Aug 14, 2007 - Nibbles    No Comments


i guess everyone thinks we’re not committed to each other. janice went behind her desk and brought out a framed print to show me. i held it in my hands and realized she’s right.

Aug 9, 2007 - Nibbles    No Comments


i’m sitting here my heart being crushed under the weight of jealous. one twitter at a time.

it’s 100+ in N. Carolina.

No worries, he has a couch, wink wink.

we’re going to g. love tonight. i thought this song is so appropriate. i’m trying to make sure i never look back and wonder, never wonder if i could have done something more, wonder what would have been if.

this is brian’s song. he won’t know he’s singing until it’s too late.

your words don’t come easily no more
i wonder what your doing every second that i’m not with you

and now i see what i put you through
i should be gone
something keeps me hanging on
it’s instinct

but all this pain i feel doesn’t phase you
it’s funny what the drugs will do
and now i’m crying

now how could someone spend so much time so close
and almost so far away
how could two people stay together so long
just because they’re afraid to walk away

i swear to god we’re breaking up this time

the time is so wrong but the feelings so right
won’t you let me kick it just one more time
won’t you let me love you and hug you and squeeze you tight
won’t you be my darlin tonight
kiss me one more time before you turn your back forever
now you’re walking away

look me in the eye and smile like you did the very first time i called your name
tell me everything’s gonna be alright
even though i can’t hold back these tears
for five long years i was afraid to give it up
now you’re gonna leave me and my best friend is gone
i swear to god we’re breaking up this time

why won’t you let me love you baby
startin from scratch

why won’t you let me love you baby
startin from scratch

you’re my friend, and my sister, my lover
i don’t wanna find another to replace you
start all over again, start all over again

i swear to god we’re breaking up this time

Aug 8, 2007 - Nibbles    No Comments


i came here because i don’t know where else to go. some place that i can pour out my heart and be true. i feel bad because brian is hurting, but its so hard to comfort him. he told me that i’m selfish, and he’s right. i am broken, and the more that night is dragged out over and over again in my head the more i fall apart into tiny fractions of frisures of shards of soul. as i see myself from brian’s eyes i must wonder do i even have a soul? seeing the images in my head i hate myself for being so broken. for sitting there and taking it. for being fearful. he pulled my hair and yanked my head back. any cry trying to escape was trapped in my throat as it closed from the angle. i thought of veronica in that moment, and i felt sorry for her. other than that i remember legs. what a strange and literally disembodied memory. i don’t know why, but i distinctly remember three times. i guess i could be wrong, i guess it could be that it was one instance, and just three moments of clarity, but i really don’t think so. i wonder how it is that i could have lain there, freezing, in a bed soaked nearly edge-to-edge in urine.

yeah, so it’s all a little unreal to me. i can’t quite grasp everything. i can’t piece it together to understand how it is that i ended up here. it seems so long ago that i was happy, that life was good, we were solid and stable and meant-to-be. then the next day it was over. but i don’t have to recount that, the heartbreak is written out in my previous entries.

i just keep going over it again and again. i feel so stupid. i had been so happy. happy relatively speaking. i was so happy because brian had to have sent him to check on me, to ask me out. i was happy to be going out. i was happy because it meant brian was thinking of me. i texted him as i was driving there “where is my lemon drop martini”. i don’t remember if there was one waiting on me or not, but that’s what i drank. i don’t know how many, i don’t remember what else. i remember him protecting me from the other guys when they started pushing too much. or at least that’s how it seemed to me. i thought i was safe. i thought it was a good night. i think i beat him in pool. i remember that it was a good night. i remember being hopeful about us. i wasn’t boring, and he’d tell you that we had fun. there was hope. it seems to me that i was looking forward to going home. to climb into my bed. i announced i was leaving and headed out the door. he followed, and then his friend. they said i shouldn’t drive home. i resisted, i wanted to be home. as i told reed tonight, i had a secret dream that maybe you’d show up, or be waiting on me. but i relented. i knew you’d be happier that i didn’t drive.

i just thinking of how i thought i was safe. i asked for pajamas. i crawled into bed. i couldn’t tell you whether or not he was there. whether or not he was asleep. i felt safe. i was safe. and then there was the nightmare. i cried. in the morning i woke alone. i dressed. i went home.

i showered and i cried. i picked up the pieces, and i carried on. what choice do i have than to be okay?

Jul 7, 2007 - Nibbles    1 Comment


Last night I went to eat at “Baffetto 2” again. I took my book, Suite Française, and was seated solo on the alley at a table adjoining another. A lovely and elegant Italian woman and her friend, a Frenchman, were seated beside me. They noticed my book, and conversation ensued which carried us through the rest of the evening.

