Today, on the first day of spring, Florence got its snow.
Tuscany is not a region of Italy where snow falls very often, so the flurry of white flakes has brought a bit of uncertainty and a lot of joy to all of us. Without much means for cleaning up after the snow, roads and sidewalks were slippery, and subsequently, schools and some public offices were closed.
Walking through the city, it felt like a Saturday, with families and couples enjoying the day together.
Children and dogs alike rejoiced in the snow;
and parents offered their creative solutions for making the most of their children’s fun in the snow.
Today was a long workday for me and my work partner,
so we took advantage of being out and about
and dodging snowballs
on this special day in Florence, that gave us a new perspective on the sites we’ve become so accustomed to.
The winter wonderland was fleeting, nearly all but disappeared before the sun went down.
But the memories, and lots of photos, will last forever…
San Diego’s North Park neighborhood piqued my interest many years ago when a tiny street called Ray Street dotted with artist studios started welcoming the public to their studios every month. Prior, I had only thought of North Park as a fairly crime-stricken region of San Diego that was best to avoid. Fast-forward a decade, and the neighborhood is booming with businesses and new residents, but most artists can’t afford to be there anymore. A downside of neighborhood redevelopment. Fortunately, the upsides are numerous, including the creation of the North Park Historical Society in 2007, which is the local group behind the official designation of the North Park Dryden Historic District, which boasts several blocks of California bungalows and Spanish colonial revival homes. I watch the changing of the seasons jogging the streets of this gorgeous neighborhood as homeowners enthusiastically decorate their already eye-catching homes.
And my favorite season of all to enjoy this neighborhood is – you guessed it – Halloween. These homeowners are so creative and artistically inclined with their spooky decor.
If you are visiting San Diego or live here, pay a visit and take a nice long stroll at dusk along 28th and Pershing Streets, bordered to the north by Landis Street and to the south by Upas Street, and everything around and between.
Enjoy a trip back in time, a lesson in California architecture, and a good laugh at these Halloween decorations with a sense of humor.
And the best part is no costume is required.
Although, if you are so inclined, your costume will be admired by the neighborhood joggers, like me, and, no doubt, the homeowners too!
If you’re interested in seeing some fascinating historical photos of the neighborhood and learning more about its history, this PDF by the Save Our Heritage Organisation is a great read.
My mom sometimes worries – as many moms do – that she hasn’t been the best mom. But “best” in this case, as in every case, is just relative. Who in this case would be the definitive judge of all moms in terms of being “the best?” Donna Reed? Michelle Obama? Angelina Jolie? The idea of a “best mom contest” is kind of hilarious, maybe because it is such a personal role.
True, my mother was not waiting for me when I got home from school with freshly baked cookies. Or tagging along on my school trips. Instead of living her life through me and my activities, my mom was pursuing her passion for art, and bringing me along on that ride of discovery. I can think if no better way of learning about life and living than through art, and for that, my mom is the best mom, for me. 🙂
When I was in her belly in Togo, West Africa, she was scouring the African beaches for the most beautiful shells, and taking them home and sketching them.
When I was a toddler, she was pursuing her masters in photography at Indiana University and using me as her model as she experimented with large format photography.
When I was in grammar school, she was forging new artistic territory in our border home in Southern California, setting up photography exhibits of her hip-shots in Mexicali and large format photography of Mexican families. She would often bring me with her to Mexico when she was shooting. Even as a six-year-old I would get nervous crossing the border, and worry that I would forget where I was born when the border patrol agent asked me. She would always patiently remind me.
When I was in high school, she was working long hours as a newspaper photographer, documenting the stories that needed to be told in our low-income community. She would bring me along on stories she knew I would especially love, like watching baby pigs be born late one night, and visiting a buffalo farm.
She painted in the little spare time that she had. Now, my mom’s art is sculpting the environment of her backyard, a garden oasis in the desert.
I thank my mom for giving me a love and ability for art both through nature, and nurture.
