Palm Sunday in Rome — we ought to go to Mass, right? How to find a Catholic Church? Just kidding. Every block has one, maybe two, although it isn’t always easy to tell. “It’s either a church or a luggage store,” K quips to my pointing. We enter a building. No empty seats. Mass already in progress. For a pedestrian church, it is spectacular: walls and ceilings lavishly painted, gilt-raised frames, and a beautifully tiled floor. The Saints approve. But we exit anyhow, the blessed water on the brow not yet dry. Turns out I’m a 90-second Catholic, which is to say, a former Catholic, or a recovering Catholic, or not a Catholic at all. Take your pick.
So off we go, heading over to the wide, people-filled Piazza del Popola. There are singers, tourists, lots of us, and protestors. I shoot hostile looks at the silent Anonymous clump, surely protesting the recent arrest of Assange, that rat-faced fucker. Surely, they’d frame his wrong doing in a First Amendment paradigm, overlooking his gigantically successful attempt to bring down the West and BTW how do they square the fact that Wikileaks’ sweeping and supposedly neutral disclosures never harm Putin?
I don’t suppose you can tell what I think of Assange?
If you combine the fact that Assange’s underlying charge is rape with his notorious hatred of Hillary Clinton, you could alternately view his take down of the Western World as a petty, little-dicked man’s misogyny.
On twitter, pundits I admire say: watch who supports Assange. Who is calling him a “journalist?” Check out @gregolear on Twitter for more.
“Tulsi Gabbard is the Jill Stein of Hawaii,” said one of my favorite tweets (sorry can’t find to attribute).
But hey! There’s espresso and rosemary-sprinkled focaccia in the offing, so these depressing thoughts are shunted aside. We crossed the Tiber in search of a cafe with outdoor seating. Lovely!
I had TWO espressos, hoping it’ll help tide me through a three hour tour at the Villa Borghesi (my attention at museums tends to wane at the one hour mark, I’m afraid).
This, believe it or not, is a cafe. Not sure I’d want to eat with this crew watching me.
I’ve been shooting tons of pictures of the walls here in Rome — each distressed surface more glorious than the last. I’ll bore you with those another time. But for now, here’s a shot of sculptural daisy that inspired hopes of a wishing wall. I might even have been framing my own wish when I pulled out a dusty drug store receipt. Ick!
However, yesterday, at the Santa Ignazio di Loyola, where we oohed and aahed over a well-known tromp l’oeil dome painting (apparently executed when the builders ran out of funds), I did light a candle for my sister.
I’ll close with a few pictures of the interior of the Pantheon. It was all about the light.
Thanks so much for letting me stowaway! The pictures are incredible. That first shot of the Pantheon had me doing a mental inventory of the cloth on hand. Then the stupendous challenge of the technical skills necessay to translate that to cloth knocked me to my senses.
But you might be up to the challenge, don’t forget.
Ahhh how I wish I were there too! Enjoy!
And tomorrow (I checked) there will be sun too.
Rainy days and museums are a good combo, interspersed with cappuccinos, pizza, and cookies = perfection.
Those last few shots are beauties. The spot light IS on the god(s) these days. Hmmmm so much for that eh? The Holy Spirit is the only one I’m game for. Give him my regards.
Lightening now. We don’t care. Ducked into a cafe for Acqua Panna, salad, and a Brie, radicchio and cured meat sandwich. Yum! The tour up the hill was amazing. I had no idea that Caravaggio was such a shit heel.
Me, geometry and precision? I’ll admire all that from afar.
Inhale, exhale…church in the moment, statues, light, plazas, cafe and there is espresso, and there is foccacia and there will be wine, olive oil, pasta and the simple joy of being in Rome…at times there is that nagging feeling of the need to go to museums to see the travel book sites, especially if you are in a place for the first time. I don’t know if this is your first time in Rome. For me, the best times are found tripping down a side street, looking in at a little shop, discovering a wonderful bit of cheese, a slice of prosciutto or salami, a handful of olives in a Mom and Pop store. Dee you have an exquisite eye for these and a writer’s intuitive sense of detail as life unfolds, so go and enjoy and we will sit back and wait for more…
Saw lightening over the city from the top of the Borghesi hill. Amazing! Yes it’s my first visit and I hope not my last.
vicarious joy from the catbird seat that is your blog
Wonderful photos Dee! Glad to see your trip’s been full of excitement (and espresso to help you power through your travels). “Tulsi Gabbard is the Jill Stein of Hawaii” is quite brilliant 🙂
That tweet was great. Hope I find the author again.
Yay! You’re bringing us with you! I’m so psyched.
Just Wow! Your photos are amazing Dee! The light, angles, space and negative space you captured is stunning. “rosemary-sprinkled focaccia” sounds absolutely de-lish! Enjoy your time and I am so glad you lit a candle for your sister, there are always some good memories too. xo
A Roman Holiday, where’s the Vespa?
Just enjoy!
We are!
Fantastic to see and hear about your experiences from your pen and camera. Wow, the Pantheon. The temple to all Roman gods? An incredible human accomplishment of beauty, engineering and light. Thank you for sharing all this – including the dick-less 😉
Today I learned that the painter Raphael is buried in the Pantheon (among others).
Oh you are posting from Italy and I’ll be going off the web tomorrow for a week (drat) I’ll never catch up. Sending love.
Enjoy your country time away from NYC!!