Italy New Year’s Eve Tradition

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),
On the morning on 31 December, I read on a Facebook posting about Florence, Italy, that there was an Italian tradition for New Years: According to: Freya's Florence Tours - Freya Middleton: Don't forget to wear your red underwear to ring in the new year! Italians say it'll bring you luck in the coming year. Red wards off the malocchio (Evil Eye) and is a symbol of love, prosperity, and fertility... but it must be thrown away after New Year's Eve!

I was fortunate enough to have received four separate invitations for New Year’s Eve, each different in activity and energy. I wanted to try them all! But a girl only has so many hours in the day. Before bicycling into Scandicci to catch the Tramvia, I stopped in at my neighbor’s home. Giuliana had invited me to share dinner with her and her husband Renato. Their children all had other plans and I had told them that unless I could find a couch to sleep on in the city, I was not sure if I could go into central Florence for the huge casino (mess, chaos) that occurs there each New Year’s Eve. Everyone I knew was having guests.

But that day I received the invitation from a friend and decided to go into town. After expressing my regrets to Giuliana, she asked me to wait because she had a little gift for me. Imagine that! Can you imagine my surprised joy when I opened the wrapping and discovered a small pair of red panties! Oh, I was delighted! [My mother had guessed on Facebook that I would be going commando, so this was quite funny.] So, here is an image that Giuliana’s grandson Marco took of us. The image is not so happy as we worried about his ability to use the camera, but these are my sweet neighbors.

I roamed around in town until meeting up with my friend Jacopo at Giubbe Rosse, a famous café and artist hangout for at least a century. The café is situated off to one side of the famous Piazza della Repubblica and as I approached, I could see the band playing already on a stage set up in the square. Once inside, I met some new friends and saw some other people that Jacopo had introduced me to the week before. I have to say that I was still tickled by Giuliana’s sweetness that I enthusiastically pulled out of my backpack the red panties to show everyone at the table. Hearty and understanding laughs all around – I wondered later if “my momma raised me right” and was grateful that my friends did not think me too forward.

I had to leave them before I really wanted to because I was due at Susan’s flat. Once there, I went to put on my good luck charm. And so it went that the last night of the year was spent visiting wonderful people and roaming the streets of the city. I got kisses and vodka. I watched couples dancing together in the streets and people emptying their champagne and other boozy bottles before throwing them down into the streets, smashing the glass to pieces.

Loudly booming fireworks were going off all over the city and as I walked along the Oltrarno side of the river, I had this image in my mind that this must be a small sampling of what it must have been like when the Germans bombed the city back in World War II, destroying all of the bridges except the Ponte Vecchio. We always have yin and yang . . . we destroy with bombs and on this night, we celebrated with bombs, of sorts.

The following images were taken in Piazze della Signoria AFTER the year had changed over, perhaps around 1:30 a.m. since I was elsewhere at the hour of midnight. The orchestra playing was a new addition from other Capodanno celebrations that I have attended in Firenze. The musicians were positioned inside the Loggia dei Lanzi, among the famous stone and bronze sculptures. I suspect that was to protect them and their instruments -- even drunks here will have a strong sense of respect towards the art, if not each other.

On the other hand, I am not sure what to make of this: an interpretation or disrespect? On Via Calimala where two of my street painting colleagues had created artworks earlier in the day, I thought that I saw Claudio’s Madonna crying. Well, she was, but because someone had spit on her face in order to give her this emotional response.

I did not wake until almost noon today. But I wanted to follow the Italian tradition to the full extent. This last image was taken of me right next to the Basilica di Santa Croce, moments before I put the red panties in the trash bin. Hours later, I returned to my home and went to give my auguris to Giuliana and her family, who were all finishing up their holiday dinner. I was invited to join in the meal and while enjoying a lovely afternoon with the entire family, I entertained them with my story about the fate of the red panties. Susanna laughed and said that it really is not necessary to disgard them in order to become “in fortuna,” I only needed to wash them! [Would one not do this anyway??? Where is the drama in that? Had I just insulted Giuliana?] They also agreed when I told them that my mother suggested that this tradition was created by those in the clothing business. So, Giuliana helped the local economy and I have my cherished memories. Happy 2012!

