Parking my bike, I noticed the forecourt to the church was open. I walked in to view the frescoes and was greeted by some wonderful music emanating from the speakers hidden amongst the columns. I carefully looked through the windows of the doors to the church, and noticed some sort of concert going on. After a few minutes of deliberation, and seeing a number of people come out, I decided to go in.

It was a trio; flute, cello, and harp, with a woman performing a narration between movements. Not wanting to interrupt the event, and not knowing if I was permitted to be there, I stood at the back beside the doors for what was probably half an hour before deciding it was safe to find a seat.

What beautiful music it was, and what an opportunity. Here I was, in Florence, one of the most artistic centres in the world, enjoying a concert of pure, classical music, inside a centuries old basilica. I was more than pleased to have worn my collared shirt, since many of the others were dressed in good shirts or evening gowns. Morgan, entering mere seconds after I decided to find a seat, came and sat next to me and there the two of us enjoyed the remaining 15 minutes. Beautiful… it was simply Beautiful.

I later found out, after picking up one of the forgotten programs, that it was a concert/fundraiser marking the 720th anniversary of the Ospedale, on the east side of the piazza. 720th. Wow.

Full of appreciation, we rode back towards home, stopping on a walkway over the railyard to let the night sink in a little longer. The lights on the mountain in the distance reminded us of home, and just for a moment I was homesick. But it was a good homesick – the kind that made me appreciate everything I have back home, and everything I have here, right now. It also helped me appreciate a few of the things I have gained since embarking on this trip: a big one being a number of good, close friends, and a renewed love of biking.. Though certainly not forgetting the knowledge, experience, and inspiration that are so key to the life of any who spend real time in Florence. It must be impossible to visit this city and not be changed by it. It’s real. And I’m here.

After returning home, brad, derek and myself grabbed our computers and headed out. It was our final hours in Roma, and I didn’t want to spend them sleeping. We headed for the Campidoglio and I kept on for a bit to enjoy the shadows in the back overlooking the forum. What a sight to behold at night. The lights and sounds of the surrounding city proved only to distinguish the contrast between the dark silence of the forum. This play wonderfully highlighted the ancient textures of the arch of septimus severus, and the temple of saturn; the scale of which was hard to grasp amongst the tourists and overcast sky..

But last night, it was surreal. I could easily imagine a trimpual march through the imperial core.. visualizing the forum as it was intended to be. With the colosseo, gently lit, standing strong in the distance, the power, and might, and legacy of Rome became fathomable at last. So I sat, overlooking the ruins of what I consider the most powerful civilization in history, and I got it. And I loved it. And it was one of my most favorite moments in Rome.

After a quick visit to the park above the Campidoglio we returned to the Celio to use the net, when I finally uploaded some photos and said some hellos.. and when 3:30 rolled around, we headed back. I could have easily given Derek and Brad my bag and toured the city till dawn – cameraless, but not without a memory and words with which to communicate it, but it was bed time. And now I am in Tuscany, in Dolciano, outside of Chiusi. And as I said last night, I am already Romesick – homesick for the eternal city. City of life, history, chaos, and something that cannot be put into words. I will FOREVER cherish and remember my time in Roma.

Before I knew it, I was back home, packing my bag. Adding this, subtracting that, making sure I had all I needed, and nothing I didn’t. More friends, more goodbyes, one final sunset, and one more late night. It’s after 2AM, and I’m to wake in 6 hours to prep for departure at 1600hrs. I’m excited, I’m nervous, I’m anxious, I’m overwhelmed, and I’m underwhelmed, I’m tired, and I’m ecstatic. 24 years of experience. 4 months of research. 1 week of final planning. 1 flight, 1 transfer, and 2 meals. 1 amazing adventure, with 14 great friends, and 1 talented prof, in 4 beautiful cities.

Here goes nothing.
.. and by nothing, I mean everything.

Farewell Vancouver; Italia here I come!

Once I made it to the car, I wasn’t ready to leave. Not yet. Key in the ignition, sun roof open, I winded my way up through the depths of the parkade and onto the street above. I called up Norbert, suggested gelato, picked him up, and found a spot to park up the hill from Denman. The girl at Mondo seemed happy for the business, suggesting I try some raspberry cheesecake. We then headed to the beach I missed out on earlier in the day, to sit and savour the moment. The sky, half painted black by clouds from the west, glowed the shade of dark ocean turquoise I have always loved. It is that time of day, no longer evening, not yet night, and something past twilight. The city lights, contrasted to the deepness of the colour in the sky, with dark shadows of trees and unlit condos, and reflections of all on the water’s surface…. I’ll remember it. I’ll remember it as I walk along the Tiber. I’ll think of it when the overwhelming pace and complexity of Milano makes me yearn for tranquility. I’ll miss it, gazing out my suburban bedroom window at the fence 6 feet away, and the wall of the neighbouring house beyond that. I’ll relive it when I move back in a future that has yet to be decided.