But better yet, the drive behind my mom’s pursuance of art is perhaps the best qualities she has – curiosity, passion, intelligence, and independence. Having had a mom that waited for me to get home every day would have given me a lot of security, but instead I was given something that I think I needed more. Independence and curiosity are instrumental qualities for being a successful traveler and photographer, and I don’t think I would have ever been able to realize my life of traveling without these skills my mom taught me as a role model and as her apprentice.
So on this day I hope my mom, and all moms, know how much they have given us, and can challenge themselves to enjoy that, without worry or doubt, for at least the twenty-four hours of this awesome day, Mother’s Day. Happy Mother’s Day Mom!!
After completing two master’s programs in arts management, the topic of art and its relationship to life is of particular interest to me and has been the topic of many a paper and lengthy discussion with colleagues.
But in the case of the weekly WordPress photo challenge “Life Imitates Art,” I’m abstaining from profundity of any kind and delving into this photo challenge quite literally, utilizing the immensity of my library of travel photography as a significant asset. I mean, doesn’t everybody love taking silly statue photos?
On that note, I now introduce you to the tip of the iceberg of my silly statue photo collection. I apologize in advance.
There are two types of people in the world: those that love Venice, and those that really don’t. It seems rare to find someone that has a neutral opinion of Venice. I get both sides – Venice can be crowded, touristy at times, hard to navigate, it doesn’t have the best weather, and then there’s the flooding issue.
But despite all of its flaws, the architecture, ambiance, and sheer novelty of Venice are undeniable, and it is hard to argue against ranking it as one of the cities in the world that should be on everyone’s bucket list. I’ll never forget stepping out of the train station the very first time, and stopping on the steps to take it all in: the view of San Simeone Piccolo proudly standing as the backdrop of the flurry of activity on the canal, right in front of me. It almost felt like being in a dream.
That trip taught me which type of person I am – the kind that loves Venice. I’ve made countless trips to Venice since that first time in 2011, and I hope to make countless more.
As Carnevale 2016 comes to a close today, Venice is on my mind. Here’s to many more gorgeous carnevali to come!!
This photo is perhaps the most “illustrious” of my “instants” so far. The photo isn’t meant to demonstrate fabulous composition, color, movement, etc. The photo taking is normal, but the subjects are wonderful.
I took this photo because this relationship – daughter and mother taking a simple afternoon stroll -represents Italy for me in a special way. The unconditional love and family ties that still run deep in this country are a joy to witness.
I am always grateful for the perspective that witnessing moments like these in countries other than my own have given me, and I hope for the same opportunities for you as well!
It was almost exactly one year ago today that this moment was captured, on one of those blissful Sunday afternoons with friends and nothing else on your mind to distract you and keep you from enjoying every second of now. I had nothing on the agenda other than relaxing, eating, and catching up with/getting to know the gals.
It is one of those memories that is still as vibrant as the colors in these photos, and will not soon fade. The restaurant, Fienile Fluo, is in the perfect location, but unfortunately the food isn’t perfect, and the service is even worse. It is the place to go for a day like this: when you have a lot of time, you have great company so you don’t demand a lot of attention, and you aren’t so concerned with the quality of your meal. In the perfect storm when most of these conditions are met, you can’t ask for a better place to be.
Meat and cheese plates are great choices at places like this where food quality is inconsistent.
I broke away from lunch for a bit to take a few pictures. There was lots of action to capture…like the family dog…
A tractor…;)
I couldn’t take a bad shot. Bologna, while unfortunately stuck in a valley that traps bad weather, also reaps the advantages of being surrounded by these gorgeous hills (called “colli” in Italian). After a long winter of bearing the brunt of the cold, emerging into the hills was the perfect way to celebrate the spring. A life full of afternoons like these is certainly a happy life…I wish for more of them for you and me. 🙂
The view from the Rialto bridge in Venice is – in a word – indescribable. Yes, you are submerged in tourists. But if you can just face forward and take a deep breath and let the beauty of Venice pour in, you will never forget the moment. The curve of the Grand Canal teeming with activity just below your feet, the pastel painted buildings lining the water with bobbing boats parked steps away. Yesterday was a warm, sunny day, and the canal was gleaming with energy. Even the birds seemed to know this was the place to be.
