Week 10: Storytelling--Amaranthine Heavens

Distance.  Such a short word, simple in its meaning, and yet incomprehensible in its reality.  To be so far separated from someone you love, someone you yearn for with each breath, each beat of your heart, and yet to have but one thing keeping you apart--distance.  An insurmountable distance, an expanse of not simply a few feet but of worlds, universes, infinities.  And what is there to do?  To pine away for one so far away seems pointless, hopeless, but when you are so deeply connected to them that even across the light years you can feel their love, feel the pull of attraction, how can you give up hope?  How can you let a love like that go?  How?

Distance.  I have come to hate that word and all it represents.  From the first time that I saw him, that I knew of his existence, I could not dream of being with anyone but him.  And yet, I could never reach him, never touch him, never hear his words of love; I could do not but look at him from afar and watch intently for the signs that he was looking back at me.

The first time I saw him, the first time I felt him, I had been out in the desert harvesting the violaceous fruits of the prickly pear.  I had lingered in the desert as the sun began to set, painting the skies with rich reds, deep blues, and vibrant purples.  I stood looking up at the vast heavens as the stars began to emerge within the oncoming darkness, shining brightly.  My head tilted back, I closed my eyes and savored the cool breeze tickling my skin, the fresh air scented with the sharp, fruity aroma of the prickly pear.  By the time I reopened my eyes, the skies were awash with starlight, decorating the heavens with those figures which I knew so well, whose shapes I could trace in the patterns on display above me.

Moreover, on this night, there was one star that gleamed more brightly than all the others, one star which drew my gaze inexorably.  As I watched, it glittered even more brightly in the night sky, seeming to thrive on my attention.  I brushed my hair out of my face and blinked slowly, eyes widening when the star seemed to wink back at me in response, its light extinguished momentarily before it glowed all the brighter.

For reasons unknown, my heart skipped a beat before beginning to swell, my skin flushing and my blood rushing through my veins.  It felt as if I were on fire, as if some of the star had taken up residence under my skin, burning me with a passion so pure and true it overwhelmed me.  Breathing ragged, limbs trembling, I hurriedly grabbed the fruit I had harvested and ran back home, the sense of being watched over persisting the entire way. . .

That night, I dreamed of a young man whose skin shone faintly through the dark, pale and luminous as the moon.  His hair was black as night, his eyes were glittering sparks of frosted sky.  He walked towards me from a path in the sky, following the Milky Way as it wound its way through the stars.  As he approached, my blood boiled, my heart pounded, and my breath caught in my chest.  I knew, without a doubt, that this ethereal young man was none other than the star, my star.  Soon he stood in front of me, his hand lifting and reaching out as if he were going to caress my face, and I leaned in, pulled towards him as if by gravity.  But before he could touch me he was forcefully pulled away, thrown back into the sky by an unstoppable might as I was hurled abruptly down to earth, where I woke suddenly in a cold sweat.

Day after day I visited the desert as the sun began to set, lying back on the sand to watch my star sparkle brightly above me, winking at me across the great chasm of space that separated us.  And each night I dreamed of the young man who lived in the star, always face to face with him but never able to touch him.  And as the days passed, I came to the realization that we could never be together, that the burning passion rushing through my veins would consume me entirely before I could be with the man I loved.  The distance, the space between us, it tortured me endlessly. . .

I began to lose the will to live, the will to carry on never knowing the touch and companionship of my love.  To be so close every night and yet never cross those final inches--I could not bear it.  And so I asked, begged, our tribe's witch woman for advice, and she traveled with me into the desert one night.  She crafted a potion from the plants around us, the brew seeming to absorb the colors first of the sunset and then of the night sky.

As I drank the potion, a tingling sensation began in my feet and traveled up through my body, sending shivers through my arms.  Before I knew what was happening, my feet had become roots, anchored firmly in the sandy soil around me.  My arms became branches, and where once I had inky black hair, now I had a crown of emerald leaves.  I would have let out a sound of despair if I had had a voice, for while the witch had transformed me, I was still far distant from the star youth, my radiant love.

But as my love looked down at my changed form from the heavens, he leaned out of the sky so far that he fell, tumbling down from his starry abode towards the unforgiving earth.  Again I wished to cry out, this time in anguish for him, my falling star, but was unable to give voice to my distress.  As I watched, wracked with pain but unable to stop his fall, the witch spoke a few soft words and I saw my star turn into a bright purple blossom that landed on my outstretched branches as fragments of his star powdered my leaves with a frosty white.  We touched, we became one, joined for all eternity, our souls mingling, melding, burning together.  For finally, finally, there was distance between us no more!


Author's Note.  I wrote this story because I have always loved the stars, and so the tale of a girl who fell in love with a star immediately intrigued me.  In the original, the story progresses much as it does here, with the star winking at the girl and her visiting the star every night in the desert and then again in her dreams.  The witch woman promises the girl a life with her star youth to keep the girl from killing herself, and transforms the girl and star into a beautiful desert shrub.  The color purple and the image of the sky kept appearing in my descriptions, so I decided to play off of those for the title--"amaranthine heavens" can thus be taken to mean either purple skies or eternal paradise, whichever you prefer, haha.  I hope you enjoyed my story!  (And sorry once again for the lack of dialogue, lol.)  Ciao!

Bibliography.  "The Maiden Who Loved a Star," story from When the Storm God Rides: Tejas and Other Indian Legends retold by Florence Stratton and illustrated by Berneice Burrough (1936).  UnTextbook.

Image Information.  Night sky in Punakaiki, New Zealand; photo from The WoW Style.

Week 10: Reading Diary--To Love the Sky and Steal Its Colors (Tejas Legends)

Let's see what other adorable/depressing characters and stories we encounter in the second half of the Tejas Legends reading unit. . .

11. Why Hummingbirds Drink Only Dew-  Who would have guessed that hummingbirds and herons like to bet?  Certainly not me.  Also, why would you agree that the loser of the bet could not drink out of any lakes ever again?  Ridiculous birds, haha.  And why can't hummingbirds fly at night?  Curious.  This is a pretty amusing tortoise and hare story, though.


12. The Maiden Who Loved a Star- Anybody ever tasted prickly pear jam?  Delicious!  I've always loved the stars and the night sky, and have spent many a long evening staring up at the stars above me.  So I can understand falling in love with a star if you dream that a handsome young man lives in a star and is watching and winking at you; I get it, haha.  How sad to be unable to leave your realm, though, in order to join with the person you are falling in love with. . . so tragic.  What a beautiful ending: the maiden becomes a gorgeous shrub and the star youth shatters into starry bits which land on the shrub and turn to blossoms, so that they may always be together throughout eternity.  *sigh*

13. Old Quanah's Gift-  I always love the people who are able to take an injury or an obstacle and use it to discover something new about themselves, such as a new talent.  Now I doubt I could ever learn to make blankets (and if I did no one would want them anyway, haha), but good work Quanah, lol.  Such dedication going into a single blanket--either that or he just wants to build the suspense for a big reveal.  Oh, melodrama!  Tell them that the blanket is for the best member of the tribe and then die and leave them to fight over it.  Good work, Old Quanah!  Earning the honor as being the best of your tribe posthumously; that takes skillz, lol.  And then you left fire wheel flowers for everybody else to share in the beauty of your blankets--so sweet!

14. How Sickness Entered the World-  Anybody else wondering why there were already medicine men before there was sickness in the world?  Like, a shaman I could understand, but a medicine man?  Weeeeiiirrrddd.  Oooooooooo; a snake as a good messenger--tricky, tricky.  Not really surprising that the young Indians killed it, if unfortunate.  So basically by passing the "hot potato" around they only made the situation worse. . . good work, people!  More sicknesses for everyone!!

