Leaving Italia.

So here I am, Milan Airport, waiting for the flight that will return me to Belgium. I'm leaving one day early, fleeing ahead of the transport strike planned for tomorrow ... avoiding the big snow due on Sunday.  It doesn't seem foolish.

Simon informed me, via Facebook and in response to my post about how bad the food was here in the airport, that he has never ever had good food here and that one should really bring their own.  Too late.  I shall arrive back in the Flatlands absolutely ravenous. 

I'm making use of the last of my usb modem allowance.  They are fabulous things, for those who enjoy an online life and don't have one of those wonder phones ... well actually, I can't imagine using the internet via a phone.  I believe this makes me something of a dinosaur.  There are other habits that make it more than certain, actually.

It will be good to reunite with the photographs taken on this journey.  I'm curious to see what I captured.  I felt like there was some good stuff but we'll see.

Beautiful blue skies here again today.  It's been mostly stunning here, weatherwise, over the 6 days I spent in Italia.  Gert has promised me rain on my return ...

Ciao from Italia I guess.

 

 

Genovese Days ...

It's been up and down and all over the place ... but then again, that's the reality of my wandering life.

I love wandering.  It's been a passion since forever.  I must confess though, it's not all easy and fun.  And just like the good days, the bad days are kind of extreme. 

Saturday was sublime.  Sunday was spent out at Arenzano with the lovely Francesca, her children and Ashley, a New Zealander.  The sea had real waves, just like New Zealand, and the company was grand.  I'm hoping I convinced Ashley to come stay with us in Belgium at some point in the near future.

It was a delicious day that ended well.  Monday, I woke from nightmares and my mouth was sore.  I decided to walk them off.  I called in to buy salt from Francesca at Le Gramole, as I passed by on my regular walking route, and she was like this lovely ray of sunshine in my day.  Much-needed, although she gifted me the salt which was very kind ... on top of the whole making me smile thing. 

The first walk done, I returned and realised my usb modem, purchased 3 months ago, was about to run out of hours. Life without the internet ... incomprehensible.

I raced out again, all the way down the hill towards the harbour, weaving through the caruggi like an expert ... so proud until I realised I was in the wrong place.  Eventually I arrived at the right TIM shop and voila, they were closed on Monday mornings.

Back to the house, a quick shower due to the humidity here and the fact it's warmer than I'm used to at this time of year here in Europe.  I was meeting Francesca G for lunch and we wandered some more.  It's always lovely to spend time with Francesca.  She is my translator in this world but more than that, I consider her the loveliest friend.

Enroute in search of metal detectors for sons and lupini, we called by at TIM and I picked up a short term recharge on my usb modem for 9 euro.  I love TIM and their service.

Well, I arrived home about 6.30pm and realised my usb modem just wouldn't work in any way that was satisfactory.  I looked at the clock, wondered how late they were open and set off, at a brisk pace.  They were open and I can't say enough good things about the TIM assistant who worked for an hour, getting my usb modem up and running.

Dinner was cereal and yogurt because I'm terrible here.  And I worked late into the night.

Today ... the weather.  You probably cannot imagine how glorious a day can be here in Genova, Italy in the middle of winter.  I think it was about 17 celsius at one point, deep blue skies and sunshine forever. 

I could prove this, had I packed the card reader I need to transfer my photographs to my computer ... even if I had packed a spare usb cable but no.  All images remain safely here on my camera. 

You see, I don't have my everyday laptop with me.  I decided that the life of a sherpa was not for me, and I packed light.  I am regretting it but my body appreciated it on the long haul here.  The everyday laptop has everything I need on it.  This little travel laptop has very little ...

I spent a lovely few hours catching up with Karla, a friend and artist who lives here in the city.

Dinner tonight is pizza from the exquisite Pizzeria Ravecca.  The same as the one pictured in this post.  I'm kind of stuck on this one.

Things are going well ... well, except for the train strike scheduled for Friday.  That would be the day that I need to get from Genova to Milano for my 7pm flight.  It's 2 hours on the train from Genova, then another 50 minutes on a second train to the airport.  We shall see how that goes.

So ... a short round-up of news here in Genova.  I have some truly delicious news in the days ahead but let me get it all set up before I write of it here.

Ciao from Genova!

A Winter Sunday in Genova

I woke before 7am, to the quiet that is this small street on a Sunday.  The shops and cafes take a day of rest and almost no one was stirring ... or so few that I could sleep again, in the time that passed between suitcase wheels running over the huge stones of the street.

I woke to grey clouds but it's not cold.  This I discovered on venturing out in search of my Sunday focaccia.

The sound of the fountain in Piazza de Ferrari filled the air, owning the entire piazza in a way I had never noticed before.  It was a powerful presence, in the Sunday-morning-quiet of the old city.

Walking, I discovered that the artists of via San Lorenzo were already out and unpacking their paintings.  Amedeo came over to greet me, and I walked back up to his car with him, to help with his work.  He bought me an espresso.  We exchanged slightly ashamed confessions regarding our failure to learn each others' language since our last meeting.

(I need an Italian teacher based in Antwerpen ... does anyone know of someone?)

I stayed a while before continuing on my search for focaccia, came back to share but he had already eaten and so I strolled home, via Piazza de Ferrari again, unable to resist visiting the fountain.

And as I strolled, I realised that even this early on a Sunday morning, there are good people out on the streets, people to talk with, and that there is so much beauty that it fills me with a peaceful joy that I don't take forgranted.

Buongiorno, from La Superba ... otherwise known as Genova.

 

Genova!

I am back in Genova and it is so unbelievably good to be here again.

