One Of Those Quietly Joy-filled Days ... in Italy

 You know when you step into so much beauty that you almost cry ... ?

It was like that today, as I arrived at my new 'location' for these next few days.

Diana and I are preparing our  Beautiful Truth Retreat for a small  group of women who are flying in from all over the world.

And while we made plans together over months, the reality of where I am to spend the next few days is truly overwhelming today.

I remember my first visit to Diana and Micha's place.  During the tour I noticed a small table next to a green-shuttered window, with a view out over a lush Italian hillside, and I imagined how it would be to inhabit that space for a while ...

Today I am writing this from that exquisite location.  And it is as good as I imagined. 

There is work to be done in the days leading up to Sunday but for today, I am luxuriating in the quiet joy that has filled me to overflowing.

A glimpse ... just a really small taste of what I am talking about. 

Only a glimpse because I am running on a few hours of sleep, after a 3am start for the 4am airport bus and my 6.30am flight to Mlian.  Despite that, it has been a day filled with quiet joy.

I woke while my plane was crossing the Italian Alps.  Laid out below me and not too far away, it seemed, was ridge after shadowy-sunrise ridge, rising up out of the delicate early morning mist. 

It's been like that today  ...

France ...

You must learn one thing.

The world was made to be free in.
Give up all the other worlds
Except the one in which you belong.

David Whyte, extract from Traveling With Pomegrantes.

I was in France these last 5 days, near Lyon, for a beautiful wedding and was startled to realise that not every hotel offers good internet connections.  The one I was on was pre-Flintstones and I was unable to reach the back-end of my website.

It was disappointing because I use my blog like a journal on occasion.  I was reading a superb book full of ideas that I would love to have noted and there were photographs like the one below, taken that first evening.

And now, two full days to process a few hundred wedding photographs before flying out unbelievably early on Thursday.

Tot straks.

Why I Won't Buy An Electronic Reader ...

A poignant and compelling book about feminine thresholds, spiritual growth, and the relationship between mothers and daughters, Traveling with Pomegranates is both a revealing self-portrait by a beloved author and her daughter, a strong new voice, and a momentous story that will resonate with women everywhere.

One of the things that stops me from falling for an electronic reading device is my huge love of secondhand books.

My lifestyle demands the light and easy convenience of an electronic reader but I remain completely unable to commit to one.  Everyone talks of 'how many' books they can load and read.  And I admit, I end up traveling with as many as 5 books if I'm away 2-3 weeks, muttering about the weight of my luggage but still I just can't commit to 'electronic'.  I came close recently but I felt grey inside when I imagined it all.

Yesterday I walked into my favourite secondhand bookshop here in the city and discovered Traveling with Pomegranates, by Sue Monk Kidd and her daughter, Ann Kidd Taylor. 

So many of my books have been serendipitous finds and there are bookshops, dotted around the world, described by me as those places where treasures are found.

Shift this hunger for paper and serendipity to Genova, in Italy, and I have La Feltrinelli's.  Their English selection isn't huge and yet I always come away with something superb.  A book that allows me to leave feeling as a good Catholic might feel just after the Pope has touched their hand. 

You know ... ?

Or in Istanbul, where time spent in the Robinson Crusoe bookshop was time I considered most delicously spent.

I can't comprehend the notion of not spending hours exploring bookshelves nor do I want to miss the pleasure of opening a new book ... or a new 'old' book.  I love looking to my left, here at my desk, and seeing the 3 red bookshelves loaded up with books I have loved and read ...and those books still to waiting to be read.

It's like that for me. 

Below, a completely unrelated image that I rather liked ... titled, Chris's science experiment in London, Clare will remember.

Aperitivo and The Opera Of It All...

I have these incredibly talented friends ... Peter Furlong, the fabulous tenor and Julie Wyma, a truly talented soprano.

Back in July when I was in Genova, and referring to the post that follows this one, Simon began posting dreadful photographs of me on Facebook.  His Facebook comments section came to life.