15. Why the Irises Hold Hands-  It's almost a cycle, this tribes good fortune and cleverness:  they're clever, so the Great Spirit watches over them and helps them, which allows the tribe to spend more time in prosperity and pursuits other than survival, which the Great Spirit admires, which results in him giving them an even easier life, etc. etc.  Until, you know, the tribe disrespects the Great Spirit and everything goes wrong, haha.  Proud in life, proud in death, proud in reincarnation--oh, wild irises, your hubris was your downfall and your salvation!

16. The Pecan Tree's Best Friend-  Good branches make good neighbors. . . or is it good orioles?  Good fences, maybe?  I always get that saying confused. . .Lol.

17. When the Rainbow Was Torn-  Even rainbows are afraid of getting pricked by cacti!  Who knew, haha.  And maybe the rainbow was right to be afraid, seeing as the cacti stole the colors of the rainbow for their flowers.  For shame, cacti, for shame!

18. Paisano, Hater of the Rattlesnake-  I thought that the road runner was supposed to taunt the coyote, not hate the rattlesnake--didn't these Native Americans watch cartoons?  Get it right, lol.  At least they got the running of the road runner right; you know, legs so fast they're a blur, tongue hanging out mockingly. . .  Steal someone's job and they might just eat your children--you've been warned!

19. Maidens Who Broke a Drought-  I volunteer as tribute!  Haha.  The one story where the maidens beg to be thrown over a cliff to be eaten by a great serpent.  At least the tribe wasn't lacking sacrificial victims, I guess.

20. The Cottonwood Remembers-  An owl falling in love with a swan. . . I guess I could see it. . . Jk, I can't, that's just. . . just. . . insane!  Who-who-who indeed!  Didn't see that one coming, lol.  Awwww, poor pigeon!  But you can't really blame the owl; I mean, pigeons are delicious.  No joke there.

21. Why the Dog's Ears Flop-  You know, this story isn't too far off about how the domestication of dogs probably occurred--granted, it would have happened over a much longer timescale, but not too shabby!  Aww, poor puppy!  He was just talking with his own friends, and not only was he betrayed, he was also beaten by those he had simply wanted to help.  So sad. . .

Whelp, that seems to be it--another week, come and gone!  Now I'm off to get some gelato, so peace out, peeps!

Arrivederci!



Image Information.  Night Watcher; digital photomanipulation by Zed Lord-Art.  DeviantArt.
RAINbow; photomanipulation by pauii.  DeviantArt.

Week 10: Reading Diary--The Children of the Plains and the Little Lost Cloud (Tejas Legends)

I decided to read this unit after hearing about it from some of my peers in their storytelling posts and reading diaries.  Hopefully it lives up to my expectations and is an interesting and sometimes adorable unit, haha.  Here are my thoughts on some Tejas Legends!

1. When the Storm God Rides-  A couple of things about this story:  First, it seemed kinda repetitive to me.  Things stated in the beginning were restated in the end, something would be said at the end of one paragraph and then again in the beginning of the next paragraph, and the style was just. . . different.  A lot of reused descriptions and monikers, which is new.  This was a good intro story for the unit, though, I think.  Secondly, I find it interesting that the Indians weren't necessarily afraid of their god, but instead afraid of the god's thunder bird (which he rode)--so they were only afraid of the Storm God by proxy.  An intriguing twist.  All in all, a good etiological tale for the islands along the shores of Texas and the origin of the term "hurricane," and with just a hint of flood story in there, haha.

2. How the North Wind Lost His Hair-  A fight between two opposing winds--intriguing, tell me more!  The contrasting imagery for these two winds is just fantastic!  A young, warm, kind and gentle wind from the south versus the harsh old wind blowing fiercely from the north--so beautiful and poetic.  A reference back to the Storm God; niceeeee.  I can just picture these two giant, semi-solid figures crashing together in the skies, tearing down everything in their path as they fight for dominance. . . Loving this tale!  Anyone else reminded of Matilda at the end of this story; you know, the scene where Trunchbull hurls the girl outside of the schoolyard by her braids?  This is a great etiological tale for Spanish moss, so descriptive and vivid you can just see it in your mind as you read. . .

3. The Plant That Grows in Trees-  This thunder bird just frightens everyone!  People, birds, mistletoe--who's next?!  Oh, just kidding.  The mistletoe isn't afraid of the thunder bird, 'cause the thunder bird was kind enough (?) to take pity on the plant.  It put the mistletoe up in a tree where it would be safe from harm; so sweet, haha.

4. Why the Woodpecker Pecks-  There was once a woodpecker which liked to peck on the roof above my bedroom closet every morning around 4 am.  For a while it actually had me convinced there was a ghost knocking from inside my closet--true story, especially since it was believable as we live in a really old house and all.  Yup.  But onto the actual tale. . . How odd that here it was a boy that initiated the "sin" of eating the mescal buttons, versus the woman who usually leads others to temptation (such as in the story of Adam and Eve).  Kind of a sad ending, but one fitting the actions of the parents.  Seriously, leaving the children alone while you go and get high is just stupid and frankly criminal.  Though now the sound of a woodpecker is always going to be a kind of melancholy sound, seeing as it's the sound of parents looking for their hidden and long-lost children.

5. The Woodpecker's Stumpy Tail-  Poor woodpecker, letting your tail get bit off by a fish.  Whatever were you thinking?  Haha.  And another flood!  Not quite a creation myth flood story, but still!  Why are flood stories so ubiquitous and significant in religion and mythology?. . .

6. Old Woolly Bird's Sacrifice-  A story with a flood followed by a story with a drought; huh.  I am still reveling in the imagery in this stories; you can just see the scenes unfolding before you--you don't even have to try.  And yet the stories are short and simple, and the wording concise.  Fantastic.  Such altruism!  I'm picturing this feeble but kind old grandpa, you know, the one everyone adores and whose stories leave everyone in awe of his history.  So sad to think that he felt like a burden (even if a noble notion at its heart), though at least the people came and found him to show that he was worth something to them.  Gorgeous ending, just. . . gorgeous.  The sacrifice of noble elders bring an end to the drought, and the elders themselves are turned into lovely magnolia flowers as a show of respect for their bravery.  Wonderful!

7. A Tribe That Left Its Shoes-  This is the way the world ends, not with a whisper but a bang.  For some say the world will end in fire, some say in water.  (I apologize for the terrible adaptations of two fantastic poems, but I just had to.  It was the first thing that popped into my mind, as odd as that is, haha.)  And now Hansel and Gretel have left a trail of moccasins to lead them home--if only there was a home to go to. . .  That's fascinating; so do the lady slipper orchids always point south?  I would love to do some research and figure out why that must be.  <--Goodness, I'm such a biology nerd, lol.

8. The Cloud That Was Lost-  Poor clouds, shoved into each other like nothing so much as bumper cars by the pushy wind and perspiring due to the heat of the sun.  No wonder they get tired and rest on the mountains every night!  Haha.  A cloud described as chasing its tail like a puppy--O. M. G.  So freaking adorable, lol.  Awwwwww, don't cry!  It'll be okay, little lost cloud!  :(  I don't know whether this should be a happy or sad ending, because at least the little cloud is no longer lost--though the alternative is being drank up by flowers for the wonderful pink and lavender colors that had colored the cloud.  An adorable and yet somewhat sad little story.

9. The Swift Blue One-  I still find it hard to imagine a time when the Native Americans didn't have horses--I know that such a time existed, have learned it time and time again, but horses and Native Americans have been so closely entwined in all of the imagery and media we experience that it is still a somewhat difficult concept to grasp. . . Anyways, this was a really interesting story, but that's all I'm gonna write about it.  Read it on your own, lol.

10. Grandmother River's Trick-  I got to see some alligator gar in Lake Texoma this fall, and got to wonder about how I had been wading in those same waters a couple hours earlier and would be wading in them again a couple hours later; a terrifying thought, but gar are just so fascinating that I determined not to be scared and let my ecological curiosity get the best of me, lol.  But good work, Grandmother River, for relegating those nasty, greedy garfish to separate ponds away from all of the cute little fish!


