Through the Eyes of a Senior

A copy of my Baccalaureate Speech: May 17, 2013      

     This past fall I found myself tempted to re-enter Gordon and begin my adventurous life all over again, but not because of any regrets about how college turned out.  And certainly not because I feel I can relate to the underclassmen.  (While I can still remember what it was like to be in their shoes, freshman year seems like a lifetime ago.) 

            I am tempted to enroll in Gordon again because each time I toured prospective families around campus, selling them on all the opportunities awaiting them upon a four-year commitment, I reaffirmed my decision four years ago.  I told families that though it might not be everyone’s experience, I really did find my best friends among those I lived with my freshman year.  And I told families how I see Gordon through different eyes as a senior – that as I’ve grown as a student, I’ve also seen Gordon itself transform to become a better institution, making changes as small as adding a Panini maker, and as big as installing a new Provost and President. 

            Our class has had a unique position to witness several significant changes.  For better or worse, we saw the demise of Claymore and the rise of Chester’s Place (the tavern that, no, does not serve any alcohol).  We saw midnight Marty’s donut runs start off as a mysterious word through the grapevine and make their way to become a regular freshman tradition.  We saw the tiers disappear to make way for a more open and internationally themed cafeteria.  We were the first to experience the ups and downs of the “New Core.”  We spent a year saying goodbye to the Carlbergs, our pillars of strength and wisdom -- a family who dedicated so much of their lives to the college, and a first lady who told interesting stories in funny accents while always preaching the gospel.  The following fall we said hello to a new first family who immediately made themselves present in our lives through strolls around campus and a president who travels the world to promote our school and still finds time to work out with us in the gym.  Yet throughout these changes, the essence of Gordon has remained the same:  We are a place where students work hard and train to be witnesses to the Kingdom in whatever work field we enter.  My professors taught me not only how to be an exemplary Elementary school teacher, but also to love my students and respect my colleagues; to plan with integrity, act with patience and call on Christ daily to give me the strength to do so.  And this spring in a third grade classroom in Revere, I learned just how difficult that task is!

            Gordon College is also a place where conversation and community happen.  We are a community aware of the challenges that face us. And even if it takes a few brave students to open up the conversation, whether in the public space of our Chapel or among private conversations in Residence Halls, there are always people willing to confront hard issues head on.

            Our campus has 450 beautiful acres of woods, but the Gordon experience extends far beyond our property line.  As the body of Christ, we’ve boarded planes to Nicaragua to work in orphanages, to Detroit to encounter inner city brokenness, to South America to cross a language barrier, and to Italy to investigate the history of art.  Each day we load up vans to serve in Lynn or welcome under-resourced students to our campus.  We get in our cars and drive to practicums and internships to put into practice four years of hard work.  We make ourselves aware of our position as caretakers of God’s earth.  Though we admittedly don’t utilize them until late April when its time to turn in our resumes, we are thankful for all the opportunities Career Services promotes in preparation for life after college.

            I was overwhelmed by Freshman Orientation, but it has taken me four years to realize that as thoroughly prepared as we were to come, we’re even more prepared to leave.  As Freshmen we overcommitted and stayed up too late, as Sophomores we made the most friends we’ll ever enjoy at one time, as Juniors we traveled the world, and as Seniors we’ve had one foot in the college world and one foot stepping out, with the encouraging support of our apartment mates, mentors and professors.  I always knew this day would come, and I always imagined it would be hard to say goodbye, but I never expected it to feel so right.  The biggest comfort I take in facing the unknown road ahead is the knowledge that God has always led me exactly where I needed to be.  Leading me to Gordon for these past four years is by far the strongest example of His faithful provision and the reason I have confidence facing the future.    

Hindsight: Faith after Italy

Written September 30, 2012: this is an attempt to articulate and place closure on just one aspect of my time in Italy.

