Here my blab for the day. Nothing profound. Just leading my solitary life in Florence. The day began with rain and ended with sun, which is forecast for my remaining days in Italy. Tomorrow I’ll climb the Duomo and maybe go to Fiesole. Saturday I thinking of a day trip to Cinque Terra. If I don’t go this trip, I may never get there. My reticence is that it will not be a day of solitude since I’ll be on a tour.
Today I visited the Fra Angelico frescoes in the monks cells at the Convent of San Marco, did some Christmas shopping, ate at the central market, visited Santa Maria Novella, and hear an organist practicing in the Chiesa di Santi Apostoli. Great day and I haven’t even had dinner.

I had a unique moment of solitude at the Uffizi today. With my Amici Degli Uffizi card I was the first one into the museum and since I knew the way, I headed up the three flights of stairs to the floor where the most beautiful collection of Italian Renaissance paintings in the world begins. For five minutes I was alone with Cimabue, Duccio, and Giotto in the Sala del Trecento. Others soon joined me in the Sienese room and a half hour later the tours had caught up.  Solitude, however,  continued as went on my way at my own pace, all by myself.

As I wander about Florence and take photographs of art and artists, I continue to consider an array of question. Here are some of today’s. Is the creative urge necessary for us to create meaning in our lives? Without creativity do we become listless? Is creating something part of the human condition that makes us uniquely human? All animals procreate, but are we humans guided to create a physical item beyond ourselves?
My apologies for not making much sense of this; writing helps me put my thoughts into language, and I’m just not there yet. Please consider all my blogs as rough drafts.
With that disclaimer, I write on, and since Florence is undisputedly the leather capital of the world, leather is a reasonable place to start. Where does creativity and meaning lie for the many involved in the industry? Clearly it provides employment—mass production of wallets, belts, boxes, shoes and all kinds of clothing, as well as selling in stores and at outdoor markets .
There are still schools to train people in the art of leatherwork. The Scuola del Cuoio is affiliated with the Church of Santa Croce. Yesterday I saw men and women individually cutting, sewing, and embossing on individual pieces of leather. Were they artists or craftsmen? Were they creating new designs or only putting an individual touch onto the work in front of them? Were they satisfied that they were making beautiful things for others?
Where were their hearts as they worked? Maybe there is an answer there.

I have to blurt a little about my internet dilemma. At the apartment the service is sporadic. Morning is better and sometimes I can load pictures onto my blogs. Other times, I spin and spin and nothing happens. In the evening I can’t get on at all. Blah, blah, blah.
Enough about that. There are other places around the city where I can gain access. Besides, no one ever wants to hear about another’s computer problem, except the geniuses at the Apple store.
Speaking of Apple stores, there is a huge one under the portico next to the Post Office adjacent to the Piazza della Republica. It wasn’t there back in April but now it is open and filled with customers looking at iPhones, IPads, and computers. If I had a computer problem, I would be all set.
Back to the point of this blog. Yes, internet problems do interfere with simplicity. But as with many problems, I can choose, once again, to let go of all the crap that gets in the way of how I want to live. In the big scheme of things this is NOT a problem. Just walking around this beautiful city, taking pictures to post, I come across men, primarily African, trying to sell pictures, scarves, little souvenirs, those selfie phone holders, etc.. Where do these men live? What is their future? (Out of respect for these men, I do not photograph them.)
So, I tell myself, “Let go of your internet problem, Bobs. Your blog readers have places to live and choices for their futures. And so do you.”

Thank goodness my friend Karen (www.Americaninitaly.com) emailed me that the daylight savings time change was happening this weekend in Europe. I would have been perplexed all day, wondering why churches weren’t open on time, why it was dark so early, and why my phone and computer weren’t in sync. I’m very grateful for this extra hour. I’ve been so busy here!
“Busy doing what?” you ask.
“Busy wandering about and doing whatever moves me at the moment.”
There are very few times in life when we can enjoy being on automatic pilot. I had that at the cottage by the sea, and I have it now in Florence. T
Twelve days to do whatever I want, whenever I want! Yesterday I planned to climb the Duomo, but I didn’t. Today I considered going to Fiesole, but so far I haven’t headed that way. In fact I walked in the opposite direction of the Fiesole bus, crossing the Arno to Piazza Santa Spirito to a favorite bar with the little room where I often write and have my first cappuccino of the day. It’s the room with the rows of children’s art work using the church as template for their creations. I’m here right now, writing and wondering where I’ll go when I decide to get up and move.
I assume that people who like silence, solitude and simplicity long for a day, week or even month to live on a carefree whim. I am very grateful for this incredible opportunity that solitary travel has placed before me. It is harder to do when I’m home with obligations and husband and family, but I have faith that there is a little way that I can take a day to turn off my planning mind, and see where I go. How about a day a week living in the mystery.
 