Art and the Nude

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),
For the past two years on my New Year’s Eve blog entry, I have shared more erotic art than I usually dish up for you. In the line of thinking similar to that of those living in Pompeii centuries ago, it was my way of wishing you a sensuous, joyful, lush, and prosperous new year.

However, this year I have not had the time to create something along this vein. Sad, really since I believe that art is the safe place in which we can explore all aspects of our humanity. That said, I still want to wish you a thoughtful abundance for the coming year. I hope that you can become more spontaneous (I linked this word because many people misuse it) and express yourself more often.

I recently wrote a little bit about my holiday with friends on Captiva Island, Florida. I stayed in artist Robert Rauschenberg’s former beach house there, owned by his collaborating partner and long-time friend, Darryl Pottorf. In entering the place, I found myself intrigued by a composition in red, black, browns, and white. I had this strange urge to photograph myself nude in front of it. This does not really belong on my “erotic art” posting because I do not know how to explain that I was not thinking sexual thoughts when this idea came to mind. Maybe more like “Nature Girl,” I dunno. That night, I did pose for my timer, but fully clothed, boots and all…

One evening, Darryl walked me over to the painting before we headed back to his place for dinner with more friends. He explained most of the objects or shapes in the composition. This was a painting about Robert Rauschenberg (Bob) and Darryl. Darryl’s art is very personal. It made me wonder if I should lose the thought of taking nude shots with this beautifully sentimental work of art. But the idea persisted and I did not believe that I was thinking anything disrespectful. So one night towards the end of my visit, I woke up just before 3 a.m. and went to work, careful not to disturb the other occupant in the house. I was back in bed by 4 a.m. I hope you enjoy this image, but more: I wish you truly beautiful experiences from each day forward.

Links to the other New Year’s Eve posts:
• New Year’s Eve 2010: “Anthurium”
  
• New Year’s Eve 2009: “Tesoro!”
  

la bicicletta e la collina

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),
I must admit that I really enjoy living out in the country, even if I prefer easy access to the city. It is so beautiful living in the hills, with views of distant snow-capped mountains. This is Tuscany. However, I have not yet made friends with my local collina (hill). I do love her when I leave the house. The way to go anywhere is basically … down. But after a long day or a fun evening out, she presents the opposite side of her coin and I find it difficult to ride my bike UP her lovely lines.

When I was a child of about 12, I think, I remember the very first day that I ate an entire Big Mac burger. I also remember another day in which I finished the entire can of pop (‘Soda’ or ‘Coke’ to some people). I felt SO proud! We often remember our “firsts.” And so I am looking forward to my new challenge of this collina. Unlike a Big Mac or a soda pop, this hill will make me a stronger and healthier person for tackling her!

The first image here is one of the lovely scenes I get to view on my way home. The second is a picture of my bike -- a gift from a friend. I took the image of my bike on Christmas morning and you may see one bag of artwork going with me on the ground beside the bike rack. I parked there and rode the Tramvia to get to the train station since I went to visit a friend in another city for the holiday.

And on another topic. I am fairly convinced that today was the second time I was way overcharged for something because I am not yet a savvy foreigner. In a small mercato, I bought two lemons (well, actually, one lemon and one small citron [cedra in Italian], a lemon-like fruit that is used to make the famous limoncello liquor down on the Amalfi Coast of Italy). I was charged 1.50 euros! [That is currently about $1.93.] I thought the price high, especially after he asked me if the price was ok (and I was remembering one half of that illustration by Norman Rockwell in which the merchant has one finger pushing down on the scale, see below). All doubt was removed when a woman nearby remarked, “Buon prezzo!” (A good price!) I was pretty sure that was sarcasm and a joke between them. None of the other customers heard this sort of comment.

The other time I thought I overpaid was when I purchased a new bike pump recently for 20 euros. I felt that was way too much, but since I had previously tried the two pumps that were in my current home without success; the woman at the bike shop had just put air on both tires for free; and I wanted no problems during the holidays when I suspected that the stores might be more difficult to access, I paid it. Besides, I am not in a habit of arguing about something when I really do not know the facts. And in a free market, there is the reality that something is worth what someone is willing to pay for it. Enjoy the Rockwell!

