It's 6:30 and my alarm is going off. Usually this sound at this time is nails on a chalkboard for me, but for some reason my internal clock is different in Florence. The early hours of the morning are not torture to me. No snoozing or setting 3 alarms at 15 minute intervals. At the first buzz I am wide awake and raring to go.
After an hour I head down stairs to the streets of Florence. My apartment is on the other side of the river so I have a good 30 minute walk to school, a walk I now think back to and treasure. One of the million fresh fruit and vegetable stands lay one block from my apartment. Every morning I would purchase a piece of fruit there for my walk. Usually an apple.
Every day I crossed the Ponte Vecchio and admired the beautiful jewelry of the vendors. I walked along the cobble stone roads and felt transported back in time. Is it possible for a place to feel ancient and new and alive at the same time? If it is that is how Florence was for me. It felt like an old movie be played in the present.
I passed by street painters starting their chalk art for the day and street vendors laying out their products. I always stopped into this one cafe for my morning espresso. 1 euro per cup. And occasionally had a pastry if I felt like treating my self. Italian espresso is like heaven in a cup. The hot smooth drink just bursts with flavor in your mouth and warms your insides as it goes down. Italy was the starting point for my coffee addiction, something I still suffer from.
Then to class. I took Italian art history, one of the best classes I have ever taken. My teacher was this small, quarky German lady whose passion for art was extremely contagious. I could listen to her talk about a work of art for hours... and often did.
Today we learned about The David. The most famous sculpture of all time, and rightly so. Michelangelo's David is epic in every sense of the word. It began when a huge piece of marble that was meant for the construction of a church had a huge crack down the side, therefore rendering it useless. It was too big to move so they left it in the middle of the main piazza. Soon there after arose an unofficial competition among the local artists to see if anyone could actually create something out of this, excuse my language, piece of shit chunk of marble.
In walks Michelangelo and all his amazingness and he goes and carves the David out of it. The first publicly nude statue of the Renaissance and the first depiction of David before the fight. He was also carved during a period of time when Florence was being run by the powerful Medici family. They were never officially in power, but they ran the place and the republic had had enough. They adopted the David as their mascot, as their inspiration, as the symbol of their revolution... that in fact the powerless and seeming weak republic can overthrow the might of the Medici family just as David had defeated Goliath. The statue was an icon for decades.
After our history lesson, we took a trip to the Academia, where he is today. As I walked through the doors and gave my ticket to the attendant, I turned my eyes and saw him. I think I stopped breathing for a bit. Stood frozen to take everything in. There he was, at the end of this massive hall before me, smooth granite floors and the side walls lined with Michelangelo's unfinished slave sculptures almost acting as David's guards.
As I walked down the hall I could sense that the ceiling was maybe 30 feet high or more, probably decorated with paintings but I never knew. I only had eyes for him. He grew with every step I took till he stood towering over me. He must have been 40 feet tall. More massive then I had ever imagined. Backdropped by this dome with lights shinning down on him from all angles which only made him seem even more majestic. Everyone has seen pictures of him, but today I learned how sometimes a picture is not worth a thousand words. Words nor pictures could accurately portray the feeling of awe and humbleness that you get when in his presence.
The David is perfect. Every muscle, every detail. The rock in his hand and the concentration and thought behind his face, contemplating the task that lie before him. The smooth, white marble showing his strength and fragility at the same time. This statue is what art is all about. Never in my life have I been more taken aback by a piece of art. It is a sin of the deepest depths to make the journey to Florence and not visit him.
After class I took a walk through the town and found a nice little restaurant to eat at while admiring the Duomo. A perfect place to people watch and enjoy the gem of Florence. The world's largest free standing Dome. Again... awe.
I order a simple pizza, tomato, mozzarella and oregano. No matter how many meals I had in Italy I was always surprised by how much taste came from simple ingredients. Is there something in the soil or the water here that brings out the taste in the food? Every meal made you just sink into each bite and savor the flavor. I noticed I ate slower there as well... probably because I wanted the food to last forever.
Now time for my afternoon gelato. Mouth watering, stomach growling, eyes widening.. just thinking about it. Porque No? was hands down the best gelato in Florence. Today I decided on hazelnut. It just melts in your mouth releasing the yummy goodness that can only be described as Italian gelato. Italian gelato... need I say more.
At night my roommates and I would grab a bottle of wine and head to the Ponte Vecchio where a guy performed every night, delighting us with wonderful Italian music. It set the perfect mood as we enjoyed our Tuscan wine over the river and under the stars.... watching the tourists hustle about and gossiping about the hot Italian men.
What I wouldn't give to go back to that life.
Florence, I miss you and everything you had to offer me. We had an amazing love affair and I only hope we meet again soon and pick up where we left off. Thinking of you always, Your Gina