     Most days I forget about the fact that I lived in Italy, actually lived in an entirely different culture for four months of my life.  As I trudged through my first full summer day of class, work and homework, the Italian days of long lunches, conversations over cappuccinos and hours each afternoon to complete a single assignment already seemed part of a distant past. Two months later I was back on Gordon’s campus, a place that even though it had been nine months, immediately felt like home again. Each time I’m asked the infamous question, “How was Italy?” I’m forced to reach back to the memories I’ve tucked away and placed in a category I don’t quite know what to do with. How do you explain a town that most closely resembled a Disney movie? How do you explain the equal frustration and excitement of encountering art in ways I never have before? How do you explain a community that became so strong, but was still so temporary? And how do you explain the fact that despite the luxury of Italian life, I faced a whole new set of stressors as I confronted parts of myself I thought I’d left behind and learned to live in a community of people and in a culture extremely different from myself? I may not have time to deal with these questions in short passing conversations, but in the little moments I have to breathe, in conversations over coffee or in forced reflections such as this, I begin to intentionally piece together all that I learned while abroad. One of the biggest, and most unexpected, pieces of myself that was challenged and changed was my idea of church and faith.

            One of our first authentically Italian experiences as a program was attending Catholic mass at a local church. Not only did the language create a barrier, but the tradition and liturgy of the service was entirely new for me as well. In the middle of the service I was beckoned by one of the Italian women to participate in the service by bringing a flower to the communion table. I was terrified to approach the priest, but was assured that this was a way the town was welcoming us confused protestant students into their community, despite different religious backgrounds. Throughout the semester I continued to encounter the catholic liturgy and fight against my preconceived notions of what faith is. I learned to listen for God’s voice in an environment I didn’t understand and to appreciate the beauty and faithfulness in the continual sit-down-stand-up routine throughout a service. I experienced a celebration of Holy Week with more emphasis on the crucifixion than the resurrection. Even the weather mirrored the mood of our hearts on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Sunday morning as ominous clouds enveloped the sky as we thought about Christ’s preparation for sacrifice and readied our hearts for the wonder of an uncertain, foggy Easter morning that slowly broke out into a rainbow and sun-filled afternoon of celebration.

            My most vivid encounter with Catholicism was the overwhelming moment when I walked into St. Peter’s Basilica. I felt as though I had been smacked in the face with ornamentation and couldn’t tell what was beautiful and what was blasphemous. How could one building so equally mirror the glory of God and the selfish greed of our Heavenly father? My eyes settled on Mary’s marble face in the Pieta, and I was reminded of who my Savior is and reassured that though my faith was being challenged and broadened, I could find assurance in Christ’s death on the cross. Back on campus today, I am still wrestling with the emotions and questions this afternoon in St. Peter’s stirred through a poetry assignment in one of my classes.

            In the fourth month of Orvieto, my Art & Liturgy class learned about Catholicism through participating in four of the seven daily hours practiced by nuns and monks. We prayed the opening and closing hours (Lauds and Compline) on our own, held a morning Terce service as a class and went to an evening Vespers service at a local convent. Simultaneously we were studying the art of the Catholic Church and creating our own prayer books. This entire month was a beautiful intersection of the rich Italian catholic tradition and our own modern protestant customs. One pivotal experience for me was a conversation with a local cloistered nun (graciously translated by our Professor). As she explained to us how she felt called to be confined to the convent so that she could work and pray for the world, my own notions of vocation and service were seriously challenged. Though I am not called to physically dedicate my life in the same way this Catholic nun did, I was forced to think about how different my life might look if I took the scriptures as seriously as she does. What does my life of comfort say about how strongly I depend on the Lord for not only my physical needs, but my emotional and spiritual needs as well? I am still working to figure out how I can make prayer as prevalent a part of my life as it was during those four weeks. 

            Outside of the catholic tradition, my idea of expressing faith was expanded by the paintings that I encountered. I have seen a lot of art in my life, but have never been as challenged by the strokes in front of me as I was in Rome. Caravaggio’s biblical depictions of the humanness of Christ and seriousness of the battle between light and dark kept me thinking about the paintings for weeks after I had seen them. Michelangelo’s depiction of the stories of the bible throughout the Sistine Chapel both captivated and overwhelmed me as I tried in vain to take it all in. As I made my way toward the chapel, the halls were filled with hundreds of crucifixion paintings, a testament to how differently God speaks to us all.  One abstract painting of the embrace between the prodigal son and his father unexpectedly caught my attention, and when I took my Dad back to the Vatican two months later, made him pause as well.  The power of these paintings has forever deepened my understanding of the truth of the gospel. However, what do I do with the fact that many of these artists had seriously troubled pasts, and perhaps some wouldn’t have even called themselves followers of Christ?