****

Wandering the streets of the city snapping photos.
Walking the sea wall with gruppo5, then half of downtown and the burrard st bridge; all 16km of it.
Blading the sea wall and false creek, and then doing it again. 13km each.
Cherishing a final coffee at the park at 9am under the glowing spring sun.
Watching the sun set in a glorious show of colours, reflecting off the glass towers all around.
Singing and playing my best in a competition of Rockband and American Idol (and reaching a tie at 100% on expert) with a handful of great friends.
and Smiling every chance I could.

****

Red Jumpsuit Apparatus – Your Guardian Angel

Clouds scattered the sky as we crossed the 2nd Narrows into North Van. The towers of downtown, sparkling in the distance, were no match for the mountains drawing us north. We winded up through residential hills before reaching the final lot outside Lynn Headwaters. Now, I’m sure I must have visited Lynn Valley at some point in my youth, but if I have, I can’t remember. Either way, I’m positive I wouldn’t have hiked the same 9km as a youngster.

It started off pleasant. Sun venting through the treetops, highlighting the undergrowth below. As we ascended, ice chunks began falling from the canopy, waging warfare on our heads. We reached a lookout, providing a partial view of the metropolis below – the bridge crossed earlier, perfectly aligned with our current location. Back into the forest, the snow underfoot grew deeper as we continued, and our shoes doubled as skis down many of the slight dips and slopes. Dozens and dozens of photos later, we reached a clearing that lead towards the creek splitting the valley. The sun that had been playing hide and seek decided to hide once more, as snow began to fill the sky. 4ft snowbanks lined the path towards the water, beckoning childhood emotions within me. I resisted the urge to duck, or dig, or write in its walls, but the others weren’t so restrained.

The snow grew heavier and turned to rain as we made our way back along the trail that followed the creek. No longer sheltered by the forest canopy, we found refuge in the occasional tree well. Fellow hikers or park goers grew in number as we neared the end of the trail. It was getting to be midday, and families were out to take advantage of their day off. We were glad to be near the end of the return trip, having enjoyed minimal human interruption on our journey. As soon as we reached the map at the trail head, and crossed the final bridge towards the lot, the clouds parted and the sun celebrated our arrival.

I made it home, bidding farewell to my classmates before taking advantage of the hot tub on the main floor, and retired to my bed to rest. It was no more than 3pm, but my Good Friday was nearer to being a Great Friday.

****

Spotting rowers in the dark below the Cambie Bridge.

Enjoying fare dolce niente with the roommate.

Finding a new outfit to make Easter a little more special.

Singing my best in that new outfit to make Easter a little more memorable.

Leaving time between commitments to sit, ponder, and improve.

Appreciating, savoring, living, and loving every minute I get to spend in my room, apartment, neighbourhood, and city, before the approaching move back to Delta.
Zoning out in lectures to write, reflect, and share, and feel great about doing it. Sorry Zorana!

And then, as if it weren’t enough, a rainbow, bridging light and dark, reaches across the horizon from one side to the other. Surely the rest of the world must be in night, as we have all the power of the heavens on us in this moment. I yearn for my camera, to capture, to steal the world assembled before me. Yet I know the record would do the event no justice at all. So I sit. I leave my eyes open, to absorb the piercing rays, watching houses and hills and trees and mountains flash by outside the windows of the train. And then it’s over. Back behind the clouds, to guide us into the night. I know it will return again.

****

thank you for the time we shared.

when it was just you and me, alone.

your hand in mine, my head on your shoulder.
p.s. those days are gone.

when did you ever miss me?

how could you forget to want me?

when were you going to tell me
i meant more to you?

i thought you were mine.
and i was there when you needed me
but you never did.

you left me on my own.

p.s. i love you

did you forget what it meant?
because i still remembered,

but i had no reason to say it again.

i told myself it wouldn’t happen any more
then you’d reply and i’d find you,

i’d see your eyes and find hope again
just to be left in the background. again.

our love algebra; arrested development
.
you wouldn’t give me what i longed for.

you couldn’t even recognize it.

you won’t remember me when it’s over

and i’ll try not to remember you,

but that’s not so easy for some of us,

when love went unconsidered.

