Firenze

It was pouring on election day and my phone died and I was STARVING and frustrated by the minuscule size of italian sidewalks.

then heather found me huddling under san pietro, in the shadow of brunelleschi's dome and opposite Ghiberti's dome. she took me home and wined me (cheap Chianti--better then water!) and then took me out to election night party where i saw a professor and a live country band and ate free food all night.


then dancing and wine and secret bakeries studded in the winding avenues of firenze

Venezia

Oh my Venezia.

well first Milano Centrale-- 14 hours spent in the station sleeping on wooden bench and freezing to death and starving and being generally miserable. it was also a night of superb bladder control. 12pm to 6am though i only lasted till 3am before doing something highly illegal. and to all the sketchy men of Milano Centrale--va funculo! I piss on all of you. such depravation though i tell you.

so of course, first thing in venezia I devoured a gigantic pizza the size of my face--and got into a friendly conversation about Obama. christ it was a delicious day.

then the piazza de san marco and il rialto and the palazzo il doge and wandering wandering wandering, footloose and fancy free and BED under pink sheets in a pink room with a purple plastic rhinestone chandelier. pain di something or other smothered in nutella and six bowls of cornflakes in the morning. gorgeous gorgeous sleep and a beautiful puppy

Milano

So Italy. Mio Dia. Bella

Milano is an ugly little town, exquisitely fuctional shall we say. Covered in graffitti and populated with cheap food joints--with of course the requisite fashion stores. I stood in the shadow of gorgio armani and I can't say I felt inspired.

Heather and I in La Scalla, Il Duomo and other unsavory places--plus the best snack foods in all italy. gram parvesi--if only i could eat you without feeling ill at the end of it. and the delicious delicious cookies. what a repast!

Halloween was a sad affair, i dressed up my voice and we the scots and the aussie lass sat supping in the neighborhood bar with the local kiddies

A Beach in Britain??!

Yea though I have walked along the pebbled shores of pain, my feet remain curiously untroubled.

First though was the literary festival. I kind of enjoy the atmosphere of literary festivals--its so rare to see so many people arrogantly posturing at the same time though I have never been to a political convention either. I'm a registered nonregister if you know what I mean.



Anne Enright is forthright and fabulous. A short haired Irish mother who wields fuck as an adjective, noun and adverb (I have my views on profanity in writing which is as long as you can read it without blushing you're alright)--and a superb voice weaver. She wrote the most wonderful story of a mother and jilted wife that made me want to sigh. Go. Get her short stories. DEVOUR them. shes fantastic

Lionel Shriver (who is in fact a woman) read Richard Yates, the forgotten American short story man of the Sixties. Highlights included watching a trailer for Revolutionary Road which has never been seen before ever, listening to her read the story and then just listening to her, gloomy as all get out and fantastic. A cynic with a sense of humor. Her best advice is that compassion is the writers best tool which I think we forget in this age of our sense of grandeur and our adherence to our petty personal pity parades. Also there was a woman there who had lived in the Village in the Sixties and actually knew Richard Yates--an morose soggy alcoholic apparently--which is more proof to me that anything good or entertaining in this world happened in NYC first

But I ventured into the English countryside--dung patties, cows and huge unexpected red birds flying from out of corn rows and all

Next post- Brighton

Deep Scottish Love (not ever an illegal substance)

having been and returned and slept I think i have more perspective then I did before.

The Highlands are the impeachable majesty of Scotland, the most endurable legacy to their fierce pride that chafes in the memory of generations of Scots. One day- not today or tomorrow- but someday they will walk away from the UK. Its so different in Scotland- none of the polyethnic hybridization that cartwheels through Britain. I dont think I've ever been so concious of absence and it was unnerving.

Having said that I would cheerfully walk forever through the heathered hills. I love sing a longs, even in tiny hostel bars as much as i love wee scottish discotechques full of balding men in pageboy caps that close at 1 am. I want to go down face first in a faerie brook and come out bubbling the other side. if i ever go again, im going hiking in the summer and im swimming in the loch ness.

Don't think I'd ever do a group tour like that again, but thats more my fault then their's. i can get excited by white horses but ill never care (yes that was code). But i know i can do it on my own now, which is more important to me then anything else. as long as i have one friend in this world I can go it alone

Also Edinburgh is the most tiny toy like urban center I have ever seen. Also Sticky Toffee Pudding is worth every ounce of fat that drips down the sides. Shortbread and Oatcakes to see you on your way.

NEXT STOP IRELAND!

Time Traveler

Bad mornings begin when fatigue drags down the body and aches in the spaces of bones. Today was a bad morning.

but I sallied forth--into a crypt and an amazing display of light art glowing and pulsing in the pungent bowels of the earth.

then off to the Wellcome Museum where I discovered that someone somewhere thought a penis with a hat was a fertility aid. Also I toured the bodies buried under Tube stops and McDonalds all over London.

Finally the British Museum and the elegance of invaders. Sometimes I can't help but think of it as an elegy to empire, and marvel at the shamelessness of plunder. and then I leave

(Also I wonder what we will display when we talk about Iraq, Cuba, Africa, Afghanistan. When we write our history in placards and crafted exhibits. And then I leave)

But what ho! Scotland on the horizon?!! EGads am I doing something with my time?! Watson this is BRILLIANT

Did I mention--

Thursday saw Ordinary Differentials off to a start as well as

Marylebourne, Bakers Street, Regents Park and the floating houseboat chinoisere, bits of Camden that is just like home, and my infatuation with all grocery stores that are not Tesco

Behold the beauty of vegetable cutlets!

and then the Big CHill House to wind the evening down right

Cheers From Britain

This is the first time I feel cheerfully inclined towards the place; possibly because my sun returned to me. She even revolved endlessly in the brilliant blue sky

Oxford Street is icky (scientifically exact terminology) in its wealth.
Hyde Park is huge
and the National Royal Theater is BRILLiANT

you gotta love a play about lesbian suffragettes who slit their wrists on stage. You HAVE to

and then fireworks and works of fire. crazy people setting themselves on fire which would be immolation except they were being paid.

its no New York but its good enough for now

ENTER NEW YEAR stage center

strange times backwards and forwards i'd say in general

much too little time in sum (and way too much knowledge is trying to cram its way into this tiny brain)

more talk and less sleep!