Palazzo Pitti Italy Art

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),
Last night all of the state-run museums in Italy were free to enter as they stayed open late. So, after enjoying a wonderful aperitivo with a few friends in a cool place in Piazza Santo Spirito in Florence, we found ourselves staring at the long line in front of the Uffizi Gallery. It should have come as no surprise that everyone apparently had the same idea.

My friend Simone, one of my “character” friends who is always good for a laugh and often a dirty joke or two, suggested that the line would move fast and we should wait in it. But we had passed the Palazzo Pitti on the way over and noticed there was no line there. Both locations have so much to see, so it was a no-brainer to go there instead.

Well, we were in luck. The Pitti was having a very special exhibit that included works by so many of the greats and they had hand-picked these pieces from the Uffizi, Bargello, and other big name museums. So, we got to be close enough to touch a Botticelli, Michelangelo, Cellini, Donatello, and so many other names that I can only recognize them, rarely call them to mind. Such is my problem with labels. We were there for almost three hours until they began to close around 11 p.m. It was so cool to be inside the Pitti Palace that late at night! What views from the windows!

And while I was not supposed to take photos, since I do not use a flash, I follow that naughty guideline of “It is better to ask forgiveness than permission.” Mind you, this “rule” does not fit for all kinds of rule-breaking. So, I want to share with you some of the images that I took last night since I went to the effort and all . . .

And in closing, I just want to share that it is almost an overwhelming experience to be in a space in which you walk on design, look up at the ceiling for marvelous art, and then have the walls to compete for your attention! In fact, when the Italians put on a temporary exhibit, they erect colored walls to stand IN FRONT OF their decorated walls. It is bizarre how rich this country is with aesthetic and sensual experiences!

And I wanted to thank Linda Bell Brighton for featuring my charcoal and pastel (and SOLD) drawing “Tuscan Vista” on her blog Secrets of How to Write a Book. In a possibly strange coincidence, she also spoke about a quote from William Arthur Ward: “If you can imagine it, you can achieve it; if you can dream it, you can become it.” This made an impression on me as a young child (it was on the cover of a diary that I received one year for my birthday) and I used it as the basis of a speech I gave during my high school graduation.

Permesso di Soggiorno Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),
I am in Italy now and this post is not about art. It is about politics or at least government. And if you want to stay in Italy (or in most parts of Europe) for longer than 90 days, you must obtain a visa (probably from the Italian Consulate in your home country, as I had to do in America) and within eight days of arriving in Italia, you must apply for the “Permesso di Soggiorno” (permission to stay). Over the many years that I have been doing this, the process has become easier – a bit.
For many years it has been possible to go to the postale (post office) instead of directly to the Questura (immigration police). That is wonderful because the Questura is only open in the early morning for this part of the process and if you wait in line for hours, but arrive too late to the door, you get to repeat the experience. The post office has much better hours!

The color for the Postale is yellow. You will see a yellow banner in the signs announcing a post office and the bicycles of the mail carriers are yellow. When you enter the post office, you must take a ticket from a yellow machine and wait for your ticket number to be posted on the board with the number window for you to approach. Which ticket you choose depends on the service you want. For my task this week, I took an “F” ticket. This ticket is for the “Sportello Amico” (Friendly Window) and it is there that I picked up my application packet for the Permesso di Soggiorno.

As with English, legal language is not always clear and I had a friend help me through the forms. I do not understand government much at all. For example, one must buy a Marca da Bollo. That is a special stamp that currently costs 14.62 euros, but you cannot buy it at the Postale. You must go to a tobacco shop to buy one. The only purpose I can see for this is to share the wealth with the little guy. [Tobacco shops are everywhere. Besides tobacco, you may also buy cell phone minutes with most carriers, as well as lottery tickets. They have a decent-sized “T” sticking out from the wall so you may fine them.]