            I know that I am not likely to express my faith through a painting or join a local convent. I may never step foot in another Catholic church again; in fact, I’m not sure how many people I will have the opportunity to share all my insights about faith with. But these experiences still touched me and, even if I haven’t totally figured out what to do with them, they are still very much a part of my life. I hope that I don’t continue to forget that I lived in Italy. I hope, instead, that when I stray away from the Lord, I remember that he will always embrace me like a loving father when I choose to come back. I hope that when I forget about the seriousness of the gospel, I will think of the dark reminders of Christ’s death and the beautiful hope in his resurrection. I hope that even if I can’t paint these things, I will struggle to write them, to express them in the best way I know how. And I hope that when I must remind myself to work with all my heart, as if serving the Lord, and not man I will remember the sister in Orvieto who is also sacrificing herself in a life of service. 

Parents, Pentecost & Perfection

Orvieto life is flying by right before my eyes! Since I’ve posted last I finished up my Renaissance Narrative class and am now halfway through my final class—Art & Liturgy. At the juncture of these two classes my parents visited for about 10 days and Orvieto began its biggest festive holiday season. Here are some more details about all of these exciting things…

Parents: After completing my final exam for Renaissance Narrative two weeks ago, I headed into Rome to meet up with Debbie and Fred!! We met each other at the train station and headed over to see the Trevi fountain. After about an hour of trying to follow multiple maps and my lack of directional skills, we finally found my favorite gelato spot in Rome and indulged ourselves. I stayed in Rome with them from Thursday night until Saturday afternoon and we filled up every minute of our time, trying to see all that we could of the art and culture that Rome has to offer. I took them to see the paintings and churches that I enjoyed most in Rome and dragged them from one impressive piazza to another. Friday evening we went to the Vatican museum and walked through its many exhibits in order to reach Michaelangelo’s Sistine Chapel. I loved seeing everything again, with a stronger sense of what I would be experiencing and a chance to see and notice things I hadn’t before. It was really fun to play tour guide, despite the fact that I wasn’t always so great at remembering how to get places in the city, but we learned to use all the maps we had and follow the somewhat consistent signs around the city.

Saturday afternoon we headed back to Orvieto where Mom and Dad stayed in three different bed & breakfast places for the remainder of their week in Orvieto. Throughout the week they got to see all my favorite places in Orvieto—the palazzo where I have class, my apartment, my favorite running route, the church I attend and the Orvieto’s Duomo, as well as all the shops, bakeries and cafes that are a part of my every day life here. They got to talk with a lot of my friends in the program, ate a lunch and a dinner meal in the restaurant where we eat every day and met some of the professors that are here this month, so they really got a sense of what my life is like here in Orvieto. On Friday we took a day trip to Florence to see some of the art there and mostly to experience what the city is like, its beautiful views and the river. OH and we did quite a bit of shopping at the leather market too! Saturday we went to Orvieto’s market in the morning and to another town in the area in the afternoon and then drove to Lake Bolsena to eat our market/bakery authentic picnic lunch. While I was in classes during the week Mom and Dad got to do even more fun Italy things, another towns and, more importantly, a vineyard. Throughout their week here we had so many wonderful meals full of lots of pasta, pizza, Italian meat and wonderful wine. I even got to got to eat with them at one of the farms they stayed at for a few days. It was such a luxury and a blessing to be able to sit around the table with them, process what my life has been like for the last 3 months and hear all about what I’ve missed at home. Talking with my parents is always such a refreshing and enjoyable things, so having face-to-face time with them was SO important for me. The hardest thing about having them here was knowing that I was also in school so I couldn’t spend every minute with them…which was good for them because they were on vacation after all! 

