Katherine Escaping Abroad

Mount Shasta: The 16 Hour Hike

2009-07-23T19:39:00.000-07:00

This past weekend 9 of the SCAs, including myself, decided to climb Mount Shasta. “Shasta” is 14,192 feet in elevation, with snow present on most of the trail. The trail head, where you park your car and start hiking, was about 7,000 feet in elevation, meaning the remaining 7,000 was hiked (or climbed) by foot, step by step. The success rate of ‘summiting’ is allegedly 40%, and multiple people warned us about the intensity of the mountain, mentioning that many hikers train just to climb Shasta. We had decided the Wednesday before that this past weekend would in fact be the weekend to do it, leaving leisurely at 3pm on Saturday to drive to rent crampons. The staff at the rental place openly admitted to us that we were exceptionally unprepared for the hike, as we would be starting a whopping 7 hours after we grabbed out boots, crampons, ice-axes, and some advice from them. Much of the ascent would need technical climbing skills such as a ‘self-arrest’ (how to slam the ice-ax into the ice ground after you slip, fall forward, and start sliding down ice-used in order to stop yourself, especially when headed towards rocks), which we learned from the staff in the store. Needless to say, we were under-prepared, but being motivated, in decent shape, and a bit crazy, all 9 of us were able to summit – seriously exceeding everyone’s expectations including mine.

Following the advice from the rental sports shop, we woke up at midnight (giving us less than 4 hours of sleep) to be on the trail by about 12:30 am, giving us enough time to hike the summit and back to the car in one day. They estimated that we would reach the summit around 9 am if we were in shape, and back to the car by 4 pm. We ended up being on the trail around 1:15 am, walking with head lamps through a very obvious area. The layers on my body include underwear, super intense long johns, heavy wool ski socks, rented boots, under armor long sleeve shirt, Patagonia breathable long sleeve shirt, the liner to my ski jacket, and a winter hat. I personally packed 4 liters of water, a peanut butter and raspberry jam sandwich, 4 Cliff Bars, trail mix, an apple, crampons, an extra pair of socks, an outer layer of snow resistant pants (borrowed), a rain coat, a neck warmer, sun glasses, sun tan lotion, camera, cell phone, hand and toe warmers, and my driver’s license (in case something terrible happened). And I am probably forgetting a substantial amount of stuff.

Throughout the hike, especially after our first stop, the group started to spread out. We had split ourselves into hiking pairs so that no one climbed alone in case of an emergency, etc. Gregg and Matt led the train of partners (despite the fact that they eventually hiked alone); Morgan, Aaron, and Scott created the second group of guys; Julie and Camille at third, while Tina and I brought up the caboose. Tina and I are good friends and had similar strengths and hiking speeds making for good partners. (We also work on the same work crew, sleep in the same room, and sometimes share food – just in case you were wondering how often we see each other. ) Despite the amount of time we see each other, hiking together was a really good decision. We walk at the same pace, keep an eye out for each other, and help one another continue onward!

(This story will be continued……eventually....soon.)

A Day in the Life at Whiskeytown.....

2009-07-23T19:26:00.003-07:00

While living in Whiskeytown, my day structure during the week is often pretty consistent.

6.45 am : Wake up, make lunch, eat breakfast, pack my bag, get dressed.

7.35 am: All eight girls putting their work boots on, then jumping into the car and jamming out to morning music.

8.00-ish am: Arriving at 'Sheep Camp' to split into our two trail crews. I am in the group that needs to drive further up the Shasta Bally Road (four-wheel drive required) to the 'Saddle' to hike 20 minutes into where we are working on hand digging/building trail.

8.30 - Noon: We work in 8-10 ft sections to 'cut' trail, or digging into create a flat area between where two stakes are put to mark the edge of the trail. During this time one can do a range of things including cutting new trail, 'flag' (measuring the gradient to structure the trail so that it consistently increased or decreases in steepness), stump removal, or 'de-hump-ing' already built trail.

Noon - 12.35 pm: Lunch. Often chatting. Much needed.

