My young brain
Young, naive, American... I'm not sure exactly in which way it is best described...
Perhaps simply "mine" will suffice
My brain does something strange when attempting to comprehend the passage of time in this place.
This place being Italy.
When thinking about the things that have come before.
What has changed
And, I think, more importantly... more significantly... what has remained the same.
For example, in a film,
You see a young man in trouble.
He's running through the streets of Rome.
He's running through the streets of Rome of 90 years ago.
And the only props needed to make the scene are clothes from the era.
Same walls, same streets, most of them made in just the same way as they were then.
And you rush through time in "lo stesso posto"... the same place...
Indicated only by graffiti, the sound of traffic...
And 90 years is yesterday. This place marks the passage of time in centuries, not decades.
And much further into the past.
My past begins 200 years ago. Maybe 500 if you count Columbus sailing the blue.
Dinosaurs, Cave men, Columbus then the declaration of independence was signed.
If something was put down in 1200, I'd suppose it was put down in stone.
So you can now imagine, now that history is expanding, ever further illuminated
Like taking a ride into Seuss' snowflake.
World upon world keeps opening itself up to me
And it hurts my brain a bit.
I can sit in the square for hours getting lost in my thoughts, trying to pull myself through the history of the place without skipping too much. It's a fun yet tiring exercise. It makes you feel small... l you can see your exhistence in this place shrinking away into nothingness as the time line unravels for miles behind you. Everything before building building building until it swallows you up into an atom of a molecule in the air of the last fart it just let pass.
And I suppose you could do this anywhere. But for some reason the presence of man made things makes it easier for me.
But fortunately, we don't live for all that long
And we count off the time in weeks
Days if you're a wee one.
And look at all we can experience in this small insignificant space?
Growing ourselves, careers, families... to each his own ways to spend splendid days.
So spend them on something grand,
Something that brings you joy.
You know, those smiles that you can feel in your rib cage.
That's what I'm aiming for
To saddle up and ride it with all I've got.
Yee Haw ;)
How beautifully expressed. And I know just how you feel. Outside my front door are marks made by Neolithic people, and in my sitting room there is an arch that perhaps dates back a thousand years...it makes me feel very, very grounded.ReplyDelete
Thank you Louise. I don't know, sometimes it seems like my words are running over themselves. It's hard to express this awakening that we experience here, isn't it?ReplyDelete
I think we often need to hear words running over themselves. It helps to paint the picture, weave the tapestry or insert your own metaphor here.ReplyDelete
Your particular use of words is refreshing. It reminds me of younger days and long conversations about perception. What if the color I see as orange is the color you see as blue? What if our blood was copper based instead of iron based?
Your prose on the blog remind me of what I now choose to think of as a simpler time. They are a way for me to have conversations with you from half a world away. Although shared by your readers, they are personal to me for those reasons. They are a reflection of the wonderful woman you are and the brilliant mind inside her.
I appreciate them, I guess is what I am trying to say.
Keri, your words are so sweet. I think it must mean that I am reaching into that core of me that for a time seemed to be closed even to myself. I am enjoying the experience of throwing the gates open and letting the flood rush out.ReplyDelete
I think your thoughts are exactly why I have been and still am so fascinated with history. I'm so lucky to have it as my job.ReplyDelete