My Life In Florence Series (Episode: Plans change)

(View from my flat of Brunelleschi's famous Duomo Cupola. They said he was crazy for trying to build it. I say people are crazy for waiting in the long queue trying to get in. For more fascinating info see http://www.mega.it/eng/egui/monu/bdd.htm)


(Orginally written Nov. 19, 2002, the planned end of my six month sabbatical in Florence, Italy. So much for plans. From here on out it got real intresting)

A plane took off today from London’s Gatwick Airport with an empty seat sandwiched in the middle of Coach where no pretzels or half cooked chicken or beef will be served. As for the missing passenger, one can find him still reposing in his Florentine paradise amongst the statues, museums and overfed pigeons and tourists content to remain and see what surprises follow each successive morning.

The air has turned colder and wetter and the summer crowds of Americans and French, outdoor concerts and mosquitoes have given way to Japanese, smoky trattorias and Christmas decorations. The expectant expatriate continues to transition along with the city of Renaissance turning from one season to the next. The obvious comparison of “rebirth” although somewhat trite still manages to fit the situation.

He is certainly not the same person as when he arrived, now a few scant days short of six months. Through many experiences he has further defined his strengths and weaknesses and learned that while major life transitions are never as easy or painless as the quintessential escapist dream may portray they can nonetheless be weathered though generous amounts of patience, flexibility and cheap but drinkable Chianti.

Love, too provides its solace and he has drank heartily from that grail during the past months. As the scheduled day’s activities wither away and the bad Italian television becomes unfortunately easier to comprehend at least from a linguistic standpoint, his thoughts now turn to the future and the myriad of choices inevitable on the rolling Tuscan horizon. The ugly specter of wage-earning and the other mundane tasks of modern day survival await where inconvenience is really the only predator waiting outside the cave of uncertainty to devour all those blessed enough to be in the middle class.

French lessons, Italian lessons, frequent trips to the Internet Café, and time spent in the various venerated Florence Piazze watching Italian daily life passionately unfold before him all occupy his time as he waits for replies from the numerous employment inquiries that will lead him to his next Italian city and adventure. His love, absent for two months, has returned from the neutrality of her Swiss abode committed to sharing her own dreams of a renaissance life with him.

Strength in numbers, a common vision and a true acceptance of each other’s own individuality bring a renewed enthusiasm and resolve to the pair. Nonetheless, he still reflects back over his past lives that are fast approaching in number the nine reserved expressly for those of the feline species. They all have had their significance and the impressions left by family and friends continue to positively influence and provide the security that no matter where he may be there will always be a home across the waters.

He cannot say for certain when he will return to that faraway home, as he has given up on prognostication as a fruitless exercise reserved for those who believe that they still can control their destiny but knows that when he does return it will a warm reunion as if he never had departed.

Each day is new and uncharted, he has learned, as he rides the sometimes turbulent waves in search of a more profitable and direct route to the paradise we all seek. Like Columbus he may not in the end discover that shorter route to profits of the heart and soul but he will most certainly find a New World, open for his exploration and discovery. Vediamo, vediamo (we will see, we will see)…………….