A Tiny Cat of Rome

This was gruesome--fighting over a ham sandwich

with one of the tiny cats of Rome, he leaped

on my arm and half hung on to the food and half

hung on to my shirt and coat. i tore it apart

and let him have his portion, I think I lifted him

down, sandwich and all, on the sidewalk and sat

with my own sandwich beside him, maybe I petted

his bony head and felt him shiver. (rest of poem) from Another Insane Devotion, Gerald Stern

So you couldn't have found something pretty to write about a pretty Roman gatto? No, I'm feeling devilish tonight. Besides, I love this poem by Gerald Stern. (He was born in Pittsburgh, by the way.)

Thank you so much to Julie of Being Ruby for sending me a new version of the Coliseum Cat. She included an earlier version in a package last autumn, along with a beautiful handbag that I won on her blog. Julie publishes beautiful photographs of her travels & of her Sydney. This print sits patiently with many other things-I-love, ready to be placed just-so on a wall above the desk. If, when, if, when the wall is painted. Soon, soon. So I am told.

I love the nerve of this cat but I worry about him (or her), too. Don't blame the big cats for the hideous goings on at the Coliseum. Man invented it. Cats kill to eat, not to entertain themselves & others.

[photograph by Julie Newcombe/Being Ruby/all rights reserved]

At the Market

How easily happiness begins by

dicing onions. A lump of sweet butter

slithers and swirls across the floor

of the sauté pan, especially if its

errant path crosses a tiny slick

of olive oil. Then a tumble of onions...-William Matthews

The first stanza of Onions. Read it, do. Then, if like me you have a lot of lentils & rice (all kinds) on hand, it's hard to beat Marcella Hazan's Zuppa di lenticchie. The lentil love link is to Champaign Taste, an excellent food blog & since Lisa typed it out all pretty, why do it over? If you're a vegetarian, leave out the pancetta & use water or vegetable broth. If you're vegan, leave out the parmesan, too. No problem. But I beg you--spend the extra money on San Marzano tomatoes. Yes, it really does make a difference.

The photograph is by fave Giampaolo Macorig who was in a Roman market recently. Look at all those rices, grains, & legumes. It's going to rain cats & dogs here soon...so off to make soup.

ciao

Once Upon a Time, a St. David's Day in Italy

My favorite St. David's Day (March 1) memory is a daffodil quest in southern Italy. I was visiting friends for a few weeks, near Naples. One of this delightful duo was shy about his southern accent & still-tentative English. My southern dialect--forget it; "regular Italian" - it kept slipping into French. Our Italian-speaking link was doing something important --foraging for dinner ingredients. Me? Of course, I was obsessed with flowers & on this weekend, daffodils. I forgot the Italian word, if I ever knew it. Finally after squeaking out 'spring, 'yellow,' & I don't remember what else in Italian, S. lit up & said, "trombone?" I, being an ass, said,"No, no. Trombone? What? No that's an instrument in inglese." Finally, slow me, oh. Daffodils. They are trumpet-shaped--ah.

The sight of an older man pretend-playing a horn instrument & a younger, somewhat exasperated English-speaking woman performing the universal hand-to-head circling motion amused a bunch of bored children with no immediate interests except a Saturday gelato. We made a little bow to the kids, & slunk away. After the forager returned, she explained what was what (after laughing a bit too much--ahem), & S. became obsessed with the idea that I should have trombone. I was embarrassed that I had not only called him crazy in a public market, but now I had given him a new mission. He's one of those lovely people around whom one should be careful to express any wish that he could possibly (& maybe not even possibly) fulfill.

Later that evening, as I fussed with the sitting room brazier, tossing in clementine peels to achieve the most fragrant scent, I looked up & there he was in the doorway, holding a gigantic bunch of the longest-stemmed daffodils I'd ever seen. Before or since. I don't know where or when he got them that day, but being an Italian he possessed a sense of the dramatic moment & thus waited for a post-dinner flourish.

Here are some lovely links to a celebration of St. David's Day weekend in Rome (yes, yes), the end of which involves daffodil distribution. Also, here is a link to a current National Museum of Wales exhibit: Italian Memories in Wales.

cariad & ciao

[photograph of Sophia Loren, I should look so good, via If It's Hip, It's Here; Scented Alley in Naples by golden puppy via flickr]

Week's End - Ode to Rome

John Keats died in Rome on 23 February 1821. I may not post next week but could not let the occasion pass without comment. As reported previously, I have embarrassed at least one relative in the Keats-Shelley House & at the Protestant cemetery. I feel less an idiot upon reading that no less a personage than Oscar Wilde prostrated himself for 25 minutes at the grave. (I'm making my way--at last--through Andrew Motion's biography of Keats.)

Giampaolo Macorig's beautiful photograph would have been Keats's view as he walked on the Pincio those last few months. The image of his signature is from the Keats-Shelley House & the organization's website is looking quite spiffy these days; do take a virtual visit. It's very much a destination for writers (& others) living in & visiting Rome. The story of the acquisition of the house is one of cooperation among Anglophones in Rome. (For once. Ahem.)

