Sicily is under my feet and in my mouth and filling my ears. I woke up in an empty farm house speaking english in my dreams, after staying up trying to learn Italian. The patience of people rocks my world. My "often" is as convuluted as your "spesso".
Even the birds speak Italian, faster than American birds. Is it lonely? I found a copy of the backstreet boys' "show the meaning of being lonely" when i was trying to get the radio to play. ick. am reading "crying of lot 49"..succeeded in getting the jazz station. now the only english i hear is Louis Armstrong, and the rest is slow, giggly half-english, half-italian pantomimes of conversations. I will walk back to Villa de Bosco soon, along skinny streets- steep cobbled 10 ft wide streets between old apartment buildings with laundry hanging and old men walking slowly and kids smoking cigarettes. Sicily is trashy and classy. Ancient monuments and neon graffitti. (my favorite has been i (heart) hip hop). Beautiful sicilian men and women with bright bright make up. At night I am alone the only human for kilometers and kilometers (no miles here, kiddo). it is beyond tranquil. it is calmer than a vicodine enema. the thing i am facing is me. the only obstacle, as always between self and bliss, is self. is it cliche?
"where ever you go, there you are".
by the way, if you didn't know, your comments make me wriggle with joy. yup.
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hi lucy it's eric i just found your blog because shuge posted it on the forum and i just wanted to say i'm glad you're having a good time and don't be lonely because everyone here is thinking of how much they miss you and things are going well with anti-civ and the shows have been magical and i hope the rest of your trip is as amazing as run on sentences.
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