I Love School!

Today was very cold in Florence. As I was walking to and from my classes today, bundled up in my black coat that I wear everyday, I was looking around wondering how I was so blessed to be given a semester to live in Florence. Although my fingers were numb from carrying my sketchpad, I could not have imagined a place that I would rather be at that moment than exactly where I was. I think I could live here. Being in Florence has fulfilled so many of my dreams as well as revive other ambitions that I have laid aside over the past few years.

One of my favorite things to do here is go running. It is one of my favorite things to do almost anywhere but running in Florence has been one of the little joys in my life. It is such a neat way to see the city. My roommate Meg and I found that Florence has a half marathon in April, and so we decided to try to train for it. I always say I am going to train for one and then never actually do, so we will see if I actually follow through. It is funny running in a city though. First of all I do not think many Italians work out, so when I come out in my Nike shorts and Newbalace shoes I get so many looks. Meg and I have found some really cool running trails along the river and up the side of this mountain but to get to those places I have to run through the city area. I am positive I look so stupid. Meg and I laugh because many times we have to pass tour groups. It is so awkward because they take up the whole sidewalk. They are all foreign people, taking pictures and we run strait through their group. It is such a weird experience for me because I am so use to just running the Bear Trail at Baylor or trails at Cameron Park.

I have turned part vegetarian in my time here in Italy. First of all their food is so good, but it is mostly breads and pastas. If I eat at out, I will not order anything with meat because their vegetables are so fresh and low priced and their bread and cheese is absolutely divine. I love Balsamic Vinegar! I saturate my bread in it, um… so good! Another reason, I have had trouble eating meat is because I had a bad meat experience. During my first week here I thought it would be fun to eat a Panini from a street vendor. The only people eating at this stand were men. I should have taken that as my first warning sign. I just ordered what everyone else was getting. It was this orange meat. It was so gross but I did not want to waste money so I ate it. It was so gross, please let me repeat it was not good. Recently I found out that I had eaten the inside of a cow stomach. I was eating a cow’s stomach lining! O this is funny too. The other day for my shoe design class we went to observe this woman who makes her own shoes and she had made this designer high heel shoe. It was obviously not made out of leather because it had an interesting orange color and an unusual texture. Then she said it was made out of the same thing I had eaten! I wanted to throw up looking at the shoe.

I love my classes. I am taking an Advanced Painting class, a Beginning Italian course, a Art History course, an Advanced Printmaking, and a Shoe Design course. At first I felt extremely intimidated in my advance studio courses because on the first day of class there was a placement test and then I had to present my portfolio. First of all, I have never needed a portfolio and never taken photos of my work, so when all my classmates whipped out their flash drives with their portfolios I felt completely out of place. For my painting class there was a drawing, painting, and art history test. I have not drawn a picture or painted in six months and my knowledge of art history is very limited, so it is easy to imagine how intimidated I felt. Then in my printmaking course I had to do a dry etch test, except for I had no idea what a dry etch was. So I had to talk with my teachers and they had to speak with the dean of the art department, but I am still in the classes. I am really enjoying them now. I have learned so much already. I love my homework because it is usually to write a paper about art, to paint a picture, to sketch ideas, to prepare printing plates, or design shoes. I love school.

I love it so much I want to quickly describe each of my classes. First of all, I would like to talk about my shoe design course. It is incredible. In one of my art education classes at Baylor, I was suppose to come up with an unit of lesson plans that I could teach in a high school level classroom. I choose to do a unit on wearable art. I ended up becoming so interested in shoes that I tried to make my own shoes. If you where my friend during this point in my life, you would know how hard I tried to make shoes. I went to talk to cobblers, researched online, cut up basketballs, and dug tires out of the rivers all in effort to make shoes. I was completely unsuccessful. Being in this class has opened a door to opportunities. In the class we do not actually make shoes but I have learned so much about the components of the shoes and about their designs. My mind is going crazy with the ideas of shoes I want to design. This week my class went to observe this lady who makes homemade shoes. Creating shoes is such a complicated and intricate art. The United States has completely lost this art. The shoes in the United States are manufactured and the funniest part is that they are manufactured to look handmade. This lady would make a pair of shoes that would last a person a lifetime if the owners took proper care of them. She sizes each shoes to fit her costumer. I asked her if I could come back while she was working to watch and learn from her. I took her business card and I need to work up the courage to call her and stop by her shop. Next week my class is visiting a leather factory and leather market, which should be interesting. A few blocks away from our school is a shoe museum and our homework this week is to go to the museum and sketch some shoe designs. I am really enjoying learning about shoes and I love the hands on learning experience. Why is school not normally like this?