                                Trevi fountain & a nice long lunch at the Camp di Fiori  

walking around Orvieto & our last dinner together

Sunday was Pentecost, which after seeing Orvieto’s festivities, is now my favorite holiday! All congregations in Orvieto met in the Duomo for church for a very long and beautiful service. Half of those in attendance were standing around the chairs because there were so many people, and all were dressed in their Sunday best—far superior to the outfits I saw on Easter! After the service came the releasing of the Holy Spirit! To symbolize the holy spirit being released on the early church after Christ’s resurrection, Orvieto releases a dove. At the end of the street was a tiny cloud, representing heaven, through which a dove in a capsul was sent down a zip line and into the tabernacle built and placed in front of the Duomo! Once the dove reached the tabernacle and was amongst the cardboard cut out apostles, firecrackers were set off! What looked like tongues of fire burned up and filled the area with smoke. Men dressed in medieval costumes played their trumpets and, after receiving the dove from the tabernacle, paraded it through the piazza and to what used  to be the Pope’s residence in order for the bishop to bless the bird and present it to the most recently wed couple. I have never seen so many Orvietani in one place, nor have I ever seen such a bizaare tradition! I really felt like I was smack in the middle of a Disney movie! It really was a fun time though and I can say with certainty that I will never forget this Pentecost celebration!! 

 church inside the Duomo                     the 'Holy Spirit' arrives at the tabernacle! 

Perfection: This past weekend was filled with what we like to call intentional relaxation and bonding time. We took our final group excursion to a few wonderful areas around Orvieto. The day started on beautiful Lake Bolsena. We spent a few hours sitting on the beach front, some of us swimming, some exploring the town….I just plopped myself down in the sand to write and enjoy the sun. Then we were blessed to go on a boat ride around the lake and eat our picnic lunch…it was beautiful! After that we went to the town of Bagnoregio and its bridge-connecting town, Civita. I had been to the town with Mom and Dad the week before so after re-examining the tiny almost abandoned city I did a little watercoloring J A perfect day came to a wonderful conclusion with a wine tasting! Friends of the program own a beautiful vineyard, Le Veleta, and were kind enough to give us a tour of their property, family chapel, house and wine cellars! They had a display of meats, cheeses and breads so we could try out their olive oil and three different wines. It was beautiful and relaxing day.

Saturday I had the opportunity to work on a farm! Students from the program have been helping out all semester, but yesterday was the first day I decided to give it a try! I worked in the garden and tied some tomatoes and picked lots of green beans while others hoed, watered and picked cherries. We had a wonderful home-cooked meal with ingredients straight from the farm. 

Sunday morning was a hike to a beautiful cemetery spot in the Orvieto region, and then lots of work in the studio. For this class we’re praying four of the seven main hours of the Benedictine prayer schedule. We’re creating our own liturgy and corresponding books for our morning and evening prayers. So I’ve been doing a lot of calligraphy, creating borders and tracing/transferring to create my own painting images. Its been such a different kind of art, lots of detail and structure so I’m loving it! 

boat on Lake Bolsena...

  Bognaregio

There are now less than 2 weeks until I fly home which is absolutely crazy! I am trying to enjoy every minute I have here…continue enjoying every bite of pasta, doing my favorite things and experiencing places I haven’t yet. It can seem an overwhelming task to live every minute fully, but I am trying to take it as an enjoyable and enriching one. I want to savor every minute and see what else God has to teach me before I join you all back in the US! And, of course, as I wind down my time here, my classroom life is NOT winding down—in fact, it is time to crack down and get some serious work done. I am praying that completing my last projects will continue to be an enjoyable and enriching process. 

Exploring Italy

The third month here in Orvieto is simply flying by! Two weeks ago we began another new class, Renaissance Narrative.  Its being taught by Dr. Skillen, the founder and former director of Gordon in Orvieto, and we’re discussing the intersection between narrative story telling in verbal form and storytelling through the art of frescoes. We spent a lot of time the first week discussing the differences between the artist in the Renaissance the artist today. In the Renaissance the artist was more highly regarded as a craftsman and were commissioned by churches and rich patrons to paint in monasteries, churches, private family chapels and family palaces. The best way to understand this form of art is to see frescoes in person, so that is exactly what we did in Florence two Fridays ago! We went to four specific locations in the city—a monastery, two churches and the Medici Palace. Here we saw some really famous paintings, all in the context they were originally created for. Even just walking around the main spots of Florence (The Baptistry & Duomo and Ponte Veccio bridge as pictured to the left) was wonderful. It represents the heart of the Renaissance and in my mind is a perfect depiction of quintessential Italy. If any of you get the chance, you should absolutely go!