It turned out Julie and Peter were reading it all in Berlin and voila, before Simon and I had moved on from our third aperitivo bar, the song of it all was there on the internet.

I love them.  They make me laugh.  They did another short opera about my new office chair ... over here.

The lovely Veronica features in it, warning Simon of witches and calling him mean.

On the Aperitivo Trail, Genova

As always, there were so many stories in Genova, so many I intended to write up but I arrived back in my Belgian life and there were more stories unfolding.  The end result is that a handful of stories are told and the others ... well, they just stay with me, as memories to be sifted through or written up later.

I was winding up my stay in Genova back in July when Simon flew in on that second last evening.  He had 12 hours in the city, as he was dropping his son off with his mother-in-law.  We had a choice for dinner that night - a simple dinner someplace or an aperitivo-style exploration of the city. 

Nothing new for Simon, as he knows the city well.  Paola, his lovely Genovese wife and friend of mine, owns the apartment I stay in when I'm there.  He spent a few years living there and they return when they can, from their Belgian life.

And so it was that we began with aperitivo at Cafè il Barbarossa.  They offer a lovely outdoor setting, an extensive cocktail menu, and they're only a few steps from the apartment.  He chose a cocktail and I remained boringly loyal to my beloved red wine.

We wandered over to Mentelocale Cafè.  Simon selected another cocktail while I continued with red wine.  You should know that each drink comes with a range of snacks.  It's a lovely 'other' way to have dinner.  We moved on after a while to a place that was rather more upmarket.  Their buffet selection of snacks was rather divine.

The first photograph, in the series below, was taken with Simon's phone.  No other cameras were on this particular expedition.  The cocktail you see was called the Missionary's Downfall.  Simon wisely stayed with rum-based cocktails and admitted he could see how the taste of that particular drink might have led missionaries to let themselves down some.

The second photograph was taken after my second glass of wine and is more about the humour of the moment than the amount of wine consumed.  Actually, that evening was so very warm and humid that I very sensibly matched every glass of wine with water ... more or less.  Maybe not enough but an effort was made.

We wandered down into the caruggi, looking for a particular bar somewhere off Via Canneto il Lungo but I think it was closed and so we wandered on, ending up in the piazza that tends to be the pulse of city life in the evenings ... Pizza delle Erbe.

It was there that Simon decided it was time he stepped away from the cocktails and he embarked on a more sedate exploration of red wines available.  Having complained, long and loud, over photographs he had taken of me and posted on Facebook, I saw a photo-op as Simon relaxed at this outdoor bar and there he is, at the end of this photo selection, with a facial expression I'd not seen before.  It had to be recorded for posterity ... or perhaps as payback for the horrors he had posted earlier in the evening. 

Veronica had had to chide him for a small degree of 'mean' over those postings.  Thank you, Veronica, your loyalty was appreciated.

I cannot tell you how nice it is to sit outside on warm summer's night, in a small piazza in Italy, drinking red wine and chatting while the Italians surround you with all of their conversations.  I think it's one of the things I love best but rarely do, as I'm mostly alone while there.

We ended the evening at my favourite pizzeria ... in the world. Seriously.  The most excellent pizzas can be found there and the owners are lovely.  We split a pizza, there was a little more red wine, a conversation with the pizzeria owners and voila, we were done.

Thank you for a most excellent evening spent wandering Genovese streets, Mr Litton, and to Paola who guided us when Simon was lost in the maze that is the caruggi. 

The Poppy

My way of seeing involves using my 70-200mm lens in ways that most people wouldn't.

The bulk of my portraiture work is done with that telephoto lens.  The bulk of my photography actually ... I'm always a little bit sad when I have to change to a wider or more 'appropriate' lens.  I do it but only if I must.

I keep finding folders full of work I haven't really explored.  This was taken back in 2009, stored away, and not examined again until now.

A poppy in a garden in the city of Mesen, Belgium.