And there it is, part A of my readings for week 10!  The semester is just going by so quickly. . . I mean, I'm only a week and a half or so away from finishing this class!  Like, what?!  Then you'll have to find some other random blogger's thoughts to read, haha.

Ciao!


Image Information.  Stormy skies; photo by Fir0002, 2005.  Wikimedia.
Summer Magnolia blossom; photo by Hans, 2014.  Pixabay.

Week 9: Famous Last Words--Steve Jobs & L. Frank Baum

"Oh wow.  Oh wow.  Oh wow."

Soooo. . . Where to begin?!  So many places seen, so much done, so many things experienced.  Spring break was, in a word. . . AWESOME.  We started off in London, moved on to Dublin for a day (which happened to be St. Patrick's Day), then ended in Berlin before heading back "home" to Arezzo.  Three countries over the course of like 8-9 days.  It was incredible, if exhausting.

Of course, since my 2-3 day weekend trips require a ton of writing in themselves (and I still have not had time to catch up on adding pictures to some of the posts!), this post is going to come in segments.  Thus, this is actually Week 9:  Famous Last Words, pt. 1.  And, since I have lots of work to catch up on, soccer and D&D to play, classes to enroll in, and meals to eat, this post is going to be a summary of my various days this week--to give you a taste of how exciting and exhausting it really was, haha.  Here goes nothing!

Alrighty.  So, first things first, on Friday the 13th we spent most of the day traveling--walking to the train station, taking a couple of trains to the Rome FCO airport, flying into London Gatwick, taking a train to Victoria, then walking to our hostel.  After checking into our hostel, we promptly turned in.

Day two, Saturday 14, we started off the day by venturing to King's Cross station and searching for platform 9 3/4.  (In case you couldn't guess, I'm a massive HP fan; more to come on that later, haha.)  We went to the little HP store by the platform, then took our picture at the trolley.  Moving on, we headed off to Green Park for a free tour of some of the big sites of London, meeting by the statue of Diana and listening to a street player playing the sax as we waited for the tour to start.  We visited Buckingham palace, other royal residences, saw some guards (I even got a response from one--a nod, but better than nothing!  Lol), walked to Trafalgar Square, saw Downing St, the Houses of Parliament, and the tower holding Big Ben, ending in front of Westminster Abbey.  Following the tour we grabbed a quick lunch and headed off by train and bus to Harry Potter Studios, because why the heck not?!  We spent hours and hours there, seeing the sets and the costumes and the props, listening to the audio tour, drinking butterbeer, and reliving our childhoods, haha.  After heading back into London we went to a pub for some fish and chips then headed off to bed.

Day three, Sunday 15, we started off in Churchill's war rooms, exploring this WWII bunker and all of the exhibits it contained.  We progressed from here to the Tower of London, getting an informative tour from a yeoman and then exploring the white tower, viewing the crown jewels, listening to the royal choir in the chapel, walking the battlements, passing by traitor's gate, and walking under the bloody tower.  We crossed Tower Bridge having picked up some hot dogs from a street vendor, heading down towards and then crossing the London Bridge, passing an interesting band of people dancing and playing their way through 10 bridges as a 10k.  We went to the Globe Theatre next, taking a tour and visiting the exhibits inside.  With some time to spare, we headed to the London Bridge Experience (an interesting, interactive tour of the bridge's history ending with a horror maze, haha), passing through a cool little market on the way.  We wandered around, ending up under the Shard, before crossing Millenium Bridge and grabbing some caramel-roasted peanuts as we headed off to Hyde Park.  At Hyde Park we watched the sunset over the water and some birds before meeting up with some other friends for a roast dinner at another pub.  Another day, gone!

Day four, Monday 16, we started off at the National Gallery, where we viewed Monet's Waterlilies and the third Battle of San Romano.  (We have now seen all three parts:  one in Florence's Uffizi, one in Paris's Louvre, and one in London's National Gallery!  What?!  Haha.)  After a couple of hours there, I headed off to tour Westminster Abbey, admiring the Gothic architecture and finding the tombs of Charles Darwin, Isaac Newton, various royalty and writers, and so many more.  Overwhelming doesn't even begin to describe it. . . Next was the British Museum, where I started off with the Egyptian section (with the Rosetta Stone and mummies!!!), then heading off to tour the rest of the vast museum.  Of course an alarm had to go off as I was finishing the Americas section, so we got evacuated out of the exhibit for a good 20 minutes or so before being allowed back in, where I randomly met up with some friends I hadn't even known would be there.  From the museum, my trio rushed off to the train station, where we searched for a quick dinner before heading off to the airport for a late flight to Dublin.

Day five, Tuesday 17, we took a bus from near our bnb into the city center of Dublin, where we promptly lined up a couple hours in advance of the start of the parade.  With it only drizzling for a short while (thank goodness), we stood in the crush of people to view the various bands and floats and such in the parade, heartily enjoying the creativity of the Irish community and the bagpipe bands while being astonished at the number of American marching bands, haha.  From there we took a walking tour of the city which passed through castles and parks and ended up in St. Patrick's cathedral.  We then asked a guard/policeman for advice on where to eat dinner, and were directed to an '80s style diner called Eddie Rocket's.  After a Paddy O' Shake and a delicious burger and fries, we weaved our way through the crowds to take a bus back to where our bnb was, stopping by an Irish pub for a drink (my first hard cider!) in more of a locals' bar, enjoying the genuine Irish atmosphere.  We turned in early, around 10 pm, in preparation for our departure by taxi the next morning at 5:30 am.

Day six, Wednesday 18, my friends were forced to check their bags planeside and then our plane ended up sitting on the tarmac for almost 2 hours before taking off.  Thanks to another delay at baggage claim at Schonefeld in Berlin, we didn't board a train and arrive in the city itself until after 12 in the afternoon.  Our hostel was surprisingly clean and nice for us staying in a 42 person room (no joke), and ended up being Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy themed, funnily enough.  (Sadly I knew exactly what the "Don't Panic!" and whale and flowerpot meant, and recognized all of the quotes too. . . I am such a geek. . . )  We asked for a restaurant recommendation and ended up at a local place called Sophieneck, then wandered around, visiting a synagogue, the TV Tower, Rathaus and Neptune fountain at Alexanderplatz, the Berlin Dom and nearby bridges, the Brandenburger Tor and Reichstag, and the Tiergarten.  We grabbed currywurst from a street vendor for dinner, than turned in early once again.

Day seven, Thursday 19, I decided to walk with my one friend all the way across the city to Schloss Charlottenburg--a good hour and a half long walk to start off the day, haha.  Then I split off on my own to visit my grandma's cousin--my cousin twice removed, in case you were wondering about the relation, haha--navigating the U-bahn on my own.  (So many metros in so many different countries and cities, I could write a book about my experiences, haha.)  My "cousin" was amazing, so kind and smart and engaging, and I am so glad I had the chance to meet her.  She took me up through Pottsdam, across the bridge where they exchanged spies in WWII, past the spot where a conference between Johnson, Stalin, and Churchill took place, up to Sanssouci--another palace, though probably prettier than the first and with more extensive gardens.  Plus there was a random flute player (because Frederick the Great, whose summer palace this was, placed the flute), a windmill that looked like it belonged in the Netherlands, and Frederick the Great's grave covered by potatoes next to the graves of his 11 dogs.  We ate a delicious lunch at the Drakenhaus--outside of course, since it was a beautiful day--and then headed back to her house where she made me tea and rhubarb pie as we talked some more before I had to leave to meet back up with my friends.  Another friend had joined us in Berlin at this point, so the four of us headed off to dinner at a bierhall before turning in.