This morning at noon, I met them for coffee to discuss their recommendations for travel in Tuscany. I was thoroughly embarrassed to have arrived nearly ten minutes late. In any case, Cesarina and I are to meet again tomorrow at 11.30 for coffee and conversation.

This evening I’m meeting Rachel and we don’t have any plans as of yet.

I am also a bit sheepish to report that I’m pleased that I cleared out my email inbox—there is just something liberating to know that you’re not entirely behind! However I still have a growing list of things to do cluttering my mind, most importantly I need to transcribe the Ode on a Grecian Urn, and the Archaic Torso into my journal and memorize them!

Jul 6, 2007 - Nibbles    No Comments

Galleria Borghese: Bernini, Caravaggio, and Raphael

Pitch: Metamorphoses

My Sketch, a response to “Aeneas, Anchises, and Ascanius“:

Slackened form the burden to bear
that no man may slander

Each in turn holding onto
that life’s moment makes precious

At life’s end, he grasps his deities
ever conscious of the hereafter

Son, man, head-of-household, it is family that he ponders
It is on the strength of his back that his family is saved

Cuddled, cowered
Young carries the eternal flame, his life just began

Family escapes, life unscathed

We toured the Galleria Borghese today, and it was an inspiring experience. Bernini’s work is prominently showcased here, with Apollo and Daphne, David, Pluto and Proserpina (or The Rape of Proserpina), and Truth Unveiled by Time. Bernini is a master of a moment in motion captured in marble. I was also intrigued by the amazing detail in Canova’s Pauline Bonaparte, a sculpture of Napoleon’s sister who was reluctantly married to the reigning Prince Borghese. She was a scandalous woman who when asked how it was that she could pose nearly naked, blithely replied “Oh, there was a stove in the studio.” She left a legacy of tales regarding her jewels, clothes, lovers, the “negro” who carried her from her bath, and the servants she used as footstools. Titian’s Sacred and Profane Love, elements of the painting symbolizing “fleeting happiness on earth” and “eternal happiness in heaven”.

There was also a Raphael room which displayed paintings of the Florentine School, and allowed you to view the master with his teachers in a progression of technique.

The Galleria Borghese is simply one of the best in the world… it is as magical as The Phillips Collection in Washington, D.C. which stunned me with their Rothko room, and their amazing collection of recognizable pieces, including Luncheon of the Boating Party.

Jul 5, 2007 - Nibbles    No Comments

Caravaggio: Out of the darkness comes light

Pitch: Chiaroscuro

This morning we had a Caravaggio walk to start off our first morning back. It was really nice because we met up at 9.30—which is pretty late for us. We walked first to S. Agnostino’s Basilica where we viewed the Madonna of the Pilgrims (1604-06). Interesting to note, the model was a prostitute and her babe in arms. There was also Raffaello’s Prophet Isaiah as well.

I wrote my poem on the painting of Madonna of the Pilgrims.


From darkness comes light.

Fingers splayed holding ample flesh of shifting child.
Legs dangling, foot so close to the hand of one who entreats him.
Lines formed from child to follower, eye to eye, to sole of trodden foot.
Mothers gaze awry.

Perspective drawn so that we are too—only ever to gaze up upon him.

From darkness comes light.

Next we went just around the corner to Chiesa di San Luigi dei Francesi where Caravaggio has three pieces: The Calling of Saint Matthew, The Inspiration of Saint Matthew, and The Martyrdom of Saint Matthew.

These were amazing pieces showing his deftness of composition of motion, movement and light. One day when I get time, I want to overlay these paintings with circles and lines showing the perspective and motion in composition.

Finally we trekked out to the S. Maria del Popolo again to revisit the Crucifixion of Peter and the Conversion of Saul. Matt let us in on Caravaggio’s life a bit, explaining of how he ran from Rome (he killed a man—a friend of the Pope’s, and was found to be sodomizing young boys), then was fast-track knighted elsewhere only to be hunted again when he was found to have done something so vile it could not be written (and thus forever undocumented). The Borghese’ entreated the Pope to pardon Caravaggio because they were desperate to have him return to Rome and their patronage, and finally he received word that we was welcomed back. However somewhere north of Rome he disappeared and his body was never found. Remember that he would paint his pieces with consideration of where they would be shown in mind. This is what makes the pieces in S. Maria’s so intriguing, because the butt in your face, or the horses hindquarters towards alter are no mistake. He also liked to paint feet dirty, gritty and real, which was an often an issue for the Church’s taste. He had to repaint The Inspiration of Matthew because they wouldn’t accept the grit and grim of the first. Hence Matthew’s odd stature where he looks like he’s off balance and going to fall off the chair. Caravaggio didn’t hide bitterness well. (The horse’s hindquarters are facing the altar piece because he wanted to do the altar piece but they commissioned another artist instead.)