12.40 pm - 3.45 pm: Continuing trail work.

4.45-ish pm: Arriving at our house. Then often taking a 'tecnu' shower (removes oils from poison oak), running a 'tecnu' wash of clothes. Hang out. Going into town. Napping. Swimming. Sleeping. Reading. Writing. Walking. Etc.

Later that night: Bed. This usually occurs between 10 pm and midnight.

C'est mon vie!

Some Posted Advice.

2009-07-23T19:26:00.001-07:00

“Stay Alive by Keeping Out”

This is the message of one of the most prominent signs we see on our way to work every day. The "glory hole" is a concrete drain that allows the over flow of water from the lake to pass through the dam creating electricity for many residents in Shasta County.

To Whiskeytown and Beyond!

2009-06-22T19:37:00.000-07:00

Yes. I am in Northern Central California, closer to Oregon than San Francisco actually, doing trail construction and maintenance. There are sixteen of us SCA (Student Conservation Association) Interns working for Whiskeytown National Recreation Area outside of Redding. Of the eight guys and eight gals, many people are from the east coast, with only one guy from Southern California. The age range is between 18 and 24 years old, although most of us are between 19 and 22, with everyone going or recently graduated from college. (There are two people who each just finished their first year of graduate school – one medical and one law, who are also dating.) The mix of personality ranges is quite vast, ranging from me, the art student, to the ROTC Marine to the couple from Wisconsin to two guys from upstate NY (Rochester, and north of Utica) who camp frequently, not to mention a guy who just spent a semester in Namibia, also the just recently graduated high school student (who is on her fourth SCA internship) to a guy from Texas who is as equally inexperienced as I am. However, everyone seems to get along, and most people are really social. It seems to be shaping up to be a good group.

On Wednesday, my first day and everyone else’s third day of work, we went out and started learning how to use the tools given to us. These are old school hand tools, like Pickmatics, Polaski’s, Cuttermatics, shovels, rock bars, and hand saws-tools I have mostly steered away from. Nonetheless, that first morning Julie (from Minnesota) and I removed a stump from the middle of the trail with our Polaski’s for most of the afternoon. Once all the roots were dug out, we would cut both directly next to the stump and next to where we dug out, creating more room for us to continue digging to the next layer of roots. The tree stump, named Ted, took us four hours to remove. After all the work it took to remove the stump, it really did feel like a major accomplishment. Afterwards we both joined everyone else with widening the trail constructed last year.

Thursday brought a whole new set of skills for me: flagging trails. The trail markers that one often passes, wooden spikes in the ground with neon taping around the top are laid out for the construction crew to build, and serve as reference points for the future upkeep of the trail. The places for these markers are carefully chosen based on a number of different components: mainly the gradient of the slope –especially compared to the others because it is important to keep that consistent, and the feasibility of creating a trail in that area – is it easier if the trail went around the other side of the ridge based on what needed to be removed. While keeping both of these in mind, one must lay the markers out in about eight foot sections so that the trail crew can quickly split up the work and the hiker can easily follow the path. Scott (a ROTC Marine from North Carolina) and I practiced measuring gradient and flagging trail for the entire day.

Lumber carrying beckoned everyone on Friday: the trail was in desperate need of a path over a steep decline where a stream passed through. Therefore, the 44 planks of treated wood needed to build such a bridge were carried in by us, as well as the air compressor for the nail gun, and miscellaneous equipment. Although the carrying itself took almost the entire day, it was quite fulfilling to walk over the bridge after it was done on our way back down. (We went back to the trail maintenance work we had started the day before). I must admit, everyone’s shoulders were sore for a day or so, but on this Sunday night it has vanished.

