people walking slow in front of me. I am in a bad mood. This project is making me very violent, and I have begun to swear in Italian in my head. It doesn't help that my closest friend Alessia swears all the time in both English and Italian. During project 3 I nicknamed her "Cusser." She didn't know what it meant before, but now she is proud of it.
Pete moved out today due to space complications that were occurring over a month ago. Pete has become my good friend, and I sorely miss him already. Sylvana is gone a lot so he’s the one with whom I talk. Plus, he downloads episodes of the Office.
THURSDAY
Fashion students attend an all-day trend seminar that is part of the Salone Di Mobile. I am sitting there trying not to be nervous about the project that is waiting for me at home.
I fall in love with Sam Buxton, a guest speaker at the event. Reason 1: English accent, Reason 2: when describing the design for which he is the most famous, he uses two of my favorite words “miniature” and “theater”.
FRIDAY
I work on the project all day but feel as if I get no where. The wind has been taken out of my sails. And as I talk to my fellow classmates, they feel the same way.
Danielle, a British classmate, turns 22 today. (Do I feel old? Yes, some days.) She has a party at her apartment. I think it’s foolishness to plan a party when the Salone is going on. The Salone turns into party central at night. I go to Danielle’s party out of obligation to a classmate, but the entire time I want to go to Zona Tortona where things are happening. My time is limited with this project, so I want to maximize my fun time.
Danielle is petite, blonde, and feisty. She is one of the most sought-after girls at Domus even though she has a boyfriend. Despite this fact, there are only 3 boys at the party. Boy 1 is gay,
Boy 2 is that guy from class who’s always around,
Boy 3 (who showed up quite late) is the guy that all the girls in school are after. I see the competitive claws come out when this guy walks in the door, and I immediately avoid the situation altogether.
The one saving grace about this party is the music. Lauren, who has good musical taste, is running the ipod, and I just lose myself in the dancing. Most of my classmates have never seen me dance so I immediately become a spectacle. At one point I am dancing and everyone else is standing around clapping. The guy from class who’s always there says, “When you dance, it’s the purest part of you.” He is very spiritual about it. Alessia says, “From now on when you say, ‘I just want to dance,’ I will know what you mean.” (I give credit to Paulyn’s and Dance-in-the-living-room studios for making this possible.)
SATURDAY
I work on the project all day. At 6 I go over to Zona Tortona to see some of the exhibitions. I can’t believe we are missing this. There are some amazing things to see.
SUNDAY
Work, work, work. There’s another revision tomorrow, and I’m just hoping Raphael doesn’t tear me apart. I may not have enough time to finish the project the way it is. (Which begs the question: why are you writing a blog, then?) Please pray for me, friends.
Revisions with Raphael Lopez, famous fashion designer, leave every single fashion student lying on the ground with our guts hanging out. A few of us go out to apperitivo (aka happy hour) and 3/4 of the conversation revolves around our dramatic revisions. Everyone has a story to tell. My personal story: Raphael scoffed at my purse shaped like a strawberry. “Un Borsa Fragola, ha!” Can I help it if my style is whimsical?
The project is on the femme fatale. We are to create our own version of the femme fatale. However, the character of the femme fatale is contrary to everything I stand for. In addition, the typical clothing style of the femme fatale is opposite to my personal style. I thought the key to the project was making it personal, but after the revisions I feel like they want us all to be part of a pre-made femme fatale mold.
TUESDAY
The morning lecturer is one of the project leaders who is assisting Raphael. She begins her lecture by giving an overview of Monday’s revisions. My borsa fragola makes it into her comments. “For instance, the femme fatale would never carry a strawberry purse, ” she says. I don’t take it personally.
The Salone di Mobile, one of the biggest furniture/design fairs in the world, begins today in Milan. It’s a one-week event, and the whole world is here. The Accessories majors were assigned their project: go to the Salone and design 6 bags from whatever you see that inspires you. This is my dream assignment. Meanwhile the fashion students are bogged down in a project that keeps us from the most important design event in Milan.
I throw off my responsibilities and attend the kick-off party. A box that I helped create is displayed in the Domus Academy area of the fair. The party is fun, and I look like Alice in Wonderland gone monochromatic.
WEDNESDAY
All project progress is stopped by lectures that could be scheduled some other time. The afternoon lecture leaves me feeling claustrophobic because of the absurdity of the “small in-class project” vs. the mountain of work I have ahead of me. However, a mention of a famous dancer from the early 20th century inspires me for both my big project and the small in-class project. During the presentation of this mini project I announce to the class that if I could, I would dance in the street for money, a street performer like in the 80’s movies. One classmate interjected, “A stripper?” I decline that suggestion.
I walk over to Duomo to run some errands and want to strangle all the people walking slow in front of me. I am in a bad mood. This project is making me very violent, and I have begun to swear in Italian in my head. It doesn't help that my closest friend Alessia swears all the time in both English and Italian. During project 3 I nicknamed her "Cusser." She didn't know what it meant before, but now she is proud of it.
Pete moved out today due to space complications that were occurring over a month ago. Pete has become my good friend, and I sorely miss him already. Sylvana is gone a lot so he’s the one with whom I talk. Plus, he downloads episodes of the Office.
THURSDAY
Fashion students attend an all-day trend seminar that is part of the Salone Di Mobile. I am sitting there trying not to be nervous about the project that is waiting for me at home.
I fall in love with Sam Buxton, a guest speaker at the event. Reason 1: English accent, Reason 2: when describing the design for which he is the most famous, he uses two of my favorite words “miniature” and “theater”.
FRIDAY
I work on the project all day but feel as if I get no where. The wind has been taken out of my sails. And as I talk to my fellow classmates, they feel the same way.
Danielle, a British classmate, turns 22 today. (Do I feel old? Yes, some days.) She has a party at her apartment. I think it’s foolishness to plan a party when the Salone is going on. The Salone turns into party central at night. I go to Danielle’s party out of obligation to a classmate, but the entire time I want to go to Zona Tortona where things are happening. My time is limited with this project, so I want to maximize my fun time.
Danielle is petite, blonde, and feisty. She is one of the most sought-after girls at Domus even though she has a boyfriend. Despite this fact, there are only 3 boys at the party. Boy 1 is gay,
Boy 2 is that guy from class who’s always around,
Boy 3 (who showed up quite late) is the guy that all the girls in school are after. I see the competitive claws come out when this guy walks in the door, and I immediately avoid the situation altogether.
The one saving grace about this party is the music. Lauren, who has good musical taste, is running the ipod, and I just lose myself in the dancing. Most of my classmates have never seen me dance so I immediately become a spectacle. At one point I am dancing and everyone else is standing around clapping. The guy from class who’s always there says, “When you dance, it’s the purest part of you.” He is very spiritual about it. Alessia says, “From now on when you say, ‘I just want to dance,’ I will know what you mean.” (I give credit to Paulyn’s and Dance-in-the-living-room studios for making this possible.)
SATURDAY
I work on the project all day. At 6 I go over to Zona Tortona to see some of the exhibitions. I can’t believe we are missing this. There are some amazing things to see.
SUNDAY
Work, work, work. There’s another revision tomorrow, and I’m just hoping Raphael doesn’t tear me apart. I may not have enough time to finish the project the way it is. (Which begs the question: why are you writing a blog, then?) Please pray for me, friends.
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