voyage

The first small hitch on my way to Italy--not so small really, but I am hoping it will not get any bigger was the discovery that my name was mispelled on my passport. The American check-in person, with a sigh, let me through to my plane. Somehow, (God's grace) no one noticed in 2001 when I travelled to nicaragua and back. I am certain the prayers of friends and family also carried me safely to Italy. You can imagine how I was sweating at every customs and country checkpoint!

The longest part of the first day in Italy was in the Roma Termini (Main Rome Train Station). Getting my ticket was not so bad and I made it onto the train from the airport to the Roma Termini with all luggage in tow. Then at Roma Termini, I waited at the wrong train stop and missed my first train. Al loro (so), this just meant I had to get new directions, find my way to the right spot and wait about an hour and a half for the next train. But the train to Chiusi from Rome: Que bella vista! It took us up hills, through tunnels across the Tuscan terrain, and finally to Chiusi where I waited beside a very talkative older Italian man who seemed to make observations of everything while he waited. So I was entertained until Enrico Toigo arrived to make the drive to Chianciano terme (Montepulciano) Yes, all the city names and changes were very confusing to me also.

It's hard to describe well all that has happened since then. Meeting other family, enjoying the cyprus trees, tasting new food, delicious strawberries, the vineyard and wine cantina, Elsa Toigo so kind and hilarious in whose house I stay--who called herself a Spring Chicken :) yesterday, her grandchildren...it goes on.

Wednesday was my first lesson with Gianfranco Rocci, the sculptor. Wow, what a brute of a man; large in stature and passionate in action, but very kind. I have a lot to learn form him and his 50 years! experience with clay. His style of throwing is very different. The wheel is built so you sit to the right and although electric, the pedal takes some strength. Today we trimmed the pots I made yesterday which again was a little different becuase of the tools and the "chuck" he used. Oh, and how can I forget to mention how wild it is to comunicate with him with my piccolo Italiano. Every day, I look up new art words in the dictionary, some is understandable through his motions, and still some things just get lost in translation.

Tutti va bene--all is going well.

Ciao. Piu Tardi (Later)