This weekend almost everyone drove over to Lassen Volcanic National Park, an hour east of Redding. I personally headed over very early Saturday morning with Aaron, a computer-science major from LA who drives a silver Toyota Camry (my definition of silver Toyota Camry, just to clarify). After eating breakfast with the six who had left the night before, we drove to the trail head at Lassen Peak, elevation about 8,000 feet. We hiked two hours up the mountain (with snow covering part of the trail) to the peak at approximately 10,500 feet of elevation. Then, between warming up/resting near the peak, then walking over together and gawking from highest peak in the park, and eating lunch at the peak an hour was spent. It took one hour to hike back down, and I did not need to stop once. Granted, this was a major surprise based on the countless times I stopped going up. Thankfully Aaron hiked and waited for me despite my slow pace. Also, ironically, I received better cell phone reception at the peak than anywhere else inside the park, so I took the opportunity to call my dad… Later that day we drove over to Cinder Cone, another place in the park. Cinder Cone is literally a mountain of volcanic ash created from a series of 300-year-long eruptions ending in 1851. Inside the crater, from the central blow of the volcano, were millions of pumas stones created at the point of eruption. It was quite spectacular, frankly. Below were views of dunes also created by the same eruption. Additionally, the view of Lassen Peak was interesting, as the mountain looked exceptionally menacing despite the fact that we had climbed the peak earlier that day. Afterwards, we headed back to the camp site (a little over a mile hike in from the parking lot) to arrive just in time to set up tents before a thunderstorm that ran throughout the night. Tina, a gal from Massachusetts, and I shared a two-person tent lent to us by Matt, the guy from Florida who spent his past semester in southwestern Africa. Thankfully his tent stood up to the rain and kept us dry throughout the night. The next morning I packed up, defrosted in the car, hung out while others ate breakfast. Then, Aaron, Ro (a gal who grew up in Maine but now lives in Florida), and I drove back to Whiskeytown to enjoy the remaining portion of the day restfully.

Well, now you are about caught up. Granted, this is an exceptionally long post but thank you for reading along. I will update you on future events and happenings. Ciao!

Venice to White Plains to Whiskeytown: One day...

2009-06-22T19:34:00.000-07:00

First of all, apologies for the lack of updates, it has been a bit crazy. For those of you who were not there, here is the transitional rundown: At 4am on Monday morning Erin (a fellow student) and I took a water taxi to Marco Polo Airport. I left Venice at 7 am in time to touch down at JFK at 3:30 pm the same day. However, we (my mother and I) did not make it home until 5 pm, which is 11 pm Venetian time. At that point I sat down for ten minutes, and then went to buy a sleeping pad and other necessary items for the next day trip. My parents treated me to Chinese take-out, upon my request. At nine, while packing, some friends stopped by to hang out for a quick bit. I finished unpacking, doing laundry (really my mother), and re-packing around 1 am.

The next morning, after having eggs, I drove back to JFK airport at 8:15 am with my father to catch my 11 am flight to San Francisco, then Redding. At four that afternoon I was picked up by Mike, one of the trail crew supervisors. Then we pulled into my new house provided by the park, with the seven other girls who are SCA interns at the park with me. (The eight boys live at a different house down the road.) After having some time to myself to move in, I went into town to grab groceries with two other people. Afterwards we went over to the boys house, played cards and getting to know each other, and hanging out. Around ten thirty that night I finally went to bed. Then, the next morning we started work at headquarters at seven forty five. Yahoo! The transition was intense to say the least, but well worth the opportunity to participate in both experiences.

A few things I needed to get used to:
- It is not actually necessary to say ‘grazie’ instead ‘thank you’ if you are speaking English
- It is quite probable that the people surrounding you speak your native language
- The currency is no longer multi-colored, and $1/$2 are not widely available in coins
- Taxes for purchased items are added on at the counter, not included in prices
- Suburbs do still exist
- People use cars (not vaporettos) to get around town, and really big cars at that.
- I no longer needed to eat out for almost every meal...which means cooking… ugh.
- It is acceptable to wear sneakers that are not Converse

That's all for now folks.....

Apologies for not posting sooner, my internet access is only at a library in Redding, hindering daily blog posts. C'est la vie.