Anyway, the next day, I returned to Firenze, got my F ticket from the machine, verified a question that I had about my application (I had understood the word, but not the question on the form. It simply said: “Frontiera” or “border,” which I took to mean that they wanted to know which city I had flown into in Italia. In truth, I did not get the impression the postwoman knew the answer either but she nodded as if my guess was as good as hers), bought my health insurance for one year, and paid the application fee. [I had already attached the purchased Marca da Bollo stamp to the correct position on the application.]
I now am legally here, as long as I bring my original documents with my application receipts to the Questura on my appointment date in February. Whew…

This last image was taken during my reward: a stroll around the Duomo (Cathedral) in central Florence, Italy. So happy to be home! [That is probably a bit premature – ha!]

Happy Birthday, Momma!

Book Street Painting Florence Italy

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),
I head to Italy soon and wanted to make a shameless plug for my new book “My Life as a Street Painter in Florence, Italy” and it looks great! There are over 330 images in the book and while I did try to focus on the art, there are images of the artists who create the paintings. I also wrote about various issues that street artists face, including our struggles with taxes and government and the joys of sharing the street with other performers and artists and vendors.

I have had a couple of repeat buyers – several art lovers who bought the book for themselves and after reading it decided to order more for holiday gifts. One of my favorite comments was that I really portrayed what it feels like to work in the street all day making art… the ambiance of it all. [Street painters in Florence, Italy, tend to start around 10 a.m. and work until midnight creating one artwork in chalk and pastel.]

I have some books here in the USA with me that I have no room to take to Italia. They will stay with my mom for a bit, but I would love to be able to ship a copy or two out to you before I go. If you enjoy art and people and travel, or any of those, please consider this book for you or a loved one. Do not forget to include the name(s) you would like me to write into the book signing.
To order, please visit my contact page: http://www.borsheimarts.com/contact.htm and you may pay safely with PayPal.

Thank you so much and Buon Natale.
My next post will most likely come from Italy!

Robert Rauschenberg Darryl Pottorf artist

Cari Amici (dear friends),

I have been sleeping in Robert Rauschenberg’s former bedroom on Captiva Island, Florida, since Sunday night. Even better: I wake to the art of Darryl Pottorf. I wrote about Darryl when I visited him at his solo exhibition titled Links at Brenau University in October 2010. I had met Darryl and his partner Mark in Florence, Italy, in June 2010 with my friends Johnny and Simon on Via Calimala where Johnny and I created large pastel and chalk street paintings. We all clicked right away and have been friends ever since.

I wanted to share with you Darryl’s art because in truth, I had never seen anything like it before and did not know what to make of it. Sometimes I just did not get it. But when I asked Mark if I had permission to write about how I have been “converted” and share images of the beach house that Simon and I are staying in now, Mark responded that it was little surprise that I would be drawn to Darryl’s work since Darryl had been classically trained. Ah, so yes, a possible connection! Darryl Pottorf is wonderful with composition and it is the mathematics of good design that draws me in, for starters. Many times in the past, I have made the point to many emerging artists that classical training teaches you not only nature’s proportions, which sit well with our brains, but also improves the communication between your eye, your brain, and your hands. You will gain the skills to create a mark you intended, not just happen into (all “happy accidents” aside). Then you can make any style of art you wish and communicate skillfully with a visual and tactile language.

Also, there is no substitute for seeing art in a livable space. There is an amazingly enticing large red, black, and brown composition featured on the main floor of Robert Rauschenberg’s former beach house (Bob died on May 12, 2008). One evening Darryl explained to me that this work is all about Darryl and Bob. These two artists were close friends and collaborators for over 25 years. Each part of the composition refers to some memory that Darryl shared with Bob. While I was drawn to the work as I entered the room, learning about the symbolism in the shapes and objects makes it all the more enchanting. For example, the clock on the upper left is set to the exact time that Robert Rauschenberg died. The huge black circle of lace behind the bicycle is from Venice – a personal memory of the two artists who appreciated the handiwork from Italy during their many visits there.
I do not know if I will ever attach large physical objects into my own created wall art as Darryl sometimes does, but I must say that living with this art is so much easier and joyful than I ever imagined. And as I discover more and more of Darryl’s art (we will be working in his studio today), I find myself enjoying the tactile qualities of his various textures and colors and movement.
I hope you enjoy this little peek into another world. I must get back to the beach now . . . what a vacation Darryl and Mark have made possible for me!