This is a picture of a last that we put masking tape around to create a pattern for a shoe. The last is what a shoe is made around to give it the correct shape.

Then I want to tell you about my Printmaking course. First of all, the Baylor art department would only approve an advanced printmaking course to count for my major. So when I show up for this class with no previous knowledge about printmaking I looked so foolish being in advanced. Baylor’s art department constantly frustrates me with their inflexibility but my teacher here has been kind enough to change the advance course curriculum so I can still get credit. Pretty much I just have to do twice the amount of assignments as the peers in my class. But I have really enjoyed have extra assignments and I enjoy being on my own schedule. I also enjoy being different than everyone else in my class. The printmaking studio where the class is taught is across the River from where I live. I love everything across the river because it has more locals and less tourist attractions. The studio is made out of an old barn. The barn use to be owned by a rich family but was turned into a printing studio right soon after the war here. It is still very obvious that it is a barn, with the wooden stalls with the horses’ names still on them. We share the studio with another school. The students that attend the other school go there everyday for a year to learn the skills and talents of printmaking. I love walking by their area because their work is so neat. They also seem so cool smoking in the courtyards with their artsy Italian style. This studio was opened by the first printmaker in Italy. I love just being there because everything is old and dirty. After class my hands are black with ink for a couple of days. O and one of my favorite parts about this place is the door. It has this huge door with a smaller hobbit door in it. We usually use the hobbit door, which makes me feel like I am in Lord of the Rings. Really great.

Here are a few pictures from the printing studio:








In my Painting class, we are working on paintings with a circle theme. An upscale restaurant, that is associated with the school, wants us to paint circle themed pictures to be hung in their gallery. The art director for the restaurant chooses pieces from all the art classes to display. I am trying to come up with a good idea for a circle themed painting but I am struggling to come up with one good enough. It would be such a neat opportunity to have my art displayed in a restaurant in Italy, but I do not know if my work will be good enough to be chosen. I guess I will just have to wait see.

My Italian class is even enjoyable. My teacher is crazy. He dresses like an Italian with funky shoes and glasses. He always plays music in the classroom and runs around the room. He makes learning a language a fun experience where it is okay to pronounce things wrong and it is okay to mess up. I am not very good and I have been practicing Rosetta Stone on Lizard’s computer. I was also given the name of this Italian woman who wants to practice her English and we are going to start meeting on Monday’s to work on speaking to each other. I hope it works out.

Then I am also in an Art History class. This week we toured Santa Croce, which is the beautiful church next to our apartment. During the tour I realized that Michelangelo and Galileo are buried there. Who would have known that I lived next to their graves? Art History is so much more interesting when you are in the midst of it.

I love living here!

I need a new umbrella...

This past weekend, we got to visit a town called Bologna. It was such a relaxing, eventful, and different experience. I still don’t know my exact feelings on this topic, but we had a great time! We stayed at a new, reasonably priced hotel just outside the city limits. Besides the long bus rides to the city, I’d say our accommodation was perfect. Speaking of bus rides, I think our group of five (Mary Beth, Meg, Tiffany, Coleen and I) made a rather large impression on the Bologna Bus drivers. We probably should send them a thank-you card.

I want to share a few stories with you guys. I’ll start off with our first bus ride to the hotel. Mistake #1: After arriving in Bologna, we boarded Bus 25 headed in the wrong direction and road for almost an hour. Mistake #2: After getting off the wrong Bus 25, boarding the right Bus 25, we quickly grew impatient and got off the bus at a stop by the fountain. It was obviously not the right one, and the bus driver honked for us to get back on so he could continue his route. Mistake #3: After riding for another half-hour, we all were in deep discussion (about men or something) and one of the passengers started yelling in jumbled English, “you need that bus!” Mistake #4: After we changed buses, we got off one stop too early and walked to where the bus was parked—the last stop on the bus route; the stop for our hotel. Yes, we were pretty far out there, but, it shouldn’t have taken us 2.5 hours to get there.