And finally, here is a sweet article I just saw in the Observer by a reporter who went to Rome with his girlfriend--in search of Romance (& Keats). It has a much happier ending than that of John & Fanny.

Update: Thursday, 25 Feb. (Read in whiny voice.) If we don't lose power (again!), I'll be back next week. Maybe Saturday.

There's No Place Like Rome

...ever. Especially at Christmastime. Merry Christmas especially to SBL in Darfur, Sudan, AB in Uganda, CLS in Afghanistan. [photographs by Enzo D. & the wonderful & generous Giampaolo Macorig via flickr]

Week's End - To Autumn

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?/ Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,

--John Keats, complete poem...

Oh no, another Keats post? You bet. Thank you, Jane Campion, for your new film Bright Star. I heard high school students talking this afternoon & the word 'Keats' floated through the air between them. This wasn't in a school building.

Keats arrived in Rome (via Naples) 21 October 1820; the ship was quarantined & he did not arrive in Rome until 15 November. Though he did not write poetry in what were to be his last months, he wrote one letter, to his friend Charles Brown. It's heartbreaking, especially the last two lines. "...I can scarcely bid you good bye even in a letter. I always made an awkward bow."

The photographs are from the Keats-Shelley House near the Spanish Steps; the salon & Keats' bedroom. In these very rooms & at the Protestant Cemetery, I have disgraced myself several times with squeaky sniffs. Once, I embarrassed a younger sister & have not yet been forgiven. Ever after, I have visited alone.

A lovely weekend to all. (Sniff.)

Lungo Tevere by Giampaolo Macorig via flickr; Keats-Shelley House photographs by frattaglia via flickr; Protestant Cemetery, Keats' grave by Piero Montesacro via wikimedia commons.

Frames of Rome

Day full of misplaced papers & yelling people (not me)...just oh, man. But thinking of Roman Holiday & Giampaolo's shot from Roma--huge help. GM calls this 'Frames of Rome' & so will I. The large format is here, he's really worth the trip to flickr, especially if you're a painter or a lover of color (or Rome)...[Frames of Rome/Giampalo Macorig]

buona notte

Another Roman storm approaches...

Museo della terme, Roma. Fun making it look like it felt--humid, electric expectation, yellow, thrilling (saturation, tint, & who knows what else I did to this, can't remember, doesn't matter...) Leaving in the clickability feature, whatever feedburner says. It's weirder in larger size. ciao.

Villa Giulia in Sepia

...an October storm was on its way. Villa Giulia, Etruscan museum, Rome. (for later)

When I Paint My Masterpiece

Oh, the streets of Rome are filled with rubble,
Ancient footprints are everywhere.
You can almost think that you're seein' double
On a cold, dark night on the Spanish Stairs...


...Someday, everything is gonna be diff'rent
When I paint my masterpiece.

Happy birthday, Bobby.

full lyric, here

[vintage postcard image by D Sharon Pruitt/pinksherbert photography/for Creative Commons Use by poor people like, uh, nonprofits; Bob credit, here; random personal photographs in collage; someday, I'll find the flattering ones. Must be some sort of undermining thing.]

American Girl in Rome, 1951

So many people have sent a copy of this card/postcard over the last, maybe, 20 years; I've lost count. "It reminded me of you." Maybe because a copy hangs in the apartment. Except some people haven't seen it. I hope I don't look this fearful. I think I read that it was staged. It's a familiar scenario, though, I'm sorry to admit.

(via scan of postcard that arrived today. It's Ruth Orkin's famous photo. The card is by Graphique de France. I have two volumes of Orkin's work but too lazy to go pull them out to get publisher. Will do later.)

UPDATE - 23 May 2009. Well, don't I feel an idiot. Talented Tina Tarnoff of Thouht Patterns has a wonderful Ruth Orkin post, here. The photographs are from a series taken in Florence. I ought to know that since: 1) I walk past a superlarge print of the above every day--it says Italy, not Rome; 2) I have Ruth Orkin photograph books. Apparently, I substitute "Rome" for "Florence" sub- or unconsciously. Visit Tina, she's got the real deal. I leave the title here, as it is.

Blue Roma, Fontana di Trevi

I used this on the other blog & its blue filter looks ghastly against the yellow background. (I really did not think that through back in May.) I wanted to see Giampaolo's photograph against a white background. I can feel myself pulled to vintage Italian film photos. The Roman obsession is kicking up. We'll see. I've a word-collage list (I use it to write) linking imagined photos/illustrations that I shall covet if I ever find them. Greedy, I am. Buena notte, belle.

Week's End - Wings of Desire, Roma

Have an inspiring & slightly spooky (in a good way) weekend.

Orange Window

Oh so beautiful orange (& the whole spectrum). From Rome & Marrakesh. (top photo of Roman window by Giampaolo Macorig & Marrakesh photos by only alice.) ciao.

Week's End - Along the Tevere

Rome is my favorite city & I miss it terribly. Giampaolo Macorig captures a certain moment beautifully. Have a lovely weekend. ciao, baci...