About 15 of us decided to stay overnight in Florence after the ‘field trip’ ended. We spent the evening getting dinner at a market, walking around the city and listening to some live street music.

Saturday morning I went to the Academia museum and saw Michaelangelo’s David! That was an absolutely incredible experience. On Friday we saw the spot in Florence that the sculpture was originally intended for, in front of the ‘town hall’ of Florence. The statue is huge and so detailed and absolutely breathtaking. We were in the museum for a little over an hour and I spent the entire time in front of the statue—gazing, taking it in, writing and falling in love with the masterpiece. I’ve never spent so much time in front of one piece of art, so it was quite an experience!

The rest of the day I spent like a total tourist—hanging out in front of Florence’s Duomo, tasting what has been claimed to be Italy’s finest gelato, walking to Piazza de Michaelangelo (from which you can see the entire city) and shopping for lots of leather souvenirs at Florence’s famous leather market! Once again, the day was perfect and I wouldn’t have changed a thing about it. J

 

In week two of Renaissance Narrative we continued to dive into frescoes, studying in class and going to see four different cycles. In class we compare the written biographies and legends of Renaissance figures to the fresco cycles in Italian churches. We’ve seen frescoes about St. Francis and St. Benedict, the Legend of the Holy Cross and a Last Judgment cycle in Orvieto’s own Duomo. All the images we look at are beautiful, but so embedded in Renaissance culture that I often feel inadequate to study them. Each fresco tends to have a central theme and a lot of them lead back to scripture and the crucifixion, a reminder of how important religion was to Renaissance life. As we look at these frescoes, I have to reorient my mind from what has thus far been a really varied and more modern palate of art to a very specific time period and artistic style.  But being able to see all of the art in person and then really look at the details more specifically in class is helpful. It will be a busy next two weeks as we have a paper, creative project and test to focus on before the class is over! But here’s a bit more about the towns we saw…

Arezzo is a combination of Orvieto and Florence. A hilltop town with beautiful stone churches and a beautiful lookout spot of the surrounding Tuscan towns. 

 

Mt. Oliveto looks a bit like Rivendell…we drove up a hill and all of a sudden hit a mountain of treetops and sunlight. The monastery we went into would be a perfect retreat center. The soft stones and pathways make for a quiet reflection area—or a great picnic place in our case! It’s the monastery where Ptolemey went and founded his own order following the Life of St. Benedict. Here we saw the fresco of St. Benedict’s life, one of my favorites.

San Gimiagno is like the little  Manhattan of Italy in that it used to consist of over 60 towers! A handful of them still exist in the town and give it a unique architectural structure. The streets in the town are so picturesque that you could almost imagine it to be a town created by Disney just for our aesthetic enjoyment! 

During our free time in the town a few of us had the privilege of coming across a modern artist Antony Gormley’s Vessel exhibit. In the midst of a historical town, its interesting to open up the question of the place of modern installation art.  

 Some flowers outside the church...I couldn't help myself!

On Saturday I went into Rome with a few classmates to see more art and experience some serious European religion—a futbol match! We saw Michaelangelo’s Moses statue, tons of Bernini sculptures and Caravaggio paintings in the Borghese museum and ate some gelato! Our original plan for the day involved going to the Zoo, but unfortunately we relied on Roman signs instead of researched directions to find said zoo and when we found a zoo in the Villa Borghese it was almost time for our appointment at the museum and had to forgo the animals for Baroque art—overall a wise decision. J Being at the Roma soccer match was one of the most fun experiences yet—we were sitting next to the section of overenthusiastic fans and had almost as much fun watching them as watching the action on the field. And now I’m officially a Roma fan! 

Chasing the Eiffel Tower

Here we are on the cusp of May and I have much to tell you, so bare with me as I write a slightly-longer entry about one of my favorite memories of this time abroad and of all my life—my trip to Paris!

