Down to the Arno and Back
Dec. 7th, 2007 06:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
angela_n_huntYeah, so much for the English Cemetary.
I went the opposite direction.
I'm glad that I did. The day ended up being an awesome shooting day. The overcast ended up being what I refer to as God's Own Diffuser. Perfect, even light.
After that, I ended up at the cafe for a caffe americano to thaw out.
Speaking of caffe, the shit that they serve in the States is a pale joke to what real caffeine can be. I'm going to miss it when I get home.
I will say that I'm going to miss the ability to walk wherever I want to go when I get back to LA. The old Missing Persons song is still too apt. No one walks in LA, because frankly, no one can. The sprawl is just too damn spread out. And pub trans is a joke. It's times like this when I curse that LA has no real rail, the way that Tokyo and London do, or local things to walk to, the way it is here in Florence, the way it is in San Francisco.
Tonight, I'm in search of a plate of ravioli.
* * *
Today is also the anniversary of the day my father died. I lit an electric candle for him at the local church. It left a little to be desired, but it was in front of a plaque of St. Francis.
It's been five years. I still miss him more than I can say. But today, it's just melancholy and wistfulness. The painful grief stage has passed, at least today. I know he's proud of me. I know he looks out for me and for my Mouse.
But not being able to email him all about what I'm seeing here... Well, until the Summerlands get a T3 connection, I'm left with talking to the sky.
I love you, Poppa Bear. Take care of my little cat for me.
I went the opposite direction.
I'm glad that I did. The day ended up being an awesome shooting day. The overcast ended up being what I refer to as God's Own Diffuser. Perfect, even light.
After that, I ended up at the cafe for a caffe americano to thaw out.
Speaking of caffe, the shit that they serve in the States is a pale joke to what real caffeine can be. I'm going to miss it when I get home.
I will say that I'm going to miss the ability to walk wherever I want to go when I get back to LA. The old Missing Persons song is still too apt. No one walks in LA, because frankly, no one can. The sprawl is just too damn spread out. And pub trans is a joke. It's times like this when I curse that LA has no real rail, the way that Tokyo and London do, or local things to walk to, the way it is here in Florence, the way it is in San Francisco.
Tonight, I'm in search of a plate of ravioli.
* * *
Today is also the anniversary of the day my father died. I lit an electric candle for him at the local church. It left a little to be desired, but it was in front of a plaque of St. Francis.
It's been five years. I still miss him more than I can say. But today, it's just melancholy and wistfulness. The painful grief stage has passed, at least today. I know he's proud of me. I know he looks out for me and for my Mouse.
But not being able to email him all about what I'm seeing here... Well, until the Summerlands get a T3 connection, I'm left with talking to the sky.
I love you, Poppa Bear. Take care of my little cat for me.