Day eight, Friday 20, sitting in the hostel eating breakfast, I learned in an email from my "cousin" that there was to be a solar eclipse over Berlin, starting in, oh, 15 minutes or so.  Of course we all rushed down towards the Brandenburger Tor and the Tiergarten, buying some dorky-looking glasses we could stare at the eclipse through and watching the passage of the moon over the sun from a bunch in the garden while drinking Starbucks (hey, why not?  haha).  We then took a Sandemann's tour of Berlin, learning lots of neat stories about places and people and the history of the city, seeing the hotel where Michael Jackson Simba'd his infant child, learning about Napoleon stealing the statue off the Brandenburger Tor, seeing the Holocaust memorial and the site of Hitler's bunker, visiting the Berlin wall and the former headquarters of the Luftwaffe (now a finance office, fittingly, haha), and passing by Checkpoint Charlie back towards a beautiful square.  Once again we grabbed a currywurst off the street as we headed back to the Holocaust Museum where we spent a few hours before going to the Topography of Terror museum/exhibit.  By Checkpoint Charlie once again, we grabbed bratwurst and Coke from a schoolbus (they literally sold food out of a converted schoolbus with a California license plate, lol), then headed back to the hostel before splitting off in two pairs for the night.  I went with one friend to an Irish bar in a cool district by the one train station, where we drank hard cider while listening to live country music and getting hit on and dancing with drunk English guys there as part of a bachelor party--a fun and hysterical experience, haha.

Day nine, Saturday 21, I went out walking on my own in the morning, where the streets were oddly deserted and most places closed though it was already 8:30, 9am.  I saw a cute miniature bookstore that I resolved to go back to when it was open and found a cute street of artsy stores and restaurants and cafes.  Meeting back up with my friends at the hostel, we headed out for a tour of Sachsenhousen concentration camp, a depressing tour (to whose atmosphere the sudden persistent rain added), though an intriguing and emotional one.  Our tour guide was also phenomenal, but of course after that experience we needed cheering up so we went to. . . a chocolate store!!  And not just any chocolate store, but one with sculptures and a chocolate lava volcano and lots and lots and lots of premium chocolate to buy.  So, after buying tons of chocolate, I headed off on my own to explore again the street of shops I had found in the morning (now that the stores were open!) and buy some souvenirs.  After lots of exploring and a few purchases, I wandered back past Alexanderplatz to meet my friends for dinner at the Hofbrau Munchen bierhall, where we enjoyed a delicious dinner while listening to a German band dressed in liederhosen and drinking a half-liter of beer (my first full beer, and surprisingly good based off of the few sips of beer I'd had in the past, haha--though a bit much).  Following that rowdy experience we headed back to the hostel, and by 10:30 the next morning we were heading by train and bus to Tegel airport, from which we flew back to Italy.

Day ten, Sunday 22, was thus spent traveling.  Metro, bus, plane, bus, train, and then finally a short walk back to my apartment back in Arezzo.  Following this was hours of Skyping family, unpacking, and a bit of homework before bed--in my own bedroom, without tens of snoring strangers, haha.  And that was that--my spring break, survived and enjoyed!!!


So, after that long spiel that is indeed a shortened version of my spring break adventures, you can see why I might be a little exhausted.  But, of course, there is much to catch up on and even more to do, so we shall see if I can manage to survive the semester without keeling over, haha.  More to come on spring break later (hopefully including lots of pictures)!

Hope you all had a fantastic spring break!  Arrivederci!!!   :)

"Now I can cross the Shifting Sands."

Image Information.  Personal photo from March 20th, showing a helicopter flying over the Berlin Wall at sunset.

Week 9: Extra Reading Diary--Myriad Creation Stories, Fires, and Floods (California and the Old Southwest)

Since I'm going to be an experiencing over a week with minimal internet access and only my nook for reading materials, I decided I should stock up on intriguing stories for spring break--so, instead of writing an essay, you all get to enjoy some more of my ramblings on random Native American tales.  Woo!  Haha.  Here are some notes on the tales of California and the Old Southwest!

1. Three Coyote Creation Stories-  (1) I can definitely see the imagery of an eagle's feathers making the trees, bushes, and plants--especially firs and ferns.  I find it interesting that man was created in a quarrel between Coyote and Fox, but I guess that's one way to explain why people die; at least Coyote was nice enough to bring us fire after granting us the privilege of death.  (2)  So this time, rather than Coyote creating the earth out of nothing, a mole does.  Interesting. . . And Great Man creates the people rather than Coyote and Fox!  Poor Coyote is really getting downgraded in importance here, haha.  At least he still got to bring us fire and save us from the cold!  (3)  What is it with ancient cultures and flood stories?  Or religions and flood stories?  Seriously, though, they're everywhere!  It really makes you wonder. . . And this time, the feathers create people rather than trees--then again, that's pretty much the same thing, right?  Lol.

2. The Creation of the World- To picture a god who is like nothing more than a "fluffy bit of cotton in the breeze" as he  decides to create the earth. . . Now that's an image.  And then you have the Earth Doctor trying four times--four times--to stand the creosote bush up without it falling over.  There's just something so perfect about such a human god. . .  To think that the creosote came first, the ants and termites next, and then the flat World; fascinating.  No Atlas here; instead, a spider wove the sky and earth together.  The moon and sun are naught but ice, apparently.  The stars are water droplets in the sky, and the milky way is ash from the end of the Earth Doctor's staff. . . I just love the imagery of this story!

3. Spider's Creation-  Spider creates woman first--smart choice, haha.  Interesting that the Indians had one woman as mother, while all other nations had the second woman as mother--it really sets the Indians apart as separate, other, doesn't it?  And here, while Spider creates all of the animals and plants and the waters and such, the mothers themselves create the sun, moon, and stars, an interesting departure from the themes of the other tales.

4. The Great Fire; The Origin of Light-  (1) Wow; a man so spurned by two women that he sets the world alight.  Harsh.  And Coyote only able to save two boys, and forced to make men and women anew. . . (2) Can you imagine all the animals bumping into each other because they are unable to see?  Hahaha.  But here, the sun and moon are balls of fire, so that's different.

5. Creation of Man-  A man with supposedly the best qualities of all of the animals. . . If only it were actually so, haha.

6. Old Man Above and the Grizzlies-  "Walk on two feet and carry a big stick!"--It's no wonder people compared Teddy Roosevelt to a bear, lol.  Awwwww!  But the Grizzlies only helped her, they didn't do anything wrong!  Old Man Above, why would you punish them like that?!

7. The Creation of Man-kind and the Flood-  Wow.  So when people run out of food and can't die, they are "obliged to eat each other."  I mean, I guess it's only a logical progression, but just. . . ugh *shudder*  I really don't blame the Earth Doctor for pulling down the sky and crushing everything yet alive on earth. . . And here comes the flood, 'cause apparently even the second model of man wasn't quite right.  But at least now we have Coyote!

8. The Great Flood-  So it is due to a flood that we got so many of our famous constellations, such as Ursa Major and the Pleiades--interesting.

9. The Fable of the Animals-  Well, the whole thing about a plan backfiring on a coyote is the entire premise of Wile E. Coyote, so there's nothing new there.  However, it is interesting that the backfiring of this plan led to Coyote gaining the greatest cunning.  Also, it's odd to think that while Coyote may be more cunning, technically he's weaker than even Frog, haha.

10. The Course of the Sun-  A story of not only how the sun came to pass from east to west (he liked that road the best!), how he stops for meals at various points (such as at his highest point at noon he stops for lunch), and what the sun wears.  A very intriguing story indeed. . .

11. The Theft of Fire-  A more detailed version of the story of how Coyote helped man steal fire.  Also the story of how the ground-squirrel got its tail and stripes (it was charred during the theft, lol).  Additionally, can anyone here actually rub dry sticks/wood together to make fire?  I haven't tried often, but the couple times I did I failed miserably, haha.

12. Coyote, Tortillas, and Mesquite Beans-  (1)  Wow.  That woman just drowned Coyote because she didn't want to give him a tortilla.  I mean, really, she could have just ignored him and kept going rather than goading him into drowning.  Goodness.  (2) And this time, Coyote decided to eat a bug and mesquite beans that had survived the flood and exploded because of it.  At least this time he was warned not to do it rather than being goaded into his death. . .