My Ekphrastic poetry class ended two Thursdays ago, and as soon as class concluded at noon I, and four of my classmates headed through Orvieto to catch a ride down the mountain, to catch a train to Rome, to catch a bus to the airport, to catch a flight to the outskirts Paris, to catch a bus to a main port IN Paris, to catch a metro to our hotel in Paris. Needless to say, it was a very busy afternoon of travel and we all collapsed into bed Thursday night and woke up bright and early Friday morning to begin our weekend!

Friday morning began with a search for croissants (sidenote: French croissants are better than Italian ones, but Italian cappuccinos far outweigh the French). Next we spent about four hours in the Museo de Louvre. Aside from housing some of the world’s most famous art pieces, some great book stores and two beloved Starbucks shops (where I had possibly the best latte of my life), the Louvre is the most interesting and beautiful museum I’ve ever been to. Because of the overwhelming amount of art, we followed our map to some of the most famous pieces, including the Mona Lisa! Seeing Da Vinci’s most famous painting is an interesting experience because the painting itself is probably only a little over a foot in height, incased in glass and completely surrounded by eager tourists. To even see the painting I had to fight my way through about a hundred people to the front of the roped off space in front of Mona Lisa and her curious smile. My favorite moment of the morning was seeing a statue called “Cupid Kissing Psyche”, its marble is so smooth and beautiful, but the figures’ flesh looks as soft as ours and it captures a beautiful embrace between lovers.

We spent the afternoon walking through gardens and along the Sine River, eating crepes and stopping in shops and at vendors’ stands. We went into Notre Dame which is an absolutely gorgeous cathedral. The inside fulfills the very definition of gothic style with smooth, gray arches and stain glass full of yellow, blue and red. It was beautiful and I just kept thinking that the cartoon, The Hunchback of Notre Dame portrays the building really well, so good job Disney!

The evening was spent at my favorite spot in all of Paris, possibly all of the world—the Eiffel tower! Our method all weekend long was to spot a main attraction from across the river and walk towards it until we found it, so that’s precisely what we did with the Eiffel Tower. The closer we got to it, the more difficult it became to find because buildings and trees blocked its view. All of a sudden we turned around a random corner and the tower was standing right in front of us. Framed by the quaint cobblestone street and a few green trees, all the posters and pictures I’ve looked at of this magnificent structure came alive. I realized I’ve been wishing and waiting for soooo long to be able to see this beautiful tower up close and was so caught in a moment of joy I screamed and probably could have cried too! We first came across the tower in daylight, began to climb the first two levels it in dusk and by the time we caught an elevator all the way to the top, evening had fallen and all the lights throughout the city were turned on and the Eiffel tower was glowing in brilliant yellow against a velvet black sky. We spent hours walking around each lookout on the tower, trying to find all the spots we’d walked throughout the city during the day, taking in the beauty that is Paris. As we descended the tower, it began to mist and rain and as we walked to find a restaurant to eat dinner, the tower sparkled. We had a fancy dinner at a French restaurant, including dessert and wine and walked around Paris at midnight before getting on a metro and heading back to our hotel. It was the perfect day, one I’ll remember forever as one of my favorite!

Saturday morning we went to the Museo d’Orsay, which was filled with impressionist art and a lot more specified than the Louvre. I enjoyed the museum because each room was organized by artist and time period, moving from neo-impressionist all the way to post-impressionist artists. We saw tons of Tolousse LeTrec, Serat, Luce, VanGogh, Degat, Monet and Renoir paintings. They were so beautiful and particularly meaningful because so many of these artists spent time in France; when I looked at VanGogh’s painting of a river at night I felt like I was looking at the exact spot of where I was the evening before, the colors as magical in the painting as the felt in real life.

After the Orsay, we set out on a quest for more crepes, baguettes and the Luxemberg gardens. The gardens were beautiful and we spent a good amount of time there taking pictures, drawing and writing. Then we headed back to the Louvre and walked from there all the way down the Chams Elyssey  to the Arc di Triomphe. Once again we hit this beautiful monument right at dusk and saw it change from the colors of daylight to being lit up with a glowing orange. We went back to the Eiffel tower to see it one more time and watch it sparkle again (which happens every hour on the hour). Another perfect day was topped off with a Nutella and banana crepe before heading back to our hotel. Sunday began at 430 and was a hectic day of travel—we almost missed our bus to the airport because of some transportation mishaps at the hotel, but our concierge was very accommodating and even though we had some bumpy and terrifying rides, we all made it back to Orvieto in one piece! So thank you for all of your prayers.

