One should really use the camera as though tomorrow you'd be stricken blind. To live a visual life is an enormous undertaking, practically unattainable. I've only touched it, just touched it.
Dorothea Lange 1895-1965.
Grazie, Tara.
Showing posts with label traveling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label traveling. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
a visual life ...
Italy ...
I was standing in the piazza, looking around after a satisfying early morning wander and I noticed this scene ...
La vita e bella.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
That house in Boccadasse, Italy
I guess I'm counting on the owners of this house not reading my blog, or if they do, that they forgive me for wanting to live there.
It's perfect and I can only imagine how superb a spring tide or a storm might be. It's out on the point, back behind it is the beautiful curve of the bay at Boccadasse, complete with all kinds of good restaurants and gelato shops.
So yes, this is the place I would like to live ...
God Rays, Genova
I heard that god rays was the name given to these stunning beams of light ...
It was like watching a symphony as this storm came slowly down from the hills and rolled over the sea, with the clouds breaking open and roiling around.
It was truly stunning.
A storm at sea, Genova
So if you leave the beach at Boccadasse and follow the narrow path up the hill, you come to this lookout that gifts you this view.
Then depending on the mood of Nature that day well, anything is possible.
Boccadasse, Genova, Italy
I began today processing people photographs, working at the kitchen table until it was time to set out in search of my morning cappuchino and the bus to Boccadesse … that old fishing village I walked to on Sunday.
Do you know ... there’s this bus that leaves from just below me here at Porta Soprana and stops near the top of the stairs that lead down to the beach at Boccadasse … so much simpler than walking and being lost in the heat of a Genovese autumn day.
I would write ’but the bus is less interesting’ except for the fact that I met the most interesting woman as I returned via the bus and we talked all the way back to the city, saying goodbye in the Italian way. So even the buses are interesting here.
I arrived at the beach in time to watch a rain storm making its way down from the hills. I was up at the lookout for maybe an hour and it was stunning. I really don’t know how I will leave this beautiful city.
So there are photographs from today … as a creature who adores Nature I found it simple to take more than 100 images of light changes playing over the sea and then one or two other subjects I am passionate about. You see, I found the house I would like to live in …
Ciao from Genova in Italy.
Monday, October 27, 2008
The new neighbourhood... Genova, Italy
My neighbour there in the distance, more or less, is an ancient city gate built in 1150 or thereabouts (she writes without reference notes) and this is the street leading 'home' ... past the cafe with the stunning capucchino (interview today) and on past the other cafe with apertivo in such quantities that one really can't indulge in more than 2 glasses of red.
From the caruggi of Genova
I looked up while I was wandering the alleyways of Genova's old city today and was stunned by the light ... again.
The light here is beautiful, just in case you didn't know for sure. It's a gift as opposed to being a given.
See how close the ancient buildings are ... they almost close over top of you. Neighbours really are neighbours and yes, I was lost for a while but as is often the case, it was the best way to wander.
My gnocchi and pesto, Genova.
This was my second batch of gnocchi, and I'm pleased to announce it all worked out well enough ... for a foreigner.
The pesto from here is divine, truly divine ... as it should be in the city who invented it.
Eating Pizza in Genova ...
As those who know me will confirm, I have moments of social brilliance and ease and then there are those other moments, when Mr Bean looks like the twin I was seperated from at birth. And he's just an actor …
So last night I decided I would brave the pizzeria across the alleyway, without Paola's mum there with her Italiano. I started confidently, having woken from a nap imagining I could do anything, even without language …
Well, ordering the Napoli pizza went just fine but the red wine was where I went so wrong. There is a pizza called rosso-something and so began the undoing of Di as a relatively intelligent adult.
The motherly pizza-chef I like came over and we pointed at the menu, as per Simon's book of how to point in any language. Then the lovely old man, another customer, opened the fridge for me … the wine, beer and etc are stored in it and most adult customers are deemed intelligent enough to get their own drink … dear God!
I knew their music had woken me from my nap, their opening music, and I know this pizzaria rocks through the night with its own in-crowd. I knew I had to hurry, feeling as linguistically deficient as I do in these days..
