*Meant to post 3 weeks ago
At the moment, I’m speeding along in the bumpy bus to meet Mom and Dad in Milan.
Last night was my last night in Siena, and only then did I really realize how sad I am to leave. I knew I’d miss everyone and the city, but in the past, I’ve usually left places I knew I’d return to. I went to college far away from home knowing several times a year, I’d be back. Every semester I pack up everything, leave Oberlin, and get to return. Last night sitting in Il Campo, really one of the most incredible sites in the world, I was sad for having to leave the routine I’d grown to love in Siena. I also went yesterday with Carla to San Galgano, an incredible roofless abbey about 45 minutes outside the city in the country. If I were to write a guidebook, this place would be a major highlight. In the summer, they light the place up, and hold operas inside. One day when I can return to Siena, that’s an experience I want to have.
This last week during finals and the end of the semester, it finally hit me how peculiar my life here was. A week ago Friday was my last day of school. I started with two hours of watching La Dolce Vita with Italian subtitles, and actually understood everything. Afterwards, with the history of art class, I took a bus to Florence to go to the Uffizi. Leonoardo, Duccio, Giotto, and Rafael later, I super speed walked past the Duomo, the tourists with cameras taking pictures of a 20th century façade (sorry, sounds pompous, but the Siena one is way better : ) to the bus station. The crazy thing was that I really knew Florence. I didn’t need a map, just sped through. I returned to school, took the not-so-portable easle out to the city panorama across the street, and finished up an oil painting. I rushed cleaning the brushes, then ran again to the bus (I actually flagged down the bus yelling some Italian) to go to my french guitar players’ house. To get to his home, I had to climb the small mountain and pass a little farm and the powerlines surrounded by rosemary plants…che porfumo. We practiced songs in four languages, then walked to the center (a long ways). I returned to school to work on my bookbinding final until 1AM. When I finally returned home, I realized how different this last day of school was for me than any I’ve had before. Today, parting Siena, I have 3 canvases, 4 books I handmade, and a bit of a heavy heart.
Of course I have more places to see and people to meet, another two months in Europe, but my goodbye Siena day is veramente tough.
At the moment, I’m speeding along in the bumpy bus to meet Mom and Dad in Milan.
Last night was my last night in Siena, and only then did I really realize how sad I am to leave. I knew I’d miss everyone and the city, but in the past, I’ve usually left places I knew I’d return to. I went to college far away from home knowing several times a year, I’d be back. Every semester I pack up everything, leave Oberlin, and get to return. Last night sitting in Il Campo, really one of the most incredible sites in the world, I was sad for having to leave the routine I’d grown to love in Siena. I also went yesterday with Carla to San Galgano, an incredible roofless abbey about 45 minutes outside the city in the country. If I were to write a guidebook, this place would be a major highlight. In the summer, they light the place up, and hold operas inside. One day when I can return to Siena, that’s an experience I want to have.
This last week during finals and the end of the semester, it finally hit me how peculiar my life here was. A week ago Friday was my last day of school. I started with two hours of watching La Dolce Vita with Italian subtitles, and actually understood everything. Afterwards, with the history of art class, I took a bus to Florence to go to the Uffizi. Leonoardo, Duccio, Giotto, and Rafael later, I super speed walked past the Duomo, the tourists with cameras taking pictures of a 20th century façade (sorry, sounds pompous, but the Siena one is way better : ) to the bus station. The crazy thing was that I really knew Florence. I didn’t need a map, just sped through. I returned to school, took the not-so-portable easle out to the city panorama across the street, and finished up an oil painting. I rushed cleaning the brushes, then ran again to the bus (I actually flagged down the bus yelling some Italian) to go to my french guitar players’ house. To get to his home, I had to climb the small mountain and pass a little farm and the powerlines surrounded by rosemary plants…che porfumo. We practiced songs in four languages, then walked to the center (a long ways). I returned to school to work on my bookbinding final until 1AM. When I finally returned home, I realized how different this last day of school was for me than any I’ve had before. Today, parting Siena, I have 3 canvases, 4 books I handmade, and a bit of a heavy heart.
Of course I have more places to see and people to meet, another two months in Europe, but my goodbye Siena day is veramente tough.
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