That's all, folks!  Have a fantastic spring break!!!  :D

Arrivederci!


Image Information.  California Valley Coyote (Canis latrans clepticus); photo by Justin Johnsen.  Wikipedia.

Week 9: Storytelling--A Shadow White as Snow

When I first saw him, I was amazed by his strength, his independence, his masculine beauty.  I had heard the sounds of construction, of blades cutting wood and skins, of nails being pounded into wood and bone--so, curious, I followed the noise to the scene.  He stood there, bare-chested, ebony hair hanging around his face, bending over some wooden rods that he was lashing together with tough sinew, sweating in the sunlight.  Padding silently closer, I hid behind some low-lying shrubs and watched as he worked tirelessly to complete his home, creating a wooden and bone framework on which to suspend animal hides.  I sat and watched him, tail swishing contentedly behind me, as night fell and he deemed his house complete.

As the man vanished from my sight, I headed off into the night, using the light of the moon to guide me as I hunted.  But even as I enjoyed the thrill of the chase, the satisfaction of the catch, my mind kept turning back to the lone man who had appeared in my territory.  Why had he come?  Would he stay, or would he soon leave?  Did he have someone that would be coming to join him, or was he alone, isolated, like me?

Weeks passed in which I spent my days following the man as he hunted and gathered supplies, preparing for the long winter.  When night fell, he would disappear into his house and I would go off to do my own hunting, returning in the morning before he would depart for that day's tasks.  Sometimes I thought that he sensed me following, saw me disappearing and blending into the white of the snow, and that he reveled in the companionship I brought him in his isolation, his constant shadow. . .

Soon I realized that the man, my man, neither knew or had time to keep a house.  His home was growing dirtier and more disarrayed by the day, skins were left hanging unscraped, boots and clothes went unwashed, and more often than not he would stay up late into the evening in order to prepare his food starting only after he returned home from a long day's work.  I feared that he would be unprepared for the harsh months to come, that he would wear himself out or fall ill, and my heart stuttered in my chest at thought of him dying in this icy wilderness.

Thus I resolved to help this man, the man I had fallen in love with as he struggled to survive alone in the harsh, snowy North.  The next morning, after I returned from my night's hunt, I waited until he left his home and then--rather than silently shadowing him, as usual--I cautiously entered his house, his domain.  My paws left tracks in the dirt as I wandered inside, and I admired the construction of the dwelling even as I noted all the work that needed to be done.  Yet I knew that in my current form I would be able to do little to no good. . .

And so, with a gentle shiver and a few softly spoken words, I shed my gleaming white fur, hanging my skin on the back of a chair as I took human shape.  Quickly and quietly, I worked at setting the house aright, scraping and hanging the animal skins, cleaning his boots, washing and hanging his clothes, preparing a hot meal and setting it over a warm fire to simmer--all the things a woman does for her beloved husband, for that was what I wished to be for him.

Before the man returned, I retrieved my fur from the chair and donned it once again, settling comfortably back into my skin.  I padded silently out of the house, sitting at the edge of the clearing in which his house stood and waiting for his arrival.  When the man did return, he marveled at what I had done, reaching out his hand to touch the skins and the laundry, picking up the boots to check their sheen, stirring and sipping the stew to assure himself it all was real.  He then wandered back out into the clearing, looking around to see who could have done this.  I swear, his azure eyes paused when they met mine before continuing to search the shadows. . .

This pattern went on for quite some time, I entering the man's dwelling and doing a wife's duty while he was away, he returning from his chores and looking around in wonder, searching for the perpetrator of these acts.  Soon his curiosity grew too much for him, and then everything changed.

One day he left, but I could tell that he hadn't gone far.  Sensing that today would be different, I looked around more cautiously before entering his home, observing everything around me with a quiet alertness.  I sat in the house for a time in my natural shape, only shedding my skin after nearly an hour had gone by without incident.  I gently hung my skin up on the chair back and began my day's chores, singing softly under my breath as I worked.  Perhaps I should blame my human form's weakened senses, or perhaps I should admit to myself that I was hoping that it would happen--who knows?  What I do know is that not long after I had set to work, I turned at the sound of a gasp from the doorway and froze when I saw the man standing there with a look of shock.

I looked over to my skin, debating whether or not I should put it on and attempt to escape, but my glance caused the man to shift attention as well.  He did a double-take, looking from the skin to myself and back again, blue eyes widening as he realized who I was, what I was.  He uttered a simple three words--"It was you. . ."

His voice trailed off, and silence fell around us once more.  I reached for my snowy-white pelt, but before I could grab it the man laid hold of it himself and caressed it gently.  Glancing back towards me, he pierced me with an enrapturing gaze, murmuring under his breath once again.  "It was you. . ."

Author's Note.  So I picked this tale partially because I love foxes and transformation stories, but also because the abrupt ending of this tale struck me as kind of odd.  In the original, the man simply asks about the musky odor around the house, and then the fox-woman takes offense and leaves.  I decided to expand upon the building attraction, the way the fox would have fallen for the man and began to act on his behalf, and the shock the man must have felt in discovering that it was a fox-woman who had been helping him around his house.  Hope you enjoyed this story!  Ciao!

Bibliography.  "The Fox-Woman," story from Tales of the North American Indians by Stith Thompson (1929).  UnTextbook.

Image Information.  Polarfuchs/Eisfuchs (Arctic Fox); photo by Marcel Burkhard.  Wikimedia.
Arctic fox; photo by Dr. Robert Franz.  Wilderness Committee.

Week 9: Reading Diary--Dog-Men, Deer-Men, and Turkeys--Why Not? (Native American Marriage Tales)

Getting right back to the violent fun of Native American Marriage Tales. . .

12. The Dog-Husband-  The whole thing with a person being fond of a dog I get, but then the dog being a werewolf-type thing is an interesting, Twilight-esque twist lol.  Wow; can you see racist?  Why can't a person have a relationship with a dog-man, anyway?  And I feel like leaving a person to die because of a relationship is a little extreme.  Can you imagine giving birth to puppies and then caring for them as if they were legitimate children rather than puppies?  What do you even do?  But you would have thought that she would suspect them of being dog-men as well, seeing as their father could change his shape--I mean, if a dog-men has sex with a full-woman, than you would expect that the children would be 3/4 man and only more likely to take human form, right?  (Don't even attempt to follow that logic, haha.)  You shame the woman for having dog-children, but then as soon as they start catching whales with their mother's instruction you come back to them and make them your chiefs?  Their logic/reasoning might be worse than mine. . .

13-14. The Youth Who Joined the Deer-  At least the man at first thought that what he was doing was wrong and that he should go back to his wife and children; I mean, that's a step in the right direction towards respecting your wife, right?  Oh, stupid, stupid, men. . .  "Go hunt for us, we will even send out some of our own people so that you can kill them and we can all dine on their flesh." <--this, the logic of deer-people.  Oooooh, okay.  So the deer can be killed as long as you keep their bones to throw in the water and bring them back to life.  Totally understandable and all.  And who wouldn't be anxious to be killed for the benefit of the people if you're just to be brought to life again?  It actually really intrigues me that the deer-woman would want to return with the hunter to his home tribe--though I guess they have to return sometime if they're to teach the natives the proper way to hunt deer.  Loved this story!  Very intriguing, if a little odd at times, haha.

15-17. The Girl and the Turkeys- Pretty sure this is going to be a Cinderella-esque tale, but we shall wait and see. . . They don't even give her hand-me-downs--no, they have to give her old, worn-out rags instead.  Why?  Why are people so cruel at times?  Beautiful but with ragged and dirty clothes, kind to all animals and longing for kindness, humble and poor--yeah, I'm guessing this is the Native American Cinderella story.  (I actually read this story once when I was a kid--the Zuni version--though not this particular version.  It's interesting to read it again and compare and contrast it with all of the Cinderella stories that I've read/watched since.  Who knew turkeys could be so kind and had such a great fashion sense?  I sure didn't!  Can I have a turkey to do my hair and makeup every morning?  Though, that would be such a weird ritual, haha.  Awww, noooo!  She abandoned her turkeys, they ran off to the hills and she is left as she was before. . . What a depressing ending.  :(

18-21. The True Bride- [This was an interesting tale, but since I commented so much on the other stories I decided to just read and enjoy this one rather than do my whole stream-of-consciousness thing.  Apologies if this disappoints you!]


