Florence
The slow paced city enveloped in art, surrounded by mountains and hills, the duomo towering over the tiled roofs, a city of magic and deep seeded art.
Walking the streets of Botticelli, Michelangelo, Brunelleschi, Dante, and Donatello, feeling the power of these great artists one is struck with how much was accomplished in one city. For an artist, and art lover, it is almost too overwhelming to bear. The city holds some of arguably the most important works of art possibly ever, but without a stretch for the Renaissance.
Seeing David in person was something that I could never have predicted would excite me as much as it did. The exhibit was interesting in that the curator had juxtaposed the roman masterpieces with photographs by Robert Mapplethorpe. In some ways it was a distraction, especially around the David, but next to other sculptures there was an interesting play between the ideals of the human body. After taking in David, I went on a search for the Vetruvian Man, a fruitless search. . . I guess I will just have to return to Florence.
(David at the Accademia)
Climbed up to San Miniato al Monte to look out over the city, the mosaic tiles glimmering in the obscured light. Chanting of the monks resonating in me. The light slowly fading on the city, going from red tiled roofs to silhouetted domes and spires. The night getting cool, the leaves soft as we walk back down.
Meeting at Dante for a dinner with friends, every bite a taste explosion of flavors mingling and bouncing off one another. Orange and sage ravioli stuffed with ricotta cheese, and pear and Parmesan stuffed in pasta, combinations to excited the most adventurous foodie. The quaint restaurant made you feel like it was your discovery like you were the first to try these combinations, but the packed joint with a full house proved that man had been there before. Our host, a two year Italian herself knew well enough to take us here.
Since we were here for a conference, the night of the Gala, we all dressed to Florentine standards. Packed on some buses, we get to the gate of the gala where they realize the winding road won't fit the girth of our chariots. We are then put on to smaller vans and shuttled up to a mansion with a path lit by candles. Wine poured freely, feeling rosy, thinking fondly, exploring the grounds and never ending rooms. (The Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore)
Climbed up to San Miniato al Monte to look out over the city, the mosaic tiles glimmering in the obscured light. Chanting of the monks resonating in me. The light slowly fading on the city, going from red tiled roofs to silhouetted domes and spires. The night getting cool, the leaves soft as we walk back down. 
Meeting at Dante for a dinner with friends, every bite a taste explosion of flavors mingling and bouncing off one another. Orange and sage ravioli stuffed with ricotta cheese, and pear and Parmesan stuffed in pasta, combinations to excited the most adventurous foodie. The quaint restaurant made you feel like it was your discovery like you were the first to try these combinations, but the packed joint with a full house proved that man had been there before. Our host, a two year Italian herself knew well enough to take us here.
Since we were here for a conference, the night of the Gala, we all dressed to Florentine standards. Packed on some buses, we get to the gate of the gala where they realize the winding road won't fit the girth of our chariots. We are then put on to smaller vans and shuttled up to a mansion with a path lit by candles. Wine poured freely, feeling rosy, thinking fondly, exploring the grounds and never ending rooms. (The Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore)
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