i have been living in other people's houses, for almost a year now.
this is the first afternoon, where i have felt alone, and a little -- maybe, magari -- at peace.
i sit in Marilee's little balcony, surrounded by what she calls her Darwinian garden ("i don't keep plants that can't tough it out with the rest of them..."), i work my way through yet another perfect pizza bianca from La Zozzona (otherwise known as The Surprise Place -- hello you former FAOSTAT folk...), and i work my way through the first full chapter of Nicole Krauss's The History of Love.
a last-minute lunch date becomes a last-minute cancellation. and so -- suddenly -- the day has a wider horizon: i can do anything, and -- after that -- i can do anything else.
there is -- of course -- much that "has" to be done: a new course proposal, two lectures this week, mid-term corrections to review, a syllabus to revise, and Internet Explorer content to be re-written. but with two hours of unexpected alone-time, you can actually indulge in the luxury of watching the signora in the red coat, as she walks her dachsund down the street. you can enjoy the young Romano who palms the wheel as he turns out of his parallel parking spot, perfectly. you can wonder if there's anyone you'd rather be with, right now, other than yourself.
[nightingaleshiraz] [?]
[Via Baccio Pontelli, Roma]
[marted́ 06 novembre 2007 ore 12:55:47] [¶]
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