For our second bus adventure, I’d like to quote a few passages written in one of our roommates travel journals.

“Scary Ticket Police” recorded by Tiffany Crowl
“My biggest fear became a reality tonight as we got caught riding the Bologna buses without a ticket. We had been riding the buses all day without purchasing a ticket because the cost of a bus ticket is similar to the price of a gelato—which a gelato seemed more important than a bus ticket and we are all a little tight on money anyhow. But, each time we got on the bus I almost wanted to go without my gelato because I feared getting caught. Since Colleen, Mary Beth, Meg, and Lizard never seemed to worry, so why should I? Then as we were interring the bus headed into town for a crazy night of pizza and gelato, Lizard suggested we get a ticket. Everyone ignored the request because, hey, we got around free all day today. Then it happened, two men in blue coats stepped on our bus. My heart began to race and I couldn’t see straight. I tried to hide the terror that I was feeling inside. The bus police got out his pad and began writing a ticket to two guys behind us. I turned to Lizard; she was the only one who noticed the trouble we were in at this point. My armpits began to sweat intensely. He was coming to us next. The bus had to stop soon. We had to get off! Then, everyone was aware of the situation and we made plans in mumbled English to calmly get off the bus at the next stop. The time between stops felt like an eternity. Then, it finally stopped. The doors opened and I could smell the freedom of the cool nights air. As Lizard made strides toward the exit, she was stopped by the bus polices’ arm and a gruff voice. We tried to play the dumb American card. I even gave him the ticket we had bought yesterday and I acted like I thought it was good. He did not fall for it. We were trapped. The bus doors closed and I felt that I was being held captive. We calmly walked to the front of the bus, bought a bus ticket, and strategized our escape. Moving to the front bought us a little time but we had to get off. I felt so trapped. We begged the bus driver to open the front door and we got out and walked away as fast as possible. We had successfully escaped the ticket police. Although this situation was scary, it will not prevent us from riding the buses free."

Another excerpt is by our new friend Colleen from London who was visiting us for the week. This is our last and final bus adventure.
“…the last bus ride home. We were parading down the road, owning it as American girls do—after our final dinner in Bologna and all of a sudden (as most of us are probably dreaming of when our next bite of Nutella will sweetly visit our lips), we hear Meg yell “Bus 25!” cuing our bus. We know this bus well—as it was one of the main places we spent our time in Bologna. Anyway, back to the story—at this burst of information—Mary and I stop our boisterous singing and in single-file-unison, our bodies full or pizza, panne, nutella, crepes and cromboline—start sprinting in ridiculously SLOW-motion to catch this bus as if our lives depended on it. I don’t know what the streets full of Bologna locals thought of us, but all I could hear was uncontrollable American laughter as our feet slowly pounded to the bus, in fear we might have to walk any further with our bellies. Needless to say, we caught it, and I don’t think Bologna has had a show like that in a long while.”

Although we had a rather peculiar trip, I would still recommend Bologna to anyone. They might just need to get a bus route map before boarding a Bolognian bus :)


Yesterday, my umbrella officially broke. It had been hanging on for the past week, but now it’s completely lacking three stems. It has been raining almost every day, but on Monday we were able to see the big blue. One of my classes took a tour of the fresh food markets. It’s probably my new favorite places! There are street vendors everywhere from 7am-2pm selling their fresh produce straight from their farms. My teacher Martina said they drive for miles every morning just to sell their produce in Firenze. I can’t tell you how much I have grown to admire the Italian lifestyle and culture.


I am very thankful to be studying here, though I do wish there weren’t so many Americans. I feel like everywhere I turn, there is another American student. I didn’t realize that FUA wasn’t the only American University in Firenze. I guess that’s just me being naive. Overall, I do like my classes. I am enjoying my culture and language classes because we have been able to interact with true Florentines. Also, my Fashion and Religion classes seem to be very interesting so far. The only class I constantly complain about is my writing class. I think it’s just because I’m not used to my teachers style of teaching, or rather the type of competitive atmosphere he allows the students to create. I just hope I adjust, so I will improve on my writing skills.