Some Quick Notes

2009-06-08T09:54:00.000-07:00

Quick notes from the past couple of days and tons of art viewing:

I have visited both the Giardini and the Arsenale, the major 'I am important enough to be included in the Biennale on their grounds' areas as well as numerous smaller sites. So far the smaller sites have become gems, where as the official areas with national pavillions does not always measure up. Australia is quite good. Shaun Gladwell's video work featured in the Australian national pavilion feels very Australian because his videos directly deal with the rugged landscape in the western part of the country. However, especially with the videos about the deceased kangeroos, it is simultaneously poetic and pin points issues between humans and our surroundings, as well as him specifically and his surroundings. For more information click here.

Other countries that have been sucessful, in my opinion: Luxemburg (over all really good concept and transports the viewer to the anxious mentality desired by various video installations), Korea (installation using mainly shades was amazing, I am going to visit again to really focus on the work), Cyprus (their concept was really interesting surrounding the rumors surrounding a palm tree importer started by his competitors that cobra eggs were present in the roots when shipped, although the connection between the two could have been more directly presented-a folly of the curator), Republic of Gabon (photographs the artist took asking 'where are we going?' in public spaces using street signs in cities throughout the world, also very well installed in the space given), and Chile (presented in the Arsenale, but really well done).

I have got to run. Ciao!

Ode to Taiwan, Scotland, Latvia, Croatia, and New Zealand

2009-06-06T08:24:00.000-07:00

Alrighty. The Venice Biennale has been on view to the art world for the past couple of days. However, the rest of the world is not admitted until the actual opening on June 7th (because we don't have press passes or direct museums, etc.). Basically. But wait! Some of the pavilions outside of the Giardini and Arsenale are actually open to the public now. These satellite spaces are used by the homeless countries and exhibitions (organized by a curator, not a country). Yes, high school has continued.

In 1893, the Venice Biennale was arranged to commemorate the 25th anniversary of King Alberto and Queen Margherita, with the first showing in 1895 (it was so big it took two years to organize). At that point all the art was in one building, almost all European countries. The years progressed and the amount of art grew, pavilions for specific countries were built within the Arsenale and Giardini (where the bulk of the Biennale occurs), and the exhibition got bigger. Between World War I and World War II, under Facism and Mussolini, the Biennale started to feature Italian artists more than others. In fact many countries were annoyed that the prizes were focused on nationalistic artists. However, after the world wars the people in charge decided to re-assert the original intentions of international participation. Since then it has grown with the amount of countries and the diversity of the countries participating. Yes, the countries that have built national pavilions within the official area are almost all European, and it does show off some seniority.

Today, on my way to class, we (Carrie Tuccio, Katie Vota, and I) visited five satellite exhibitions and one monographic exhibition featuring Mona Hatoum. These were all top notch exhibitions. The space was used well and incorporated within the pieces, and many pieces were in fact responses to the space they were shown in. Martin Boyce, the representative of Scotland, scouted out the space in Venice a while ago, then created the piece spefically for that work. It was an astounding series of abstract sculptures relating the natural landscape of Scotland with the Venetian landscape and architectural surroundings. Latvia was another one of my favorite with Miks Mitrevics with "Fragile Nature" and the connection between humans and nature, and how fleeting they are.

I enjoyed these spaces because of the reality check of them: the buildings are used for something else, and sought out by the countries and exhibitions represented in them, and used well by them. Frankly, these spaces feel like found jewels where the pavilions, from what I have seen so far (which is not much) may be more of a fair or festival with heavy nationalistic overtones. But, we will see. Or, really, I will see and report back with honesty.

Back to being an art tourist!

Some Friday Notes.....

2009-06-05T08:11:00.000-07:00

Yes, it has been a bit of time since I last wrote. Over the past week we have had two hours of art history (9-11), then lunch, and studio class (bookbinding from 1-5 or 6). So to say we have done a bit is an understatement.