I chose a table where I could look out into the alleyway, a mistake because it also put me in prime position in the dining room … I didn't realise until the place started filling and then … they gave me a plastic knife and fork, which makes sense because of the thin pizza crust but did real Genovese use them?
Pizza etiquette...
I smsed Gert holding in that nervous, oh-my-god-I-don't-have-any-idea laughter. I opted to switch between the plastic utensils and my hands, being the first one served as luck would have it I couldn't check out what anyone else was doing. There was me, the lone foreigner quite possibly breaking 50 of the 99 how-to-eat-pizza-with-dignity rules.
The pizza … oh the Napoli pizza is so good here. Not too many anchovies, just right amount of cheese and tomato. The red wine is fine chilled, the music is good and loud and the surroundings are purely delicious.
It's just me, feeling very much like a child of the South Pacific in this ancient city.
The good news … well, when I bit into that terrifyingly hard piece of pizza topping, I was A. able to remove it from my mouth relatively discretely and B. later identify the crunch on discovering that, just like last time, the end of that plastic fork prong had snapped off.
Oh, and my leftovers fitted into the rubbish bag without incident. If you knew the amount of worry I had invested in whether or not I could smoothly drop my leftovers and their cardboard base into that bag, I do believe you would applaud about now.
And the clown bows …
So last night I decided I would brave the pizzeria across the alleyway, without Paola's mum there with her Italiano. I started confidently, having woken from a nap imagining I could do anything, even without language …
Well, ordering the Napoli pizza went just fine but the red wine was where I went so wrong. There is a pizza called rosso-something and so began the undoing of Di as a relatively intelligent adult.
The motherly pizza-chef I like came over and we pointed at the menu, as per Simon's book of how to point in any language. Then the lovely old man, another customer, opened the fridge for me … the wine, beer and etc are stored in it and most adult customers are deemed intelligent enough to get their own drink … dear God!
I knew their music had woken me from my nap, their opening music, and I know this pizzaria rocks through the night with its own in-crowd. I knew I had to hurry, feeling as linguistically deficient as I do in these days..
I chose a table where I could look out into the alleyway, a mistake because it also put me in prime position in the dining room … I didn't realise until the place started filling and then … they gave me a plastic knife and fork, which makes sense because of the thin pizza crust but did real Genovese use them?
Pizza etiquette...
I smsed Gert holding in that nervous, oh-my-god-I-don't-have-any-idea laughter. I opted to switch between the plastic utensils and my hands, being the first one served as luck would have it I couldn't check out what anyone else was doing. There was me, the lone foreigner quite possibly breaking 50 of the 99 how-to-eat-pizza-with-dignity rules.
The pizza … oh the Napoli pizza is so good here. Not too many anchovies, just right amount of cheese and tomato. The red wine is fine chilled, the music is good and loud and the surroundings are purely delicious.
It's just me, feeling very much like a child of the South Pacific in this ancient city.
The good news … well, when I bit into that terrifyingly hard piece of pizza topping, I was A. able to remove it from my mouth relatively discretely and B. later identify the crunch on discovering that, just like last time, the end of that plastic fork prong had snapped off.
Oh, and my leftovers fitted into the rubbish bag without incident. If you knew the amount of worry I had invested in whether or not I could smoothly drop my leftovers and their cardboard base into that bag, I do believe you would applaud about now.
And the clown bows …
Sunday, October 26, 2008
And then I arrived ... Boccadasse, Italy
The reality was even better than the photographs that lured me here, although it was too full of people for this woman more used to empty New Zealand beaches.
So that was my Sunday.
I hope yours was a good one too.
Ciao!
A sparkling day, Genova, Italy
The sea was sparkling as I walked along Corso Italia ...
I was too actually.
It was an incredibly warm 20 celsius and the coast here was outrageously beautiful.
Today in Genova, Italy
This morning, I set out on a 6km walk to Boccadasse and like the adventurers of old, I was working without a map. Unfortunately navigation isn't a natural talent of mine...
To avoid mocking by any Genovese reading this, I won't write of the route I took but I was lost for quite sometime however ... the journey was surely as much a part of the destination.
