Well I am back home after my Italian adventure. It was a lovely trip, and just enough time to take in much of what I wanted to. The weather was beautiful, I got to spend some time in the sun at the beach, do a little shopping and exploration of the historic parts of the towns, and Sumo and I took a hike up into the hills among the terraced olive groves.
The name of the area where I was is Cinque Terre. It is a protected area where for centuries the people there have farmed in a way that works directly in connection with the land. The vineyards and olive groves are cut into the terrain, making use of the natural curves in the land to preserve and collect rainfall.
The views of the ocean are stunning. The color of the water is a bright aquamarine, and the rocky coastlines make a beautiful contrast to the soft color of the sea. I discovered that the area is famous also for the poets who have visited and been inspired by these views. The gulf around La Spezia is called the Gulf of Poets for this reason. The area further inland was favored by Monet, and he made many paintings around the ancient villages there. I did not get to see these, but maybe next time...
For now, here are some of my photos!
About Me
- Angela
- Zurich, Switzerland
- Welcome! I store all my random thoughts, ideas and experiences here for those who are interested or curious about my various life adventures. I love it that you are reading, and it inspires me to keep writing!
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Water and Stone
Today I spent an entire day on the beach. I am in Italy, on the Northern coast. It is not exactly peak season here, so I pretty much had the place to myself.
I had the plan to make some meditative art....inspired by the land artist Andy Goldsworthy. I took stock of my materials by wandering up and down the beach, taking in the color and the shape of the stones. There is a remarkable variation in the color and texture of the stones here. I can't help but stoop and pick up one after the other that catches my eye.
Then I had some ideas. I had the thought first to re-create a piece that was made by Goldsworthy. A stone spiral. I spent the next while wandering up and down the beach looking specifically for grey stones with a white line running through them.
Now, those of you who know me, I am not very good at moving slow. I tend to grab hold of things with a passion and run with it...eyes on the final goal from the very beginning. This was an exercise intended to slow me down. I had to keep reminding myself that there was nothing else to get to today, and if I did nothing but look for stones with a white line running through them, then perfect.
As I looked, my mind became focused and I found that time released its pressure-hold on me and I gave myself to the moment. I found my stones and created my piece.
I then had the idea to try my hand at rock stacking. I wanted to use the different colors to highlight my different stacks, so off I went to look for green, black, red, white and grey stones. When my piles were sufficient, I sat down and watched the waves. I was looking for a place to build. My intention was for the finished piece to be highlighted by the waves and close enough for the stones to remain wet from the water (highlighting their color). There was a sandy ridge that the waves just reached from time to time. I sat and counted how many waves touched this spot over a period of 10 minutes or so. I deemed it sufficient for my needs. I started to build.
What was most surprisingly wonderful about this experience was how impermanent it was. Time and time again a wave would come that was just strong enough to topple the structure. I rebuilt. I started the next piece, a wave comes and topples the first. I rebuilt. Each time I rebuilt I learned more about the way to set the stones so that they were stronger for the next time. At one point, I had 4 towers built.
I started on my fifth and a huge wave came, washing me and all of the stones away like a giant hand. I laughed at this with such a lightness and joy. It was a beautiful thing to see, stones scattered, reclaimed by the forces that had formed them, and my human part, the beauty I had created with these so permanent things existed for a pure moment, then returned to its own form.
I sat back and watched the waves claim the rest of my work, feeling as though in that very moment I had touched something far greater than myself.
I had the plan to make some meditative art....inspired by the land artist Andy Goldsworthy. I took stock of my materials by wandering up and down the beach, taking in the color and the shape of the stones. There is a remarkable variation in the color and texture of the stones here. I can't help but stoop and pick up one after the other that catches my eye.
Now, those of you who know me, I am not very good at moving slow. I tend to grab hold of things with a passion and run with it...eyes on the final goal from the very beginning. This was an exercise intended to slow me down. I had to keep reminding myself that there was nothing else to get to today, and if I did nothing but look for stones with a white line running through them, then perfect.
As I looked, my mind became focused and I found that time released its pressure-hold on me and I gave myself to the moment. I found my stones and created my piece.
I then had the idea to try my hand at rock stacking. I wanted to use the different colors to highlight my different stacks, so off I went to look for green, black, red, white and grey stones. When my piles were sufficient, I sat down and watched the waves. I was looking for a place to build. My intention was for the finished piece to be highlighted by the waves and close enough for the stones to remain wet from the water (highlighting their color). There was a sandy ridge that the waves just reached from time to time. I sat and counted how many waves touched this spot over a period of 10 minutes or so. I deemed it sufficient for my needs. I started to build.
What was most surprisingly wonderful about this experience was how impermanent it was. Time and time again a wave would come that was just strong enough to topple the structure. I rebuilt. I started the next piece, a wave comes and topples the first. I rebuilt. Each time I rebuilt I learned more about the way to set the stones so that they were stronger for the next time. At one point, I had 4 towers built.
I started on my fifth and a huge wave came, washing me and all of the stones away like a giant hand. I laughed at this with such a lightness and joy. It was a beautiful thing to see, stones scattered, reclaimed by the forces that had formed them, and my human part, the beauty I had created with these so permanent things existed for a pure moment, then returned to its own form.
I sat back and watched the waves claim the rest of my work, feeling as though in that very moment I had touched something far greater than myself.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)