I’m sorry I fell behind on this update. Tiff is writing another one tomorrow to catch up on what I’ve left out. Miss you guys very much & I hope and pray all is well.
Tutta Mia Amore,
Elizabeth

Sometimes Life Reveals Little Surprises

On several occasions, Lizard and I have just looked at each other and laughed because of the little surprises that life has thrown us over the past week. We have found ourselves dining with a boy from Argentina named Gustavo, chasing after trains with broken luggage, and following crazy Australians around Rome.

So we finally arrived in Florence. I had no sleep, no money, and no idea what to expect. Lizard and I caught a taxi to the SAI office, there we received the keys to our apartment and our new cell phones. I am constantly thankful for Lizard’s innate ability to get around cities and find train stations. There are times I feel completely helpless and clueless, I am thankful for my little Italian speaking friend.

The SAI office said that our apartment was just a four minute walk away, so we decided we could just walk there with no problem because we had already carried our luggage all through Rome. But this last walk to our apartment almost did me in. I did not know if I could carry my broken luggage over any more cobble stone roads without dying.

We finally found our apartment. In our excitement to see our new living situation we left our luggage at the bottom and ran up the concrete staircase to our apartment. Before we even entered the apartment I was already in love with it. I loved the stained concrete steps. They seemed to hold so much story to them, like many of the cobble stone roads and other old buildings. Their cracks and crevices revealed their long lifetime.



Our front door does not have a handle and the key is so oddly shaped. The key looks like it should unlock an old treasure chest buried in deep in the ocean and in a way the key did exactly that. This key opened up one of the neatest treasures of my adventures in Italy. Our little apartment is so beautiful, small, and quaint. Our apartment is more than I could have hoped for.



Lizard and I share a lofted room. As long as I can remember I have begged my parents to loft my bed then begged my roommates at Baylor to let me use my wood skills to make a loft in our house. My dreams of living in a tree house are now fulfilled! We have a large window in our room that looks like something from Snow White. It is wooden and made with old glass that latches with a piece of old metal.

There is a song by the Weepies called Simple Life that describes my feelings when I am in the apartment. Our kitchen is maybe three feet by three feet. The other night after dinner, my roommates and I found ourselves all trying to fit into the small area to clean the dishes which resulted in a combustion of laughter. Even for its small size we have done very well with cooking very good meals.





Little things are slightly different here, like flushing the toilet. In our little bathroom we have to flush by pulling this string above our toilet. And to ventilate the bathroom we have to open a small window in our bathroom. The hot water does not last long, and we have to take quick showers! I just did my laundry and it was so weird to hang all my clothes out the window. This morning I had to rush to get them off the line because it was beginning to rain. The little things are so wonderfully different.

I have come to the realization that I flirt in the same manner as an Italian man. At home, when I am driving by myself, I enjoy trying to pick up guys at stoplights. I think it is the same thing here. The guys just like to see if they can get your attention. It is so fun. Oh, and the other day, I saw this guy with dreadlocks carrying a guitar and of course, I decided to follow him. I laughed when I realized that this, too, is an action of an Italian man.

Also, Lizard and I really want to meet an Italian friend so we can get a ride on one of these cool scooters! Everyone drives them! How fun!



I wanted to add this picture to the blog because Lizard looks o so bella!



This beautiful church is right next to our house. We pass it everyday!



Lizard and I went for a walk and ended up here!





My roommates and I have made a recent discovery that has changed our lives…Nutella. We decided to write an ode to it and we wanted to share it with you:

Ode to Nutella

Sweet, o so sweet,
Why not sooner did we meet?
The very presence your scent,
Chocolate-hazelnut, begins my descent.
More and more I desire,
The sweet taste of your attire

When I dip into you,
Parts of me become anew.
Parts of you seem to remain,
In the crevasse of my domain.

On my lip you will stay,
Until, my saliva melts you away.
Why must your stay be short lived?
When there is much more you could have gived.
I need no other to satisfy,
Please be replenished or I will die.

La Dolce Vita!

Hello World,

So, I feel like I need to apologize. I accidentally deleted our old blog due to that fact that I don’t know Italian as well as I thought I did. However, I hope you were able to read it, because I didn’t save it on my computer either…. Oops.

But here are some pictures from our stay in Roma and also from our trip. If you would like to know more about our stay in Roma or The Yellow just send me a message and we will update you. Tiff will be writing in a few to let you know how we are doing in Firenze!

Tutta Mia Amore!

Lizard/Elizabeth