Rome

beauty in decay

In a word, it’s marvelous. I am 19 days into my fellowship here at the American Academy in Rome, and I am beyond overwhelmed with meetings, socializing, Italian lessons, making sure we have snacks and socks for the kids, the (imagined? invisible? definitely expected) push to make work, to meet people, to see everything. In between all of it is amazing food (what the Sustainable Food Project is doing is beyond words incredible) and walking, and the marveling at all that there is. It’s impossible not to feel small, but also invigorated, and extremely new to this world.

I have carved out small moments dedicated to drawing and planning, and even working with clay. The paradox that I have this beautiful, large, well-lit studio now— that is empty and begging to be used (eventually it will be, when my Italian language lessons are over), but will return to a dark and cramped space in the ground at home that is full of my work, in a very cold Minneapolis is.. a hard reckoning at this time in my life. Actually I hadn’t even thought of that until now, as I try to come to terms with what is happening, here and now. I am thrilled to have this space and place, where I feel like I am starting over (it’s uncomfortable but that’s the point), and drawing on entirely new feelings and ideas. I am doing what I set out to do, which is to experience Rome through it’s art, history and evolution, along with maybe —if I’m lucky— ghostly companions? but always with an open heart and mind.

My friend Lacey described the abundance of relics and ruins of Rome “like litter”, and I could not understand that but I do now. And not only is it a visual stir and zeal at every moment, every second, but then you come to understand there are layers, and an even older Rome underneath (with stairways and marble columns and tiled floors), the newer Rome boasting its newer self with repurposed aqueducts, domes, and bell towers, and then there’s the water and volcanic bedrock that make up some of the architecture and geography of the city and you realize there are more questions than answers. I am reminded of my dear friend Jordi—who does not mince words—saying very clearly and truthfully, “you have time.”

Roman people are so lovely (not sure one would have said that 1000 years ago) and you really gotta give it to them for being some of the last people on the planet to smoke cigarettes unapologetically, with vigor, like there is zero science saying it is bad for you.

Bits