In a few days I’ll tell you about Florence and all I’m learning in class #3: Renaissance Narrative.

inside the Louvre  

Cupid kissing Psyche 

on the Seine river 

a lock bridge where engaged couples leave a lock and throw away the key into the river! 

savoury crepes 

Notre Dame 

first encounter with the Eiffel tower 

Evening Paris from the top of the tower

Parisian baguettes :) 

inside the Orsay

Luxemberg Gardens 

 outside the Louvre at twilight

the arc di Triomphe

the magical Eiffel Tower

2 months in!

Tomorrow I finish my second month of classes! I will be finished with Ekphrasic Poetry and begin Renaissance Narrative on Monday morning.

I've had some amazing moments in class and out...learning about the process of poetry and the weight of words. Throughout the class I've written poems about famous paintings as well as encounters I've had with the art and life in Orvieto. The "Orvieto" ones were a really great and unique way for me to process the things I've been learning and the things that have impacted me most throughout my time here.

We're halfway through life in Orvieto which is absolutely crazy! I've definitely been hitting more moments of homesickness and feeling overwhelmed with how much is left to go. But the next two months are the busiest, so I'm pretty positive the time will fly by and June 16th will be here before I know it.

As a program we've had some beautiful moments this week. For the past month we've been split into two classes: Painting and poetry. Monday morning we came together to share some of what we've learned since arriving in Orvieto and more specifically in the last month of classes. It's amazing how much we can all relate to each other, on both personal and academic levels. On Tuesday night we had a poetry reading and art exhibition. I've never read my poetry out loud (well probably because I've never written poetry before!), so that was a strange and rewarding experience, but it was great to read in the context of everyone I've been learning with. After the reading all the art students displayed the Stations of the Cross paintings they've been working on. It was such a beautiful and rewarding evening. These are the moments when I feel most excited about the work I'm doing here and most secure about my place her in Italy for this semester. I'm already excited to begin another round of classes!

So, my next step is...PARIS! One of the perks of living in Europe is the fact that I can take a weekend trip to France :) Okay, so its not that easy, we've had lots of stressful planning to make sure buses, trains and planes all connect and that we have a place to stay. I hope to see all the typical Paris attractions, but its a short trip so I'm just going to do what I can. I and four of my classmates leave tomorrow night and will fly back to Orvieto early Sunday morning. Any prayers you can send our way for traveling mercies are MUCH appreciated!

For now, I will leave you with the two poems I read on Tuesday night.

The first is based on the still life below, entitled Arezzo. Each of us wrote a somewhat humorous response and read them as a collection.

Arrezzo Still Life

Perhaps it was late afternoon,

Or I suppose they could have positioned

The fluorescent light just-so. It was, after all,

1979—no lack of electricity

like the Dutch fruit masterpieces.

Was it always the plan to place

Orange pots on a wooden table,

In front of an orange wall?

The colors, though all in the same palate, are nice,

so someone did their homework.

We might call it ‘kitchen necessities’, I can hear them say.

But what of the egg? And salt but no pepper?

OH! I get it—those could be representations of all

Food and spice. See, the artist did make

Compositional decisions. It’s not that I don’t like it,

Because I do, its aesthetically pleasing. But what

Can it teach me? Please, tell me the thought

Behind these choices. I want to convey the access

We all have to simple, beautiful life. Escape the wars

And post-modern confusion and get lost in the

Peaceful orange. Oh, I say, thank you.

This next one is based off an assignment I had, "7 ways to view a wall" and since then has morphed into a more personal response to Orvieto as a city.

Ways to view a wall

Upon this vast wall stands

the weight of a city.

A place to visit that in a few months, becomes home.

Layers of brick support ancient stone.

Scales of gray and brown leave a record of the

millennium that has passed here.

Standing in the olive groves of the valley,

the town could be held in a human hand,

the Duomo balanced on fingertips.