I was drowning in the winter grey of Belgium, missing my great big Genovese walks round the city, missing the exquisite espresso that Simona and Marta make, the focaccia from Panificio Patrone in via Ravecca, and missing the pleasure of finding just the right food, in amongst all that is delicious at Francesca and Norma's shop.

11am, and I have walked around the old city, bought my pale pink flowers, eaten focaccia, had espresso. I have talked with people.  This place feels like the closest to home I have ever been while wandering outside of New Zealand these last 9 years.

The sky is a deep deep blue, the air is mild - unlike the freezing cold in Milano as I arrived yesterday.  People are out on the streets and, as always, they are talking to each other and greeting strangers.  Did I tell you how much I love this city?

I felt so very strong, walking the hills in a way that delights me, as it's my first time on hills since I was here last, back in November.

I'm here to put together a range of accommodation options for the photography workshop in April.  I have my favourite hotel but I need to cover all budgets.  I think it will be easy but I want to be sure of what I am recommending.  And I need just a few more specific photographs for the book.

No photos today though ... my hands were full of focaccia and flowers.  And my soul was singing too loudly to concentrate on pulling my camera out of my bag to use it. 

And yes, I am a wee bit much this morning but oh, it is good to here.

a few days and good friends ...

I have some truly remarkable friends and I've been busy with some of them.

Shannon came visiting from Holland, arriving on Friday night, she stepped straight into a wee adventure, racing off to view the latest Jane Eyre movie with Ruth and I.

I had forgotten how much fun the movies could be ... and it was a most excellent movie.

Shannon and I wandered through Saturday ... starting late, we headed into the city and spent most of the day chatting in the lazy lovely way old friends chat.

She left on Sunday but not before we picked up Peter, the lovely tenor bloke I know, from the Airport bus.  We strolled across the big square outside Central Station, here in Antwerpen, and popped into the Zoo Cafe for a small wine-quaffing session.

Shannon left, and Peter came home to stay with Gert and I.  He's here for a few days before he jets back to his base in Berlin and so our days are full of conversation and photographs.  Jessie and I are updating his professional information photographically and he is being generally entertaining.

In other news, my daughter photographed me today.  I needed a publicity shot too.  It's quite the bizarre thing to be on the other side of the camera but voila ... hello from me here in the flatlands.

everything ...

I'm putting together a book about my times in Genova ... but I'm launching/writing/creating a marketing campaign too.

And I am learning that I can't put together this book until the marketing is done, till the Newsletter is written, until the adverts and everything else is done because it all comes out of my head and they don't play well together.

I fly soon.  Back to Genova.  Perhaps there, and then, marketing tidied up and put out in the world, perhaps then I will simply sit down and put all the pieces of 'book' I have here on my desk.

Art and Fear

"Artists come together with the clear knowledge that when all is said and done, they will return to their studio and practice art alone. Period. That simple truth may be the deepest bond we share. The message across time from the painted bison and the carved ivory seal speaks not of the differences between the makers of that art and ourselves, but of the similarities. Today these similarities lay hidden beneath urban complexity -- audience, critics, economics, trivia -- in a self-conscious world. Only in those moments when we are truly working on our own work do we recover the fundamental connection we share with all makers of art. The rest may be necessary, but it's not art. Your job is to draw a line from your art to your life that is straight and clear."

- David Bayles & Ted Orland (Art and Fear)

found over on The Drawing Board.

The Queen of England gave me camera shake ...

This photograph still makes me giggle ...

I have photographed actors on assignment for Canwest, and prime ministers, more than once, governor generals x two and high-ranking soldiers. 

I have photographed musicians and world famous artists and authors but no-one made me shake until the Queen of England looked directly down my camera lens. 

But no one ...

It could have been so good.  I was so close, with an unrestricted view but, for me, this New Zealander who had grown up immersed in stories of this fabulous English queen, it was like seeing a unicorn and realising it was a true story.

Camera Shake ... best avoided.

 

 

David duChemin, Photographer

Remaining creative and finding joy in that work isn't a sprint to the finish.  It's a long run and if you don't pace yourself, whether you do this vocationally or not, you run out of steam.  The creative process has a rhythm and requires not just time but energy, and to keep that energy you need to watch how fast you burn it.  Whether you're a so-called working pro or not, your creative energy and drive are your greatest assets; do what you need to protect them.

David duChemin, extracted from Vision is Better 2.

I love this man's work and words ... his photographs too.

Joy

Sometimes, when you don't see a family for a few years, they have another beautiful baby and, if you're really lucky, you are invited to return and attempt to capture something of them all over again. 

The 'new' old desk

It arrived, the new old desk. 

It was so unbelievably heavy that I didn't believe it could be carried up the stairs  ... but turns out it could, after it was cut into two pieces.  Carried by Gert and by Oliver.

And then it was too high, so we took off the little round feet. 

Then it was too low, and I didn't say anything for a little bit.  I just kind of avoided it.

Gert found some pieces of wood yesterday, at just the right height, and voila, here it is ... my new old desk in its place here in the sun.

 

Howard Thurman

Don’t ask yourself what the world needs, ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who are alive.


Murmuration ...

Loved this!

Murmuration from Sophie Windsor Clive on Vimeo.

Video of a massive starling flock turning and twisting over a river in Ireland has gone viral, and with good reason. Flocking starlings are one of nature’s most extraordinary sights: Just a few hundred birds moving as one is enough to convey a sense of suspended reality, and the flock filmed above the River Shannon contained thousands.

What makes possible the uncanny coordination of these murmurations, as starling flocks are so beautifully known? Until recently, it was hard to say. Scientists had to wait for the tools of high-powered video analysis and computational modeling. And when these were finally applied to starlings, they revealed patterns known less from biology than cutting-edge physics.

Feel free to continue reading here  :-)