Jul 4, 2007 - Nibbles    No Comments

Miseria in Capri

So we met up this morning at 8.30 to head into Sorrento to catch a ferry to Capri. Off to a good start. We arrive and first thing locate the stand to buy tickets for the Blue Grotto. Unfortunately the Grotto was closed for hide tide/dangerous water. Consoling ourselves, Rachel said the only way to see the Blue Grotto is to come back on a friend’s private yacht. I agreed. Instead we took the boat around the island which was actually quite lovely.

Back at the Marina Grande we picked up a sandwich and fruit in the deli then followed the Germans to the bus up to Anacapri. From there we took the lift to the top of the hill. It was an interesting experience. The photos of the view are from the top. The view is well worth the €7, and it’s a great spot to eat your lunch. On the way up there was an curious spot where someone who loves to collect trinkets obviously lives. I captured a few photos of it on the way down.

At the bottom again we determined there just wasn’t enough time (given Italian bus dependency) to go to Lido del Faro. Instead we picked up the bus headed to the bottom again. We got off in Marina Piccolo and wandered around in the streets overstuffed with shops. There was one, 100% Capri it was called, that had the most amazing linen clothes. Of course they thought so as well. The shirt I lovingly fingered to revel in the texture was only €240!

We worked our way back to the main piazza where I was delighted to find a limone granite stand. I bought two while Rachel grabbed tickets for the funicular. Finally back at the bottom in Capri’s Marina Grande we decided we wanted off the island and would rather relax in Sorrento. We spent the last hour together wandering Sorrento’s market streets where I picked up Baba Limoncello while Rachel found an Italian copy of Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury.

We arrived at the station with my bag and a ticket in hand just in time for me to board. (I’m thrilled—I get to see Rachel again in Rome this weekend!) Somehow the train just wasn’t the direct one that was noted at the station. Instead it stopped at every stop along the way, and even rested for about 10 minutes somewhere in the middle. I arrived in Napoli a little late for the train I wanted, and instead ended up on an express for just €10.50. Not bad.

I shared a cubby with a 25 year old Frenchman who spoke about as much Italian as I do, and no English. We communicated well enough though, and it was nice to have male company to ward off the unwanted kind.

I got to Rome’s Termini at about 22.45 immediately picked up the autobus #40 and was home before midnight. Happy to have escaped Capri, sad to have left Sorrento and the Amalfi Coast.

Jul 3, 2007 - Nibbles    No Comments

Positano & Amalfi

Last night I walked Rachel down to the end of the street, and then headed back up to climb into bed exhausted. We were to meet after her class for our trip into the Amalfi Coast. I had a cappuccino and cornetti at the little snack bar outside her language school—Rachel is taking Italian lessons for the week—and lost myself in my book, Suite Françiase. At about 11 we caught the bus to Postiano and were proud of ourselves for having secured seats on the right side of the bus. Most of the view for the first portion was actually on the opposite side of the bus. I was bonked squarely on the head by an annoying little man who we would continue running into on the trip. He had slipped trying to take an ill advised photo leaning out the window of the bus. I had perverse pleasure in that none of his photos would turn out very well. He must have had short man syndrome, he had definitely earned the right!

The views were breathtaking and when we arrived we walked the highway most of the way down to the beach. Along the way we found a tiny local deli and had fresh sandwiches made. When we reached the shopping portion we ate on a little stoop. I reveled in the limone granite that we found, and we took a brief moment to appreciate the view of the city from the water looking back up. It was nearly three so we hiked up the hill quickly to try to catch the bus out to Amalfi. Unfortunately we arrived just moments too late and the next one wasn’t to come for an hour and a half! Tired, sweaty and suppressing crankiness, we almost literally bathed in the fountain and settled in to plan our trip to Capri and the Blue Grotto the next day.

We were happy to see the little man’s interminable family leave on the bus heading back to Sorrento, but we were joined but another clueless family whose father loudly proclaimed that they had been waiting the longest yet weren’t able to sit. I just looked at Rachel with a slight smile. Yeah, right.

Amalfi was cool. Honestly at the moment though I can’t remember much of it. Isn’t that horrible? I’m writing a day behind and the atrocities of Capri are looming and overshadowing my mind’s memory.

Back at home we picked up a bottle of wine and baba limoncello from the supermarket and then headed home. Showered and then started a lovely little evening. We ate the other sandwich from earlier, drank the wine and had baba’s for dessert. We tried to share photos, but the internet connection wasn’t working again. Venturing downstairs we had an unsuccessful run-in with the night guard who just wasn’t having it when I tried to explain how we needed to reset the router. Oh well. We stayed up late chatting—the front desk calling near midnight to ensure my guest would not be staying the night—Rachel roused and headed back home. We decided we Capri could wait for 30 minutes in the morning for extra sleep.