Living far away from home isn’t always easy. But this sunset view of St. Peter’s Basilica just off of the Piazza dei Cavalieri di Malta in Rome has a way of melting away all of my homesickness. Just one gentle sweep of my eyes across the Roman rooftops and all my worries are gone…
I guess it is pretty much a given that living far away from home is never easy. And living in a different country is equally challenging. So at my three-year anniversary of living both of these realities, I’ve been feeling a bit tired. And ready to go home. But after the night before last, thanks to Bologna’s annual Notte Bianca, a.k.a. Art City White Night, I am comforted knowing I can leave Italy on a happy note. The infatuation for Italy that I arrived here with has been substituted with a real, sincere love based on a foundation of its awesomeness: the tangible, ever-present appreciation for enjoying the best things in life – food, people, traveling, and culture.
Similar events in the US (on a smaller scale) include Ray at Night in San Diego and the monthly Pittsburgh gallery crawl, but due to the infrequency of Art City White Night and the given respect for its sister event, Arte Fiera, Notte Bianca is truly an opportunity to see the beautiful nooks and crannies of Bologna’s heritage that are rarely open to the public. Really, it is kind of tourist’s dream.
My first year in Bologna, Art City White Night was struck by bitter cold and it was all I could do to make it out of the house. Subsequent years I have made the fatal mistake of taking Art City White Night as an opportunity to eat and drink in good company. But I was overwhelmingly mistaken, because bars and restaurants are open every night, and during Art City White Night, they are an overcrowded nightmare.
So, third time’s a charm. This year, my final year, I happened to be on photo assignment for a local contemporary art magazine, Droste Effect Magazine, and I was determined to visit as many participating locations as possible. Alone, and lugging a lot of equipment, I was not anticipating a great evening. But, as what you expect always seems to end up completely opposite, the evening was absolutely marvelous. I was continually floored by what I discovered…a constant grab bag of delights and possibly my best night ever in Bologna. I am no expert on visual art. But I love these events because you don’t have to know anything about art. The city was bursting with people discovering their city and having fun. Not bad.
And, I tell ya, I will not soon forget the beauty I witnessed on Saturday. I stumbled into places I’ve been countless times, like the historic grocery market, that I will never see the same way after following the beautiful sound of an accordion only to discover a man passionately playing amongst the quiet stalls of vegetable merchants.
Or the main piazza, Piazza Maggiore, which I walked through on my way to another gallery, only to find myself surrounded by people flying kites at midnight. I was dumfounded for a moment…kites? Midnight? Winter? Only in Italy… 🙂 It will be forever burned into my memory.
But really, the opportunity to go behind closed doors was the most memorable, from a famously transformed historical church boasting a contemporary art installation on the altar, which was an amazing juxtaposition of contemporary and historical art,
to skipping an art exhibit in favor of just enjoying the staircase leading to the show, which was hidden within city’s administration buildings. This is the most dramatic staircase I have ever encountered, and unfortunately, my photo doesn’t do it justice.
Another highlight was being invited into the city’s more exclusive locations, like The Grand Hotel Majestic, where the likes of Elton John and Princess Diana have stayed while visiting Bologna,
and marveling at the frescos on the ceilings of the beautiful buildings in the city center.
I am trying to compare this evening to a similar evening in my life, but I really can’t think of anything that can compare. I felt like Alice in Wonderland, wandering through Bologna with no idea what marvel or magical character I would find next. And in the end, a powerful reminder of what a gift it has been to live in this beautiful place.
And why oh why didn’t I take more advantage of it? I guess every regret is just a lesson learned, and hopefully a lesson passed on. Put yourself out there and…you will be rewarded. 🙂