And there you have it, folks!  Another unit come and gone, and just in time for a busy but insanely awesome spring break, haha.  Woooooo!!!

Ciao!


Image Information.  Girl with dog; photo by amayaeguizabal, 2014.  Pixabay.

Week 9: Reading Diary--Something Old, Something New. . . (Native American Marriage Tales)

I've picked this unit for many reasons:  one, I find it an intriguing concept to have a marriage between an animal and a human; two, I like that this unit includes stories from various tribes/traditions; three, why not?  Haha.  So here we go, time to read some Native American Marriage Tales!!

1. The Piqued Buffalo-Wife-  Soooo. . . This story just jumps right into it, now doesn't it?  It's almost like a reverse Zeus and Europa deal--a man raping a helpless buffalo-cow.  Though the mystery of the boy born of this "union" going into camps during the day but then disappearing at night is intriguing.  It's odd to think that a boy who never knew his father could recognize him so easily in large crowds of men.  Well at least this time the man allowed the buffalo the opportunity to change form; though how she could so easily accept him as a husband I don't quite understand. . . Can you say temper?  Striking out at your wife with a flaming stick because she doesn't want to cook dinner one time.  Screw you, man; you are really messed up.  So the boy could recognize his father without ever having seen him, but even after the father interacted with the calf-boy he still couldn't recognize him the third time?!  I honestly don't think the guy deserved to be resurrected after being trampled, cruel as that may sound; he is just a terrible person/father.

2. Bear-Woman and Deer-Woman-  Well now.  It seems the stories are not to get any less disturbing, seeing as this tale starts with Grizzly biting Doe's head off--and then cooking it in front of both her own children and those of Doe.  Naturally, this means Doe's fawns kill Grizzly's cubs and feed Grizzly her cubs' hands--and then taunt her for it.  And, in the end, Grizzly dies and the fawns live on.  Totally a "happy ending". . .

3-5. Splinter-Foot-Girl-  A child born from the infected leg of a warrior. . . that's a new one, haha.  You have this beautiful, miraculous girl and you name her Foot-stuck-child?  What?  Apparently, if you are unable to convince someone of something, you just need to send a series of more silver-tongued birds in as a proxy until the person finally agrees.  If it works for marriage, it must work in every other realm of life, right?  That was a very underhanded (or should I say undergrounded? what a terrible pun. . .) thing to do, stealing the girl from her bull husband using a tunnel through the ground underneath her.  Why does the girl have to be the weakest/first one to tire?  Stupid sexism.  Wow; so tired that she had a small hemorrhage, that's. . . intense.  How far did they travel?!  That is one brave talking tree.  I wish I could meet him.  Who would have guessed that a round rock would make a terrible husband?  I mean, he's just so stony and cold and harsh. . .  lol.  If I kick a ball into the air, does that mean I get to rise up in the air as well?  'Cause that could be aweeesomeee.  Oooooh, living in a tent of the stars in the sky. . . there could be no better ending than that, now could there?

6. The Eagle and Whale Husbands-  Am I the only one who is envious of the girls getting to play with animal bones on the beach?  That would just be fascinating. . .  Ooooh, stolen by an eagle and a whale, ouch.  Though the escape by kayak would be fun--I've always loved kayaking, haha.  A life of picking lice off of your husband's body while tied to the bottom of the sea--what more could you want?  (Answer:  everything and anything else.)  Taking off your clothing can be so distraction for guys. . .

7. The Fox-Woman- I love the stories of mythological creatures who shed their skins to become human!  It's just so. . . magical.  And I've always loved foxes, too, so let's just say that this story is pretty dang fantastic for me.  Though this story ended a little oddly and abruptly, so that was disappointing.

8. The Woman Stolen by Killer Whales- Kill a killer whale and your wife will be stolen by its friends as vengeance; true story.  Enter the helpful Shark, who helps all fisherman hunt down the orcas who steal wives.  Wow.  I mean, wow.  The husband didn't have to do anything, he just stayed outside the killer whales' dwelling while the clever Shark did all the work rescuing the wife.  I just hope that Shark was able to survive the severe fight that he was embroiled in when the fisherman and his wife ran off. . .

9. The Rolling Head-  Dang.  Can you imagine leaving your wife everyday to provide for the family, only to discover she was cheating on you with a giant snake in your absence?  Marriage can certainly be sordid and heartbreaking.  Not that that makes it okay to cut up your wife and serve her to your children, but still, that hurts.  And can you imagine being the children, eating your mother unawares and then being chased by her rolling head as she yells at you for eating her?  *shudder*  Nightmares, so many nightmares. . .  And then to have those children end up with such a great life, only to turn on their father by setting lions upon him--I'm not quite sure what I think of this story.

10-11. The Bear-Woman- Now I have a guess at where my sisters go when they need some time alone--obviously they go into the woods to meet their bear-lovers, lol.  Though I guess I shouldn't inform my dad of their indiscretions, or he might go out and kill all the bears in the area to make sure they couldn't marry my sisters.  You have to wonder: did the older sister use the opportunity of being turned into a bear to take revenge on all of the men in the camp who had killed her lover, or was she a slave to the nature of her transformed bear-self?  Just swim through the lake, stupid violent bear-woman!  Not that I want you to catch your innocent siblings, but at least fail with intelligence and common sense!  Oh, this is the etiological myth of the Big Dipper!  Cool beans.


And there it is, the first half of what is/will most definitely be a very fascinating unit!

Arrivederci!


Image Information.  Female bison with a calf; photo by Erwin and Peggy Bauer.  Public Domain Images.
Young Huntress with her Eagle; photo by Asher Svidensky.  BBC News.
The "Great Wain" seen from Berlin; photo by Manfred Wassmann, 2011.  Wikipedia.

Week 8: Famous Last Words--Josephine Baker

"Oh, you young people act like old men.  You are no fun."

Ah, sweet Paris, where there are performers and armed policemen on the streets--is there a more blatant contradiction to be found?  Bridges of love locks breaking bridges, saints walking around without heads, random men in masks walking around and startling people for laughs, myriad musicians playing "La Vie en Rose" on the streets.  And lots and lots of art and flashing Eiffel Tower souvenirs, of course!

So this weekend I left Italy for the first time since flying into Rome, adding another country to my list--France!  I got to take a train into Pisa, so that I could fly to Paris-Beauvais, in order to take a bus to Porte Maillot, where I could then finally take a metro into the main city center of Paris; planes, trains, and automobiles, indeed.

After stopping by our hostel, "Arty Paris," my friends and I went back to the city center to visit Notre Dame, stopping along the road to buy delicious crepes and sandwiches from a vendor. . .


[So much more to come, but I have an art history review session to head to, so I will resume this post later!  Arrivederci.]

[Review session over, a delicious dinner at Mariano's eaten, a Skype call home, and now back to Paris!]


. . . Upon arriving at Notre Dame, we took a brief break to eat lunch while sitting along the wall and staring up at the church while taking numerous photos, haha.  We then started looking around for our Sandeman's tourguide, who was nowhere to be found--so instead, we tagged along with a "Discovery Tour" led by a local Parisian, which was pretty awesome, if a little short.  We got to learn about St. Denis, who carried his head a few miles to the site where his church would be built in the future (after being beheaded, of course)--and don't worry, he could still communicate and all, regardless of the beheadedness, haha.  We got to see the myriad places where the architect who restored Notre Dame incorporated his own face (ah, vanity!), and measured how far underwater we would have been in one of the great centennial floods--one of which is coming up anytime now, so beware!  Then we got to see a love-lock bridge (illegal because it destroys the bridge due to the extra tonnage of the locks), to see where Ratatouille theoretically took plance, and to listen to a guitar player singing La Vie en Rose.  All in all, a great start to the trip!

