Siena is a Tuscan city, near-by Florence. During the late Middle Ages fought with Florence over the territories and power. Eventually Florence won (of course!) and incorporated Siena into its administration. Tho there was one significant battle of 1260, Battle of Montaperti, from which Sienese came out victorious. In Siena they still talk about it.

Florentines paid ransom for captured Florentine war prisoners, and the money were suppose to go to the war reparations in Siena, but Sienese decided to use a big chunk of that money for embellishing and enlarging their Cathedral instead…blah-de-blah, long story short: Florentines - jealous that someone else has got a bigger Cathedral (began to enlarge their own). Sienese – very happy to have a magnificent Cathedral with a handsome façade by Giovanni Pisano, full of sculptures.

Umm, a bit too much sculpture I’d say.

I imagine a movie shot where at the sunset the creatures on the façade of the Cathedral come alive and fly, crawl, and drop out of the Cathedral’s wall before all hell breaks loose.

According to his diary, Richard Wagner, a famous conductor and composer of 20th century, said that the sight of the Cathedral made him cry: “the greatest emotion I ever felt in front of a building”. Well, that’s great, but Wagner also composed a cycle of songs called “Kindertotemlieder” (songs of the dead children), which he thought was beautiful. Tragically beautiful?

But yes, Sienese did achieve magnificence with the Cathedral, even if there are too many statues for my liking.

Another cool thing I learned about Siena is that every summer a horse race takes place in one of the squares (circle in this case), Piazza del Campo. The race itself is about 1.5 minutes long, but the preparations for it are grandeur. This is a tradition kept from the Medieval times. Almost 20 Sienese districts, each with its own mascot, compete in the race.  

Living in a place full of creepy yet magnificent statues, Medieval horse racings, and almost no cars (residents have to purchase expensive permits to drive in the city) seems surreal.  

@2 months ago
@2 months ago
#Siena #Italy #Laundry 
[Flash 10 is required to watch video]

Me and the dog. He wouldn’t stop crying for what felt like eternity.

angelaissomewhere:

Here’s a video of Whiskey and Elizabeth. Whiskey has been crying all day for his mommy and its killing us >___<

@3 months ago with 2 notes

Antarctica. Polar bears would like it.

This is a complaining entry. But really, when is it not? I would just like to ask where the pleasant Tuscan weather is. Where is it at?

Woolen socks, flannel pants, and a puffy sweater (that makes one look like a peasant) is not my ultimate dream of sleeping wear. I don’t know what you prefer to sleep in, but wrapped up as an eskimo would not be my first choice. If I had a choice that is.

As the mesmerizing effect of being in a European country starts to wear off a bit, there are certainly things that get under my skin. Quite literally. The cold gets under my skin and into my bones. I can honestly say I despise the Italian 12-hour-heat policy (and quiet hours after 11pm and closed stores on Sundays and don’t even get me started on the crosswalks, but that’s for another entry). Even with the heat on, it’s no Caribbean paradise. Changing in the mornings is painful.

I don’t remember how warm sunbeams feel like. Here sun’s sole objective is to blind you. “Aren’t you Russian? Aren’t you used to the cold?” some ask. Umm, no. Eastern Europeans do not have a thick cold-resistant skin that keeps them warm. “Man up” others say. Well, you man up. Siberia can take its winds back and I am going to keep on hugging the 5-feet-tall radiator in our bathroom for as long as I can (12 hours max a day that is) until the warm Tuscan weather decides to show up.

Italy, stop it. I don’t want to get severe weather alerts in my inbox no more. Tho I do wonder what it would feel like to make a snowman in the middle of Coliseum.

@3 months ago
La mia casa è la tua casa. Go home to this every day.

La mia casa è la tua casa. Go home to this every day.

@3 months ago
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

Last year I got a chance to work with incredible musicians, like Davis Inghram, creating this soundtrack. Sharing this with you all now. In loving memory of Davis.

@2 months ago with 10 plays

Importance of fashion

Now that it got a bit warmer I can talk about other things besides my bones braking from the cold. Let’s talk laundry.

I think I’ve discovered the hidden reason behind why people obsess over fashion in Italy. Ready? Okay, here it goes. It’s simple. Italians buy beautiful cloths because they don’t want to be embarrassed hanging it outside their windows. Who would want to see a pair of monstrous old pair of mom’s jeans hanging right above the beautiful Venice canals? Tho how Venice canals and sewage system are connected is a different story.

After talking to my buddies who also live in home stays in Florence I’ve learned that it’s a common practice for the host family to volunteer to do your laundry. Not sure whether it’s the extent of their warm hospitality or their fear of careless young foreigners breaking the fragile pieces of machinery that the Italian washers are.

Some would say I am lucky to have my laundry done for me. It IS nice not worrying about fitting the laundry time into my schedule and not waiting until there is no more clean socks left. However, I don’t necessarily feel so good about others washing my underwear. It’d be nice to have the option to do laundry myself.

In any case, I have no say in the matter. Every Friday my laundry bag disappears and the clean folded cloths appear couple days later. Since I’ve actually never seen anybody carry my laundry in or out of my room I get to imagine little elves (from the fairy tales by Grimm Brothers) taking my cloths and doing their lil cleaning magic. Don’t hate, they’re adorable.

I gotta say tho, I did wonder for a while why it took three, four, or even five days to get the laundry back. Once I had to take a shower with a lil hand towel since I haven’t gotten my big towel in time. That was certainly an inconvenience, but asking for another towel would’ve involved using too many hand gestures with my host mother.

 

@3 months ago

More Florentine Statues? What a surprise.

@3 months ago
River Arno. Florence.

River Arno. Florence.

@3 months ago
@3 months ago