****

“…there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and it’s too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst… And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my life…” (american beauty)

****

the setting sun, on the 135 down the hill.

a murder of a thousand crows.

a healthy dose of live jazz and delicious eats.
friend, photoshoot, blue sky, clear water.

* * * *

Digging into the gas pedal after red turns to green before a long stretch of open road.

Climbing into bed and turning off the lamp each night.

Reading chapter after chapter of textbook after textbook, and enjoying it.


* * * *

The field study director needed our returning dates today before sending the info off to the school travel company. They’ll be booking our flights to Italia next week, for the field school this summer. I’ve planned to spend an extra 2 weeks after we finish up in Milano, likely to be spent making my way across the Riviera, down to Barcelona, then up to Paris where I’ll fly back home. Nearly 2 months in Europe. It’s going to cost far more than I have, and it will often be 12 hour days of interviews, research, and presentations, but it will be worth far more than I’ll ever admit. In the meantime, I need to concentrate on finishing projects and research presentations efficiently enough to find time to sleep, and maybe even hit the gym. When in Rome, … look as the Romans did? That’s the goal. Besides, no one wants to see a walking hanger.

For I am awaiting a multitude of unknowns. Some that have been planned in advance, and others that have developed over the past few months, or less. Some will challenge me and teach me, and some will surprise me. I will find joy, and I will find heartache. These things, I know.

A new light, a new year, a new perspective.

I stood outside the door, the heat quickly escaping me. Surrounded by shadow from a pale blue light, the moisture of my breath turned to steaming clouds as I enjoyed the stillness of the night.

Fields flew past, riddled with patches of dead grasses, painted with a thin layer of frost. Silhouettes of hibernating trees danced among the frozen air, suspended above the ground as if to erase the minor imperfections from its surface.

The bleak midwinter echoes in my ear, trailed by a choir of children’s voices.

I’m inaccessible without you here,

A hot shower makes me thankful.

it covers me. and covers me.

amazing love.

****

Dan, thank you for introducing me to the world.

Shore, thank you for letting me in. And for sharing.

RP, thank you for not giving up.

Bitt, thank you for being available, and thank you for reading.

Crick, thank you for listening, and caring.

DHon, thank you for not acting any different.

Qmom, thank you for so many kind words.

Warner, thank you for reminding me.

Marks, thank you for the emails, and the hours, and the pieces of you.

brock, thank you for hope.

<<<<

I don’t know. It’s likely a result of a drained brain from school stresses, but I feel like all my emotions are trapped inside of me. I see so many beautiful things, and enjoy the occasional evening of content, yet I don’t have words to describe them. I like describing my life. It helps me remember. Without words, memories fade.

Help me remember this?


~~~~

.

I will spend hours a week cloudwatching. Every time I enter a room, no matter where I am, if I’ve been there before, or if it’s the first time, I head to the nearest window to catch the sky. Think about it. Who would ever have thought tiny bits of water vapour make for such an amazing sight? Especially in the autumn, when the chilling winds carry these forms from one end of the sky to the other, like it’s some sort of atmospheric freeway. Sometimes they can be so high and such a bleached white you’d think God himself could be found riding atop, where other times they can be low and so dark it’s as if the sky had caved in.

Then there’s the rain. If you’ve spent any time in Vancouver, or Seattle for that matter, you know the rain of which I speak. For some, it takes a while to get used to it, while others never quite manage. Me? I love it. We had rain every day for the month of January last year, and into February. Most of the autumn and winter season is made up of long periods of rain, but that one was extra fun.

As I boy my mom would reprimand me for not using my umbrella when I walked home from school. I would carry it by the string, gently swinging back and forth, so I could enjoy the cool wetness in my hair. You knew it was a good rain when you got into the house and your hair had become so saturated and full of minerals that it dried exactly as it looked when it was wet. And when your sweater had grown a size too big, and your jeans had wicked up so much water from the ground that the dry line was just below your knees. What really made it great was knowing that after I got home, wet and moist, I could hop into the bath and mix it all together; hot and cold, stored and fresh; change into a clean pair of jogging pants and a good tshirt, and I was set for the rest of the day.

Did I mention the scarves? If there’s no other reason to love autumn, at least love it for the chance to start wearing scarves again. Well not just scarves, but sweaters too, and button-up coats. And mittens. The small knit ones that develop holes in the fingertips, that are soon stretched to make for full-blown finger holes.

The foggy windows in the busses and trains, making it a game to know where you are based on the stops and turns the ride follows.

The early sunsets, leaving more time to grab a hot apple cider and return to a good book on the sofa.

The relieved faces of fellow element-goers as they come indoors.

I heart autumn.