We then walked into the (free) section of Notre Dame open to the public, admiring the beauty and majesty of the church and its great rose windows.  By the time we were planning to leave, a mass was starting, and so we of course stayed to see the beginning of that, which only helped to emphasize the sacred and majestic atmosphere of the church.

After singing along to a few of the psalms, we headed out to see the archaeological ruins outside of and underneath Notre Dame.  It was definitely interesting to see all of the different levels of the city, how it grew and evolved over the years and became what we recognize today.  Plus, there were lots of cool maps and images and recreations and models and things to stare at, so that was awesome.  Woo ruins!!!

Next we headed off to see some other buildings and things in the city.  We wandered through a bit of the Latin Quarter, headed off toward the somewhat elusive Pantheon--which we found, surprisingly without too much trouble.  Thanks to student visas/my Permisso di Soggiorno (which shows that I am now officially a resident of Italy--what whatttt!), this was another free entry.  The Pantheon was quite different from that in Rome, with a photograph of a group of people decorating the inside of the dome and a few grand statues and some stories of legendary France depicted on the walls.  The coolest part of this building was, by far, the CRYPT.  Honestly, it felt like the crypt was infinitely larger than the upstairs, filled with graves of notable individuals such as Rousseau, Voltaire, Marie Curie, Victor Hugo, Alexander Dumas, and many many more.  Definitely worth the freezing cold hands I suffered, haha.

So after that, we went down another street (from which we could see the Eiffel Tower) towards the Luxembourg Palace and Gardens, where we roamed around for a little while observing the grounds and the palace's exterior.  Running a little short on time, we went from there to a crepe place besides a little church for dinner, passing some armed policemen with riot shields and batons along the way (there were lots and lots of armed policemen and army men carrying semiautomatic weapons in Paris--somewhat frightening, but also kinda intriguing for a crazy person like me, lol).  French crepes?  Delicious!  As if they could be anything else. . .

After sitting a bench briefly to eat, we headed off to the Louvre--that's right, the LOUVRE!--where we stood in line for about a half hour in front of the pyramid, watching the sun set from the courtyard.  Once again, thanks to visas/permissos, we got in FREEEEEEE.  (You gotta love that about Paris, haha.)

You can't really describe the Louvre, though I will try to touch upon a few observations I made while there. . .  Firstly, we started off with the Italian wing, searching (of course) for the overly-popular Mona Lisa.  And while the painting was as enigmatic as expected, I just don't. . . quite. . . get it.  It was a small painting, honestly overwhelmed by all of the innumerable art surrounding it.  It seems just one more painting in the bunch--albeit, a widely recognized one.  Not that it isn't a great work or anything, it just wasn't as magnificent as you are always led to expect.

Outside of the room with the Mona Lisa, I spent quite a bit of time examining some paintings by Michelangelo, from very tiny in size to pretty average.  Gotta say, I liked those better than the Mona Lisa, sooooooo, yeah.  Of course, with only about 2 more hours until the Louvre closed, I headed off on my own to wander the halls, passing through the Italian paintings, the Greek and Roman sections (with the Victory of Samothrace!!!), and lots and lots of other art.  I spent quite a bit of time in the Egyptian section, then headed off to the area where they displayed furnishings typical to the palace back when it was a palace--and even the grandeur of those apartments could not prepare me for my trip to Versailles the following morning!  I then progressed downstairs to the Cour Marly and Cour Puget, courtyards filled with gorgeous statues laid out in an open space to great effect.  I passed through the sections of French sculpture to the beginning of the Mesopotamian era artifacts, stumbling upon the code of Hammurabi shortly before I had to head up to the info desk to meet my friends--a work that I stood in front of for 5-10 minutes as I pondered the vast influence this simple stone, covered with small, inscribed figures, had on the history of kingdoms, cities, and their governance.

As the Louvre closed, I reunited with my friends to head off on a walk down the Seine towards the Eiffel Tower, looking up for the searchlights and top of the tower to navigate as we passed by the Musee d'Orsay and other impressive buildings we knew not at the time.  Approaching the Eiffel Tower from the back, we came from a smaller alley into an open space to find the tower right above us, shining in the night.  While I am not a huge fan of the tower from a distance, when seeing the trusses and detailed structure of the metal, you cannot help but appreciate the sheer massive skill and the skill that went into the creation of this monument, temporary though it may have been originally.  Due to the time, we were unable to take the stairs or go all the way to the top, but we were able to ascend to the second floor, observing Paris from above.  The views were gorgeous, the tower awesome (in the truest sense of the word), and the sparkling lights (though seizure inducing) were stunning when they began on the hour.

Thus, after descending by inclined elevator, we headed back to our hostel, not getting into our rooms til around 2 am after walking somewhere between 16 and 20 miles for the day, in addition to traveling from Pisa to Paris.  Definitely a busy and exhausting day.

Nonetheless, knowing we had less than a day and a half left in Paris, of course I was up at 6 am so that we could head out by 7 am to take the RER out to Versailles.   [And may I just say how simultaneously convenient and frustrating the Paris metro is?  It is so well organized and easy to navigate, and yet minutes after buying my tickets I had to ask a guy at the info desk to validate my ticket because the machines would not read it (a process I had to repeat at least twice more), and we went to one station where we almost couldn't board because the ticket machine was out of order--quite frustrating, though it did not end up being a problem, luckily.]

. . . [More to come tomorrow--it is now bedtime.  One day down, one and a half to go!!  Haha.]. . .

Getting to Versailles wasn't too bad, though we had to walk to a tram, take the tram to an RER station, take the RER to a later stop, get off and switch trains, and then walk to Versailles at the final stop--where we got to wait about half an hour before we could get in, which just meant lots and lots of pictures of the sparkly golden gates, haha.  Then, thanks to our lovely permissos/Visas, we were able to get in free of charge and explore the luxurious halls and chambers of one of the most famous palaces in history.

Not saying that I didn't enjoy Versailles, but I have often realized on this trip how much I would despise having to live in such baroque apartments--it just seems so stiff, uncomfortable, so un-home-like.  So while I definitely enjoyed touring the palace (especially the Hall of Mirrors!  It was soooooo gorgeous!!!  :) ), I also realized that I do not understand how people could rationalize spending the equivalents of 10s of billions of dollars on a single building, haha.

The gardens at Versailles were also neat, as were the Grand and Petite Trianon, though I have no doubt that I would have enjoyed the gardens more if all of the trees and flowers were alive, all of the fountains were on, and all of the statues uncovered--one of the downsides of going during the slower off-season.  Nonetheless, the topiary was cute, the gardens and enclosed structures (such as colonnades, outdoor ballrooms, columns, obelisks, etc.) intriguing, and the canal with its swans and rowboats was beautiful and serene.  Eating one of our cheapest meals inside Versailles, sitting outside by the water chowing down on French onion soup and French French fries with no service charge and free water was also an unexpected treat, haha.

From Versailles we took the RER and then the metro back into Paris to head into the Musee d'Orsay--possibly my favorite part of all of Paris!  I'm a big fan of impressionist art, and the statues and carvings and paintings and sketches here were just. . . phenomenal!  Spending hours staring at Carriere, Van Gogh, Monet, Manet, Degas, Rodin, Pisarro, Matisse, and so much more. . . God, it was a fantastic afternoon and evening, even if my feet were killing me afterwards.  But to be able to stand inches away from a Van Gogh, watching a little Parisian girl sketch the painting in her notebook like this was an everyday occurrence, to stand behind a giant clock and look out over the Seine and the Louvre, to circle around Degas's ballerina with her satin ribbon and tulle skirt--it was unreal.  To sit on a bench engineered to look like nothing more than water and stare for over 15 minutes at a painting of Monet's lilies, observing not only the painting but those looking at it, I realized, once again, exactly how lucky I am this semester.