You see, I found this as I was wandering along Via XX Settembre. The light was just so and this photograph was the result.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Just another day in Genova.
I'm not sure I have been in a city that satisfied so many of my senses before ... and photographically, Genova is quietly but assuredly sublime.
I am also privileged in terms of the people I know and in turn, sometimes I meet friends of friends. Today was one of those days and I've just come from spending some time photographing a beautiful family up on the hills above the city.
While there I was fed homemade pesto with pasta and all kinds of other delights, ending with gelato and expresso ... my cup runneth over today.
We have blue skies and sunshine here and even better, I slept deeply almost all night ... partially aided by a magically medicinal Chianti ... or perhaps it was the satisfaction of almost succeeding with the gnocchi. The words 'green and slimy' did cross my mind after realising that I might have over-cooked the gnocchi a little, that you really do just bring the water back to the boil to cook it.
I have photographs of the parcel the pasta came home in but that is a whole other story to be told when I'm organised and have small images here on my usb stick.
And last night I wrote 4 pages into what might just be a passable start at fiction. Writing is a habit I put aside a few years ago when my life changed and became more about adaption and survival than dreaming and writing.
It always takes time for me to make a psychological entry into any new life and perhaps the threshold has been crossed finally. The days ahead are going to be about exploring this city's history and natural beauty ... there are hills but my fitness is returning and the kilos are dropping again.
Did I ever tell you, I love wandering. Really love it.
I am also privileged in terms of the people I know and in turn, sometimes I meet friends of friends. Today was one of those days and I've just come from spending some time photographing a beautiful family up on the hills above the city.
While there I was fed homemade pesto with pasta and all kinds of other delights, ending with gelato and expresso ... my cup runneth over today.
We have blue skies and sunshine here and even better, I slept deeply almost all night ... partially aided by a magically medicinal Chianti ... or perhaps it was the satisfaction of almost succeeding with the gnocchi. The words 'green and slimy' did cross my mind after realising that I might have over-cooked the gnocchi a little, that you really do just bring the water back to the boil to cook it.
I have photographs of the parcel the pasta came home in but that is a whole other story to be told when I'm organised and have small images here on my usb stick.
And last night I wrote 4 pages into what might just be a passable start at fiction. Writing is a habit I put aside a few years ago when my life changed and became more about adaption and survival than dreaming and writing.
It always takes time for me to make a psychological entry into any new life and perhaps the threshold has been crossed finally. The days ahead are going to be about exploring this city's history and natural beauty ... there are hills but my fitness is returning and the kilos are dropping again.
Did I ever tell you, I love wandering. Really love it.
Friday, October 24, 2008
A little news from the streets of Genova
There was the old man who wandered along behind me for a time, whispering 'Bella' and making me smile. I wasn't sure he was talking of me until I stopped to buy something and came out to find he had caught up and there was the whisper again, 'Bella ...'
Having just become one year older, I feel of an age to appreciate all compliments that drift my way, no matter how ancient the man or how infirm the mind ;)
Then I looked up as I strolled through a Genovese streets two nights ago and saw 'I heart' and then 'Genova' and the lights exploded into a cascade of colours on a huge illuminated sign that captured my feelings about this city precisely.
I love Genova, she writes quietly, hoping nobody minds this excess.
There are so many small things that make me smile as I wander these streets without language ...
Meanwhile this internet cafe has become something of a second home, as I check here for emails I'm sometimes urgently requiring to plan my life here.
Ciao.
Having just become one year older, I feel of an age to appreciate all compliments that drift my way, no matter how ancient the man or how infirm the mind ;)
Then I looked up as I strolled through a Genovese streets two nights ago and saw 'I heart' and then 'Genova' and the lights exploded into a cascade of colours on a huge illuminated sign that captured my feelings about this city precisely.
I love Genova, she writes quietly, hoping nobody minds this excess.
There are so many small things that make me smile as I wander these streets without language ...
Meanwhile this internet cafe has become something of a second home, as I check here for emails I'm sometimes urgently requiring to plan my life here.
Ciao.
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