The school we are stationed at is a small group of building housing a computer lab, general classroom tables, two rooms for printmaking equipment, and one room with tables in a more studio space. We use the general room for art history, and the studio space tables for our bookbinding class. The other students (in the large format class) are over on another island, Murano, in a very large and spread out printshop within a glass blowing complex. Over the past week our class has made small travel logs, and hard backed books that the spine is actually made using cords and leather. Today we learned how to sew headbands, the stitched dual-colored pieces above the pages in some hardback books. After a long week, and battling a headache, the meticulous nature and repetative steps of the headbands was calming. And I found that it is my favorite part about making books, stitching together those tiny tiny headbands using silk thread. It put me back into the mentality that I use to print and draw, which I had not been in relatively recently because of the stress of learning two book structures in less than a week (the equivalent of half a semester of class time at school, fyi.)

However, also extremely theraputic was ripping down paper last night on the tearing table in the Murano studio. After class we went over to the see the print studio our other students were using, which was gorgeous. I had been carrying a roll of paper around the entire day, with the intension of tearing it down to small sizes for my text block. I spent over two hours just measuring, folding, and ripping/cutting with a knife. It was AMAZING. I know, I'm crazy. (Also, look: I found the apostrophy on the computer '''''''''!!!!!)

Side note of advice: the quickest way to look like a local in extremely tourist cities is to carry around random things ie. big wrapped up rolls of paper or hardware ie. make shift bookpress with threaded rods sticking out the top. You will be studied by pondering locals trying to analyze whether you are actually one of them while attempting to identify what you are actually carrying.

The interesting, non-studio things we have done include visiting the Peggy Guggenheim Collection, down the street from where we are staying; and speaking with Alfredo Jaar, an artist participating in a curated exhibition in the Biennale. Walking through both sites was really interesting to compare the two (one permanent and one temporary, one fully set up and one at the tail end of their installation, one past and one present). The docks of the area are amazing as well. Next week I will be spending more time there, so these topics with be discussed in further detail.

I have also had some really nice dinners and nights. I finally found my way over to Lido, where the beach is. Erin, another student, and I left our hotel at 6pm, after the Guggenheim and artist talk that day, in our swim suits to go. After getting off the vaporetto the first thing we notice: cars! Yes, I have not seen a car in almost two weeks because Venice has boats. It was a bit ridiculous, really. We walked across the island to the free (and empty) beach, where I went swimming for about 30 minutes. Erin just sat and read, she decided it was too cold and I was a bit crazy. The air was getting cool, and it was around 7:45pm, so I finally decided to stop, plus my stomach started boycotting the rest of my body out of hunger. We then meandered over to a restaurant and had the 'tourist menu,' a fixed price menu of 14.50€. (Yes, we owned up to our status finally of tourists). The night continued as we finished, got dessert, and made out way back to the hotel. It was finally a relaxing night after 12 days of non-stop, and also the first night I did not do any real homework after class, which I am okay with.

Anyway. This is getting long and I am getting tired. I will write about some of the other adventures in posts that will go up this weekend-I promise.

Buona notte!

Cimitero e Burano e Shepard Fairey

2009-05-31T08:26:00.000-07:00

Just a note about my daily life: If anyone wants to Google Map my location: I am staying in the Foresteria Fondazione Levi. This hotel is next to the Rio San Vidal, next to the Ponte d'Accadémia, a major vaporetto stop on the Canale Grande in the San Marco neighborhood. Basically I am staying in the heart of Venice, about 15 minutes away from both San Marco and the Rialto Bridge.

Yesterday we stopped by Burano, a small island north of Venice that used to be a major fishing town, but now caters to tourists looking to buy lace, its main commodity. For my bookbinding class we will be making books based on the lace of that island and its history.

