And A Fiume Arno Runs Through It

I won't lie, I have been here before.  Given, the few days I spent in Italy were really actually just a few, I ended up leaving a piece of my heart here.  This last semester, in the exit interview in my academic department I made the comment that if dialogue, my favorite communication concept to study and practice, was the blood that ran through my veins, then art was the vein that carried the blood.  I love art.  I find peace and tranquility in creating something that can be used as expression or a portal for my perception of beauty.  I love art and its history.  When I first came to Italy I came with the People to People Student Ambassador program.  I was 16 and all I wanted to see was Michelangelo's Pieta that is housed in St. Peter's Basilica.  The whole trip that's all I wanted to see, and I often found myself thinking about only that when I should have been present in where I was.

So, here I am in one of my favorite places in the entire world, living amongst some of the most beautiful art in the history of the Western world.  Leading up to this trip I had this super exotic picture of Italy in my mind, almost as though I would walk off the train that took us to Florence to be serenaded by beautiful Italian men holding bread and cheese waiting to walk me home.  I knew that culture shock would not be a huge problem, but I felt like I had anticipated more.  So the last few days I have spent time in my mind trying to think of where I want to go and what I want to do tomorrow, next week, next, next, next.  I am definitely in next mode, trying to figure out what my life will look like when I get home.  I happened to have graduated from NWU a week and a half ago.

Today was different.  After class we took a walk to the Galleria degli Uffizi.  On our way we walked along the Arno River.  There have been places and landmarks that have looked like they might be familiar, but I haven't been entirely sure.  Today, walking along the river it hit me like a bus, I knew where we were.  I knew where some places were.  Today, for the first time since I have been here, I felt exactly the feeling I have been anticipating.  It's the same feeling I get when I see a piece of artwork that I know, or recognize the brushstrokes of an artist.  For me, coming to Florence is like coming to visit an old friend.  When I walked along the Arno, it felt like I was finally reunited.  I was reminded why I wanted to come back.  I am present.  I feel at peace.  When I took my Art History classes early into my undergraduate career I often found myself recalling that which I had already seen.  Now, I find myself absorbing the art in light of my education, really appreciating it for what it is.  I am here, in the now, taking in the world.  The Italians are a people that live in the now, taking lunch breaks that last for a couple hours at a time.  They eat meals like it is an enjoyable experience, and not simply a bodily transaction.  I am finding that it is important to be aware of the future, but you lose who you are and where you are if you stop being present.  And if I stop being present, I can't really see the art.  I can't see the people.  And I won't see Florence.

-Cathryn V.