transatlanticism
I have now been in Europe a little more than a week, although it feels more like months. Every day is a new adventure. That is a good thing. A day should be an adventure regardless of what continent one's on.
Classes seem good. My Italian teacher is this cheerful little Italian woman who wears flashy print sweaters. She has already complimented my pronunciation. Score. My architecture professor is this intense American guy. Just reading the syllabus, I could tell that that is going to be my absolute hardest class this semester. He seems like a very good professor, but he certainly is anal. At least a free trip to Venice and Vicenza is included. My first day of drawing and painting consisted solely of our professor calling a fleet of taxis to take the entire class downtown to get our art supplies. Thanks to Ms. Professor Lombardi, I will never have to buy art supplies again in my whole young life. 175 euros worth of paint and sketchbooks should last me a good long while.
My Italian Cinema class is my absolute favourite. On the first day, we watched Visconti's Ossessione, and Rosselini's Rome: Open City. The professor seems really cool. He teaches film in Rome as well as Florence, and is himself a movie and television director. He said he wants to possibly take us to Rome to see the movie studios there, and also to a movie theatre in town, to watch a fresh, home-grown, current Italian film.
The La Pietra campus is indescribably beautiful. The cypresses, the pebbles, the olive groves; everything is a carefully manicured work of art. Even the on-campus cafe makes divine cappuccinos. The only thing that's odd, but in a nice way, is that it all feels a bit like high school, or, more correctly, a concentrated form of high school, as there are three times less students at this campus than at Plant. Either way, it's nice to run into my friends in between every class.
Speaking of friends, my suitemates are so cool. I get along with everybody, and we almost always cook, eat, drink, and go out together. You should see the huge collection of wine bottles we have already accumulated.
Classes seem good. My Italian teacher is this cheerful little Italian woman who wears flashy print sweaters. She has already complimented my pronunciation. Score. My architecture professor is this intense American guy. Just reading the syllabus, I could tell that that is going to be my absolute hardest class this semester. He seems like a very good professor, but he certainly is anal. At least a free trip to Venice and Vicenza is included. My first day of drawing and painting consisted solely of our professor calling a fleet of taxis to take the entire class downtown to get our art supplies. Thanks to Ms. Professor Lombardi, I will never have to buy art supplies again in my whole young life. 175 euros worth of paint and sketchbooks should last me a good long while.
My Italian Cinema class is my absolute favourite. On the first day, we watched Visconti's Ossessione, and Rosselini's Rome: Open City. The professor seems really cool. He teaches film in Rome as well as Florence, and is himself a movie and television director. He said he wants to possibly take us to Rome to see the movie studios there, and also to a movie theatre in town, to watch a fresh, home-grown, current Italian film.
The La Pietra campus is indescribably beautiful. The cypresses, the pebbles, the olive groves; everything is a carefully manicured work of art. Even the on-campus cafe makes divine cappuccinos. The only thing that's odd, but in a nice way, is that it all feels a bit like high school, or, more correctly, a concentrated form of high school, as there are three times less students at this campus than at Plant. Either way, it's nice to run into my friends in between every class.
Speaking of friends, my suitemates are so cool. I get along with everybody, and we almost always cook, eat, drink, and go out together. You should see the huge collection of wine bottles we have already accumulated.