However, afterwards a bunch of us took the vaporetto to the cimitero, or main cemetary for the islands. The cemetary is beautiful with the tall trees throughout the island. The graves are a combination of above ground tombs in rows, similar to those of New Orleans, and then older graves classically dug. Igor Stravinsky and Ezra Pound are both buried there with their wives. Joseph Brodsky's grave had quite a few flowers on his. Many graves had photographs of the people buried on the tombstone, some almost 100 years old, still intact. Almost every grave had brightly colored flowers in a vase built into the tombstone. Despite the fact that they were clothflowers, it still added to emotions felt. While walking around the area, I got chills running up and down my back once I spotted a grave of a boy born 1988, and died at the age of 7 in 1995. If alive, he would be exactly my year. Visiting graveyards is strange, especially because the practice of permanently marking graves for commoners seems like a relatively new tradition. I must admit that it is quite possible that I prefer the act of burying someone without a marking or stone that would last more than 100 years. Almost everything we walk upon has been created because something else died there, a natural cycle. Marking the graves is a good thought to commemorate the person who has passed, but more for the people close to those people to celebrate their life and be comforted by their fellow mourners. However, marking graves for every person who died does not seems natural to me for some reason. That person's life will be remembered through the ripple effect of the people they interacted with. Is that not enough? I guess this was brought up especially because of the old photographs and flowers that looked as if they were recent, as if the graves of these people who passed over 100 years ago were still kept up. Anyway, enough with that.

In another thought sequence, I watched Shepard Fairey (with four assistants ranging from 18 yrs to about 30 yrs old) install a board in Campo San Margherita. He used a combination of wheat paste and matte medium to install it. They took these huge brushes (mop cleaning type brushes) and quickly installed a series of screen prints in the Shepard-Fairey-esque way onto a rectangle (6' x 20') wooden panel. It was really interesting to watch these five guys work together to paste it up between noon and 13h30 (1.30 pm). I was fortunate enough to observe it from start to finish, as they arrived a little late and I had some reading with me so I grabbed a bench and killed some time until they got there. The Italian channel 13 had a young guy recording the installation and the crowd gathered around. All the supplies of sheets to post, tape, etc. were kept in a traditional deep purple suitcase. It was windy, which made working a bit more difficult. After the entire installation, Fairey was pretty open about people speaking with him. I walked up and got his signature on the back of stickers that were being handed out in black, with the signatures/tags of the four other assistants in dark blue marker. After talking to one of the assistants I found out that the youngest, Spencer, was the actual baby on the Nirvana cover for their first album way back when. Another, Nick, had gone to college in Florida for printmaking for undergrad, where he met Fairey and started working in his studio screenprinting. Z had made stickers online (or ordered them...not sure which) from Fairey for a long enough time that he eventually met him and started working with him. I am not sure what the story of the fourth, Dan, who seemed like one right hand was, but probably along those lines. Anyway, it was a really great experience to meet and talk with these people. Even just watching a person work, which I have now done on three different days (paper maker, paper marbler, and street artist), is fascinating. When printing, I get into a specific zone of concentration that serves as a comfortable place for me (hence my focus in it). These three (or eight including these assistants) all as makers probably have a similar experience-to an extent, obviously depending on what they are doing.

All in all, my days are packed and fascinating. Now that I have regular computer access in the classroom for my Art History class, I will be writing longer blogs because this is also my personal recording of what happened every day. Also, as the classes pick up I will be doing more in the studio and less out in the street. Just to give you a heads up!

Buona sera!

Paper, Paper, Paper and Shops

2009-05-29T09:20:00.001-07:00

So far, in our three studio days, we have met two different old Veneitian men who specialize in paper-related trades: sculptural paper making and using pulp experimentally, and marbling paper. Both speak only Italian and French, have lived in Venice for over 20 years on streets that snake back into the depths of the residential areas, and share the same philosophy: to continue to experiment, experiment, experiment. And seriously research the trade and practice what you do - a philosophy I share. Watching those men work was an experience in itself because of the mastery they each brought to their specified trade, almost a serene kind of thing. The process of marbling was studied by Alberto, the master, in Turkey because of the commonality between the serenity of Whirling Dervishes and the process of marblizing paper, a fact I found very interesting.

