This guy masterfully wields two bicycles around the Duomo.
It is a day reminiscent of Camus. A place of Mersault.At one point I find myself alone, and I have this feeling like nothing has changed here for decades. It is a very Assasin’s Creed type of feeling. Perhaps I am just here to complete some sort of familial mission upon which my great-grandfather first embarked.But then I am back to tourist mode.The private beaches are beautiful but crowded. The public beach is not much better. I swim in my underpants, not having come prepared with swim trunks.
In Florence’s Mercato San Lorenzo, next to the Medici chapel. A skilled artisan decorates a kitchen apron for me with a foot-powered sewing machine of sorts. He says he is a born-and-bred Fiorentino.
The man’s work mesmerizes me. Years of practice make themselves apparent in his dexterous hands. I gawk as he decorates four or five other garments before I am compelled to commission one myself.
Only about 35 blog-worthy Florence photos left to process.
In Paris I became increasingly concerned with capturing motion in my stills. This was the night I re-kindled that spirit in Florence.
Bars in Italy are not like bars in America. This is one of the first things one learns in one’s quest to feel less touristy. Ordering a “caffe” will yield the equivalent of a concentrated American espresso, so if you want a more diluted coffee drink, you must order a “caffe latte.”Mendicant street artists make blown-up sidewalk images of 15th century Florentine artwork. People stop and stare, offering a few euro here and there.
Are you starting to see the duality here? Between our obnoxiously sophomoric, loud, fratty American culture, and the deep-seated profundity ubiquitously apparent on the other side of the world?
The gentlemen of Sigma Pi saw my time lapse for Pi Kappa Alpha from earlier this week, and requested their own. Fortunately they were throwing a highlighter party that same night (last night). Nick Schmidt helped me get on the awning outside of the kitchen and plug in my camera next to the blender. Unfortunately the awning rocked and rattled quite a bit over the course of the time lapse. There were only four small blacklights illuminating this whole crowd! The party was disbanded by cops after about an hour and a half of straight drunken glowy chaos. Note the police flashlights at the very end.