But walk back up the hilly paths

and its two miles of cobblestone and the

sweeping mosaic will leave you breathless.

This fortress was home to a temple,

And a cellar to ferment wine,

And a site for Etruscan battles

And Roman invasions.

We’ve seen it on a thousand postcards,

but inside these walls we find

cafes on every corner, old stone

churches in every quarter, shops to

accommodate locals and tourists alike,

And food.

Restaurants serve at one and at eight.

Each baker an artist, their medium a croissant,

Each chef a master of pizza and pasta.

Fresh tomatoes and olives on every

plate, oil drenches each bite. All served best

with a glass of wine.

Under the shadow of this wall, the Earth comes alive.

Plants grow from Tufa

Birds chirp, salamanders slither

Wind blows through the grasses.

The wall grants permission to travelers

Who leave only to reflect, renew, respond.

Then pass back through to be challenged

By community formed in the classroom

of an old Palazzo.

Welcome to Orvieto.

Good Friday Reflections

In preparation for Holy Week, we spent some time in class talking about the Via Crucis, or Stations of the Cross. Drawing students worked on paintings and my class worked on poems. On Thursday in class we spent the morning sharing our work with one another, and it was such a blessed time.

Thursday evening I attended a service during which the main event was a foot washing done by the priests for twelve men from the community (one of which was a guy from my program who has been singing in the choir with me).

Tonight members of Orvieto took a "Via Crucis" around the town. We held candles and walked through the streets to places that represent the fourteen stations Jesus took from the moment of conviction until his burial. This was such a beautiful thing to be a part of.

I want to share with you two poems that are a meditation on the Passion and all that Holy Week represents.

A Maundy Thursday Service

Gray sky about to burst into a violent storm,

It is just as I imagine it to be in Gethsemane

And later at Golgotha.

I enter sacred space.

Carved Via Crucis line the walls,

The choir sings “Hosanna,”

Priests wear gold robes.

Old friends embrace, a past of

Shared struggles in their eyes,

Shared comfort in each touch.

How difficult it must be for frail bones

to maneuver these pews.

But faithfully, they receive the elements.

Water is consecrated to clean the feet of twelve unworthy men.

The priest begins. Every kneel, every limb extended,

A sacrifice. The stench of freshly removed boots,

Like dusty feet that have traversed all Jerusalem.

There is no glory in washing another’s feet.

A kiss on the foot,

A reminder of how unworthy the apostles were,

How unworthy we all are,

To receive the gift of a King.

Eager children pass out bread and flowers:

His body, broken,

Hope in its redemption,

Accessible to all.

I want to weep.

I think of You.

How did you remain composed that night?

When you knew

How your body really would be broken like the bread in your hand,

How your blood would spill, like wine burst from its sack,

How your faithful disciples would be driven by fear and

Hand you over for gold,

Attack the soldiers with violence,

Deny you.

You spoke to them, but they did not understand,
You really are the Holy Prophet.

On that eve of darkness, could you see the light?

At the table you spoke those timeless words,

But in the garden you wept,

sweat and tears, you wept.

This is a drawing in the chapel at the Palazzo where I take classes. This is a depiction of the Eleventh Station of the cross, Jesus being nailed to the cross, and is the inspiration for my poem.

The Eleventh Station

It has been a long journey already.

This is the beginning of the end.

Jerusalem fades behind him now,

None of them knows the temple is about to be destroyed.

Soldiers hold the on-lookers back.

We have captured the “King of Israel,”

The Pharisees supervise, arms crossed in disdain.

“Let him save himself now,” they scowl.

“Hold his arm! Grab his leg!”

Laborers lower his body.

They choose three nails for his hands and feet.

This work is not pleasure, tying down the Son of Man.

They feel the pain pulsating through his veins with each blow

They have no idea how those nails

Will pierce the hearts of generations to come.

“Father, take this cup from me

before the state destroys me.

You could deliver me.

To these nails and to your will, I submit.”

I stand in the chapel and I see my face

in the Pharisees’ pride

in the laborers’ fear.

And I, too, have pierced his hands

and again I will fall and puncture his side.

But in his face, I find comfort.

It is not fair,

but it is grace.

These are moments from the Via Crucis through the streets of Orvieto.