I form habits and "routes" all too quickly.
I've been trying to take new roads to the various places I frequent. It has been a fun change of pace, and it always boosts my confidence when I find myself in a section of a city that I've never been to, and though disoriented, I find my way back. It makes me feel like, Yes, I really do live here. And by the way, Here is Italy.
I forget much of the time where exactly I am.
|Ada at Parco del Montagnola|
I've been taking more photographs. I'm not sure what it is that always makes me feel so self conscious taking out my camera (unless I'm taking photos of Ada. Then I just feel like a mom). But I was telling Mike last night that I want to make a whole bunch of little paintings (maybe 5"x7" or so?) of simple scenes in Bologna—a portico, a window, a door, a bit of architecture—so I need to get snapping!
Nothing too elaborate. Bite sized paintings.
It only makes sense since my painting time is bite sized. I think I might buy some canvas. Painting on paper is getting old.
The art shop near my house is this charming family run place (oh wait, that probably explains nearly every shop in Bologna). No one in there speaks a lick of English. I went in the other day and asked for gomma cemento. Blank stare. I said the word for glue, and picked up a paintbrush and started applying the imaginary glue to my hand. Ahhh! They got it. Only rubber cement here comes in a tube. Weird.
Every time I go in there is a lot of pointing, pronouncing words like "oil" in a pseudo-Italian accent, roll playing and blank stares. But every time I manage to get what I'm looking for and only make myself look like a fool some of the time. I'm just glad Ada's with me. She imbues people with patience for her linguistically-challenged mother.
Advent Calender Day 16: Watch It's a Wonderful Life. And snuggle. And drink hot chocolate.
Christmas Song: Winter Storm by Joshua James