Peppers, sketching, and Boccaccio

Dear Blog,

My Italian host mama loves to add peppers into everything she makes. Tonight She made a soup with tomatoes and meatballs that you mix into a cornmeal liquid. I was happily eating this concoction when I saw red skin, which appeared to me as tomato skin. So I picked it up with my spoon and greedily put it in my mouth. No sooner had I done this then my tongue lit on fire. “Burn! Spicy! Can’t breath!”, were the words that came out of my mouth as I flitted my hands around trying to explain why my eyes were tearing up and why I was starting to cough. Caterina finally realized, more like remembered, she had put two hot peppers in to add some flavor. Of course I got one. Sadly the rest of the meal was somewhat ruined as my tongue had gone numb.

Tonight I am trying to finish all my art assignments that are due tomorrow. I have eight garlic sketches, a value sketch and an atmospheric value sketch due. Each garlic takes about 30-40 minutes depending on if I feel generous to take an extra 10 minutes to finish it. The value drawings take hours, and hours. It may not look like they do, but trust me I have black fingertips and cramped up hands to prove it.

Since I have been in Italy I have just recently come to know how the famous artists felt after being commissioned to paint something. My case is not quite as extreme of course, but nonetheless I feel overwhelmed. Caterina asked me to draw her granddaughter Adelle!! She loved the one I did of her mother and when I accepted she raised her arms and said, “BRAVA” ! I told her I needed a photo but then she said she wanted me to do it when Adelle was here. Does she not know I can’t draw?

How can I even attempt to draw when this little one year old won’t be sit still for more than a few seconds. I looked at Sharlie for help but she just laughed in my face as she walked in her room. Supportive roommate, I think not! J

Today in Humanities Alessandro introduced me to a writer/poet: Giovanni Boccaccio. Have any of you heard of him? He is known for his novel, The Decameron. My interest was immediately captured when we read some of the text. Each page of the introduction just got better and better. The story is 100 tales told by ten people (7 ladies, 3 men). They go to the country during the black plague (1348) and seclude themselves from the outside world. Each day one of the ten is elected to be the king or queen and choose a topic. Then all of them tell one story about that topic. Each day all ten tell their story, and after ten days it made a total of one hundred stories. The book is all about the different tales and such. I strongly recommend the read. I will definitely read it all as soon as I get the chance to buy it!! Here are two sections to give you a feel:

1. Every time I stop to consider your natural inclination to pity, most gracious ladies, I recognize that you will find the opening of this present work abhorrent and distressing; for so is the painful recapitulation of the recent deadly plague, which occasioned hardship and grief to everyone who witnessed it or had some experience of it, and which marks the introduction of my work. … You are to look upon this grim opening as travelers on foot confront a steep, rugged mountain: beyond it lies a most enchanting plain which they appreciate all the more for having toiled up and down the mountain first.
2. Now I have it on good authority that as our city was in these straits and practically deserted, one Tuesday morning seven young ladies assembled in the hallowed church of Santa Maria Novella. They were virtually the only people present to hear the Divine Office, and were dressed in mourning as the times required. They were united in a bond of friendship or blood, or else they were neighbors, and the eldest was not past 28, the youngest not less than 18 years of age, and each one of them was gifted with good birth, beauty, charm, sagacity, and a fetching innocence. … While the young women were engaged in these discussions, who should come into the church but three young men, of whom the youngest was aged not less than 25. Being in love, nothing could dampen, let alone extinguish, their ardour—not the present adversity, not the loss of their friends, and kinsmen, nor even fear for their own safety.

I am also going to post a few pictures of my art assignments. Sharlie and I kind of had fun making the pictures look like I am a serious art student! ( I wish ).