The Italian Blessing

I have done some editing and now I am ready to publish the Flickr slide show of photos from the Italian vacation, with a brief lay-over in London at the Tate Modern. There are, gads!, 243 photos---after editing. If you look at them, be sure to click the "fast" button at bottom, left, if things seem to be going a little slow. I realize this is not everyone's idea of an stimulating way to spend their precious time. I, however, am a fan of people's photos. I could look at them endlessly. I will spare you an analysis of my photo fetish, but I think it has something to do with a deprived childhood and a dysfunctional family...what else could it be?

Italy renewed my sense of freedom from the emotional and cultural bonds of an American life. I don't reject my American life. Rather, I am more interested in my capacity to elude its stifling homogeneity. I need a kick in the cultural butt, frequently, in order to remain creative, open-hearted and aware.

I doubted that travel in a western country could be anything but more of America. I was wrong, yet, again. The Italians have two things going for them that we don't, at least in northern Tuscany. These two things are "slow" and "home to anarchy." I'll say more about this another time, but you get my drift.

Travel for me, even at its worst, is always a blessing of renewal. Italy nourished me, and I am not talking about food, which was wonderful. I am talking out the traveler's experience. I was happy and sad in a traveler's way. I think that is the blessing of travel, the happy and sad, being awash in the whole spectrum of feeling. There is no closing down to survive the day. There is the opening, the encounter, the seeing---the sudden newness of everything.

Here are the photos.