After the Orsay, we headed out to grab a take-away dinner, for me a shrimp salad sandwich, a chocolate tart, and a Coke.  We walked down a few streets to sit at a bench overlooking a few grand buildings and the Eiffel Tower to finish eating and watch the sunset, just relaxing and reveling in the experience that is Paris.  From there, we walked back to the Eiffel Tower, meeting up with the fourth person in our group who had split off to find the catacombs (and who unfortunately hadn't been feeling well the entire trip).  Rather than go back up the Eiffel Tower (due to cost and long lines) we walked over the bridge and out to the Arc d'Triumph.  (Also, beware the profusion of cops and soldiers near the Eiffel Tower; we even got to see them stop an improptu rap concert.  :/ )  After finding the underground passage to the Arc (thank goodness; crossing that street would have been a death sentence!), we went down and got our--once again thank you visas!--free tickets to visit the arc and climb to the top.  The view from the top was stunning, and we got to overlook the Champs d'Elysses and the Eiffel Tower, once again timing it perfectly so that we got to see the tower sparkle against the dark of night.

Thus ended our second day in Paris, with the only event remaining the long walk and metro ride back to the hostel.  We turned in semi-early (got to bed by midnight, woo!  haha), and got to sleep in til almost 7 before having to get up, check out of the hostel, and head off by metro to the underground entrance to the Louvre.  We managed to get there before the long line, standing in front of the Louvre entrance staring at the inverted pyramid as the minutes before opening ticked by.  After entering the Louvre for free for the second time, we headed off in separate directions, seeing what we could in the two hours we had remaining before we were forced to head off (or at least Daniel and I) to catch the metro to meet up with our bus shuttle to the airport.

Of course we left just enough time to stop in a fancy little underground shopping center and grab lunch--a delicious crunchy wrap with who knows what deliciousness in it.  I got to make the server laugh with my terrible French pronunciations (at least I tried, haha), and then we sat and enjoyed our last meal in Paris before catching our bus and flying back into Pisa before running to the train back to Arezzo.  A busy weekend, but a glorious one!

Now, I just have to survive a couple more midterms and a few more days of classes before I am able to leave on my adventure of 3 countries in 10 days--more specifically, my spring break trip to London, Dublin, and Berlin!!!  AAAAAAAHHHHHH!  I'm so excited, haha.

Ciao!




Image Information.  All of these are personal photos, taken from March 6 to March 8, 2015.  They are, respectively:  piers of the Eiffel Tower at night;

Week 8: Keyboard Tech Tip

Since I'm in Italy and may occasionally have to type some Italian words and phrases, sometimes accents will be a necessary evil; therefore, any site that makes it easy to add them into my text quickly is my friend. . .

Finalmente, una tastiera distinta per italiano!  Che figata!  Questo è molto utile, o almeno sarà.

Basta!  Arrivederci!

[For any of you that don't speak Italian, the translation (if I wrote this correctly, lol) is this: Finally, a distinct keyboard for Italian!  How cool!  This is very useful, or at least it will be.  That's it!  Goodbye!]

Week 8: Commenting Review Week--What Can I Say?. . .

I definitely feel like I have reached a sort of camaraderie with other students in this class because of commenting and reading their posts--I interact with some people more than others, it seems, but that's life, lol.  Being able to read introductions, random posts, reading diaries, and stories gives you a view into another person's interests and personalities, thought process, and creativity that you don't always get in lecture and discussion classes.  Comments are extremely helpful in learning how to refine and edit stories so as to get the most out of your writing, and being able to get so many different perspectives on stories exponentially increases the constructive nature of editing and rewriting.

The most useful comments are those that point out both the strengths and weaknesses of my writing/story.  While I always love getting compliments (who doesn't?  Lol.), the constructive criticism over what areas could use improvement are definitely the most helpful.  (This is true for both story and project comments.)  Personally, I tend to make most of my short comments into longer comments, but I try to point out at least one strength and one weakness in each comment that I make.  Sometimes the strengths and weaknesses pertain to the design/layout of the story or project, but more often they pertain to the content (e.g. grammar, style, plot, character development, etc.).

This is pretty much the only class in which I comment so often on other students' work, but I love the interaction that this class provides.  Being able to read others' work and write and receive criticism opens your eyes to the creative possibilities that are out there, and in noting weaknesses in others' work you can often notice the same or similar issues in your own work.

Therefore, change nothing, for the commenting component of this class is uber-helpful and interactive!

Arrivederci!!!

Image Information.  Editing a paper, photo by Nic McPhee, 2008.  Flickr.

Compulsive Editing Support Group, comic by Debbie Ohi, 2010.  Writer Unboxed.

Week 8: Writing Review Week--Let Me Read You My Stories. . .

Where to begin. . . I don't really know what to think of my stories so far this semester, haha.  At the beginning of the semester I was composing a lot of stories in my normal style, just picking a character from the story and telling the story from their first-person perspective, sometimes twisting the tale slightly to give a slightly different view of the character.  A few weeks in I took on the task of writing a tale from the perspective of a parrot, which was definitely a bit of a challenge, though I was quite happy with the results.

These past couple of weeks, however, my stories have been. . . different, haha.  I have been doing a third person storytelling style that has a set cast of characters playing the parts available to them in the original story.  This results in quite a bit of technical changes, and gives very random results--as does the fact that I throw in miscellaneous references and inside jokes to appeal to some of my friends here at OUA who found my blog and decided to read my stories.  Caving to peer pressure. . . ah, me, haha.

My next challenge is to write a story with a decent amount of dialogue included to help in furthering the action--both a personal challenge, and a challenge issued through the advice of various peers.  In this and other matters, the feedback from students has been quite helpful and enlightening, and I cannot wait to try out some new styles and techniques as the semester progresses!

Arrivederci!!!


Image Information. Photo of girl reflected.  Found on Ria-perspective.blogspot.it.

Week 8: Reading Review Week--A Lengthy Assessment

So far this semester, in reverse order, I have read Tibetan Folktales, West African Folktales, Voyages of Sindbad, Georgian Folktales, Arabian Nights, Ovid's Metamorphoses I, and Ovid's Metamorphoses III for my various reading units.  My favorite units so far have been Ovid's Metamorphoses (both), Voyages of Sindbad, and the West African Folktales--an odd mixture, but a fun one.  I can't say that there has been any unit that I haven't enjoyed thus far, though the Georgian Folktales could get kind of confusing and nonsensical at times.

My reading/note-taking is very stream-of-consciousness, writing down notes as I read.  The result is a very odd and random series of thoughts, but it definitely helps me to remember what I've read and what I thought about the story and characters at the time.  The one major problem with this is the length of the posts (they can get insanely lengthy), but it would seem that I'm just a long-winded blogger in general, haha.

For my Storybook project, I am definitely doing a lot of outside reading and research.  Since my Storybook is just based off of supernatural creatures and not necessarily folktales or stories, I have been reading a lot of sites on the descriptions and origins and behaviors of creatures, the cultural setting in which they are set, and any other fun facts I find.  There are definitely a lot of sources out there on the internet for some of the more common creatures, though some of the more obscure creatures are somewhat difficult to find info on (especially since I'm basically limited to the internet being off campus and in Italy, lol).

Usually I do a lot of reading outside of class for pleasure, though this semester that has been toned down a lot by the extensive travel opportunities and the multitude of events/socialization available here at OUA.  I'm not saying that I don't do any pleasure reading, by any means--I doubt that I could survive that--but it's been lessened to roughly a book a week, lol.  I'm such a bibliobibuli!

I have no suggestions for improving the reading component of this class, because it is already so varied and intriguing and just plain awesome, haha.  As for future students, I would just advise that you keep ahead (something I am failing miserably at this semester) and that you read a random story from a unit before deciding on the full unit, just so that you know what you are getting yourself into.

Buona giornata!!!


Image Information.  Antique Books 2, photo by DamselStock.  DeviantArt.