Last night (after class) and this morning I wandered around looking in different shops: paper shops, mask shops, fresh fruit markets, etc. With two other people, we found one of the oldest mask shops in the city where the people make it within the shop, continuing the craftsman trade handed down through Venice. The man who spoke to us owned the shop, and even gave us the names of the two other shops in the city that followed the same philosophy, explaining that each shop was different and you need to look around to find the mask right for you. (The masks are related to the two week Carnavale Festival prior to lent, aka Mardi Gras for two entire weeks, in Venice at the end of February.)

Walking around the Mercato Centrale near the Rialto Bridge and seeing the market was comforting in a way because of the fresh markets I frequent in Baltimore. Addionally that area, although it contained many tourists, served the locals as well. A bread shop we wandered into was definitely a local hotspot with many Venetians lined up yelling orders at the staff, all knowing each other.

Anyway, my time is up. Wandering is the best advice I could give!

Finding the Venetians

2009-05-27T09:40:00.000-07:00

First of all, please excuse the substitute of quotation marks for apostraphies, I cannot find them on the computer.

Yesterday I arrived at my hotel in Venice to be informed by the only other student not traveling with the group over from the states that yes, their flight has been delayed. Delayed by a strike from the pilots, for five hours. So yes, the group is still on the ground in Paris, an hour after they were scheduled to land in Venice. Which was a blessing in disguise.

Jake, the sophomore printmaker who informed me, and I walked around the neighborhood of the hotel for a while, getting lunch hanging out, until 8 pm, when the group arrived (original arrival time: 11.40 am).

Venice lacks the public green space that the states have because most of it is behind closed doors. However, after spending 1.5 hours eating lunch we wander into a green space next to a church just on the edge of a small canal. While sitting there atleast two dogs tried to relieve themselves extremely close to us, with another three smelling us. On the steps leading down to the canal a group of a Venetian father with his two young sons (4 and 6 maybe) and their cousin (12ish) [visiting from the UK] were crabbing near the side of the canal on the steps leading down to the blue water just below. Additionally, a boat of seven people parked next to the canal, the two youngest men hopped over the stone wall to the sidewalk (a small 5 feet, but we were hoping to see the more elderly couple attempt the same....never happened!). They returned with a bottle of champagne and hors d"oeurves (spelling?!?), and jumped back into the boat. Over the next 45 minutes they continued to socialize, drink, and eat. Throughout the time they group greeting quite a number of other locals. Afterwards, the same two men jumped back over the stone wall to return the plates, cups, and empty bottle. Then they turned right around and drove out the way they came!

The moral of the story: I have finally found the Venetian Venice, with locals and community that are the few remants of this vibrant city. And was so relieved to see it.

Vive Venice!

Buongiorno d'Italia!

2009-05-24T14:28:00.000-07:00

Buona Sera!

It is currently 11:31pm in Bologna in Daria's apartment. A fan is set up in the red tiled floor to assist the kitchen air from becoming as sticky as the rest of Bologna. Two of us dressed in t-shirts and boxer shorts work on the white marble top kitchen table: one studying for her last exam-a finalization of the said semester abroad, the other typing her first blog entry of the summer in foreign lands, or as it seems. Spending a summer between studying in Italy and trail construction in California is definitely 'abroad,' having never stepped foot in either place definitely constitutes as 'abroad' for me. (Although technically in CA through a plane connection, but that's a detail you and I can agree to ignore).

This summer I will be studying in Venice, Italy through the Printmaking Department focusing a studio class in book binding and art history class on the Venice Biennale. First I visited Daria for a week (where I am currently), then in Venice studying. After which I will head out home on June 15th. Then on June 16th I fly out to California for an internship in trail maintenance and construction in Whiskeytown Recreation Area in Northern (central) California, a job I found through the Student Conservation Association. Moving natural objects, restoring trails, etc. lasts from June 16th through August 17th, when I fly home to White Plains, NY. And start my senior year at Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA) at the very beginning of September.

Yes, this is an introduction to the blog, it will be up and running as a 'true' blog shortly, as this will be a chronicle of the trip for both you, my friends and family and random readers, and myself. Until then, I will leave you.

Hopefully the summer heat is bringing a break and peace from the business that spring can at times provoke.

Ciao!