Sono arrivata. I’ve been in Florence twenty-four hours. It took me a while to settle in but last night’s delicious meal of mixed crostini, chicken with truffle sauce and roasted rosemary potatoes, a twelve hour sleep, two cappuccino this morning, and my favorite mixed vegetables at Ciro and Sons Ristorante at noon has helped ground me. It took a while this time to settle into why I was here for the umpteenth solitary visit. In the recent past I was writing the book about Mom, but with “Very Grateful” published, I found myself wanting a project, and yet not finding one. Then this morning on my wander about the city, I started taking pictures.
    “Oh no,” you say, “More of the same?”
    “Oh yes,” I say, “More but always different, for this is a new moment, a new view of this miraculous city.”
      I realize that these blog posts have become part of my purpose: to inspire, affirm, and encourage people who long for solitude, silence and simplicity and who sometimes like to be alone. But why this longing? What do we long for? We long for meaning and purpose in our lives. Elizabeth Gilbert, in her new book “Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear,” frames this meaning as a creative desire that every human being has. If we don’t tap into it we open ourselves to depression and no reason to live. I may be over-simplifying this, but I know I’m onto something.
       While I’m here in Florence for the next twelve days I plan to blog, primarily with pictures, about creativity I see happening around Florence. Not only through artifacts of long ago, but the through the work of contemporary artists out there on the streets: painters, sculptors, multi-media artists, textile artists, architects, photographers, culinary artists, writers, horticulturalists, athletes. There are also artists who create through the spoken word: ministers, professors, teachers. And what about animal lovers, or those doing all they can to save this beautiful earth. Clearly they are creative artists as well. My startup list expands as I write. I venture to say that the common denominator is that they all have something to share.
      Maybe you are one of these artists, maybe you express your creativity another way. We all have something we do (or want to do) that makes our life purposeful?
 

Busy getting ready to fly to Italy tomorrow. Today, however, I took time quickly to take photos of the paintings and drawings of Florence (plus a few others) here in the Angel Room. In a few days I'll be posting the real thing. Very grateful.

Silence, solitude and simplicity will be mine when I step onto the bus to the airport on Wednesday and begin my travel to Italy. Oh, getting there won’t really be silent, solitary or simple, but I’ll be on my own in my own little world. That’s what I long for every so often, a sabbatical from my life in community.
      We usually think of sabbatical as something for ministers or college professors. But why not for everyone? Everyone who wants one, and that probably includes everyone. Therefore, I put this idea out there for everyone. Claim a sabbatical to a favorite space for a substantial amount of time. Maybe it is to a spot in the woods or the park, or far away from home, or somewhere in between. Maybe it’s for an hour or an afternoon, or for two weeks, which is the time I’m taking. Happy sabbatical.

“It’s beautiful.” Make the comment about fall foliage in New England and everyone agrees. Have you ever found someone who didn’t? I bet not. During my walks this past week I’ve been thinking about beauty and the idea that there is universal agreement that sun on the turning leaves is beautiful. 100%. Nobody neutral. There are other: sunrises and sunsets; sun on mountains. All from nature, all with sun. All exuding silence, solitude and simplicity.
Undisputed beauty generates from beyond the senses, beyond what my eyes see and what my mind can choose. It comes from deep inside where God (Truth, Soul, the Ineffable, our core, our essence, the Holy) is. Call it what you will, that place and part of us beyond the senses and intellect where the Good resides.

Here’s my blurt for today. I’m feeling a pall, which is something I usually don’t experience. It’s a beautiful day. I am very grateful for family and friends, my health and my life. I’m going to see my two sisters and brother next weekend, something that doesn’t happen often since my brother lives in Portland, Oregon. Then I’m off to Italy by myself for two glorious weeks of solitude. So much to be grateful for, and I am.
I’m usually a half full kind of person, but sadness looms when we lose a long-time very good friend. I’m just being with it and being grateful for the friendship and good times.