To be continued Driving Miss Daisy, 1989. With Jessica Tandy, and Morgan Freeman as her chauffeur. Driving through the woods, he has a hard time convincing this very proper southern lady they had to stop so he could relieve himself. Then at the end he visits her in a retirement home and lovingly feeds her,Continue reading “Movies II”
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Claudio – Desert
I’ve a lot to learn from my son. He should have been a writer. He’s much better than I am. He was in Arizona for the university study abroad program (2015?) and they showed him the desert. He wrote home to Italy about his experience and I must have translated it into English. Boots, alwaysContinue reading “Claudio – Desert”
Mother Tongue
I’m translating from Italian to English. But is English my mother tongue? Since my mother’s mother tongue was German, her first words to me, her infant daughter, were undoubtedly in German, but I don’t consider that my mother tongue. It might be so in a sense, for I probably absorbed it as I did my mother’sContinue reading “Mother Tongue”
Voice
I GIVE YOU MY THOUGHTS. I GIVE YOU MY WORDS. I GIVE YOU MY VOICE. Thoughts are always in the form of words. I can hear them in my mind, enunciate them. You too can hear them. But it is how they are said that matters. There’s a difference between giving you my thoughts inContinue reading “Voice”
Not a Madeleine
But a Mounds bar. Coconut and dark chocolate. A Mounds bar from the vending machine along the side of the station sidewalk while I wait for the train to come swooshing in. The year 1952. A subway station in New York. I have always liked coconut but it has to be paired with dark chocolate.Continue reading “Not a Madeleine”
Three Beginnings
What shall I write today? It is already Tuesday. Perhaps about Judi Dench and Shakespeare since I’m reading Judi Dench the Man Who Pays the Rent. Each night four or five pages of bedtime reading, no more. Of marveling how Judi analyses each of the characters she then brings to life on the stage. How she inhabits,Continue reading “Three Beginnings”
Day After Day
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF AN ALMOST 97 YEAR OLD LADY WHO HAD THE MISFORTUNE TO FALL AND BREAK HER LEG A YEAR AGO Hard to realize I’m no longer independent. Hard to realize my lovely dog has crossed the rainbow bridge. Now who invented that idea? I find there is a real rainbowContinue reading “Day After Day”
The Quick Brown Fox
8:30 a.m. My son has just finished giving his 17-year old cat her breakfast. Now he turns to his 96-year old mom before making his way upstairs to his computer studio via the spiral staircase that brings to mind an Austrian chalet and not an Italian farm house. The stairs reflect my father’s Germanic originsContinue reading “The Quick Brown Fox”
Memory II
Back to the beginning, two There are no barriers to where your thoughts will take you. I was back once more in 1957. Perhaps it wasn’t so strange after all that I should be a little afraid. Up until now everything seemed to have moved with a kind of fatality that made every act seemContinue reading “Memory II”
Memory I
Back to the Beginning There are no barriers to where your thoughts will take you. After finding the villa a friend had lent us for our honeymoon, Mario and I stretched out in the sun. I had already walked along the shore and photographed the fishermen hauling in their nets. Now, with nothing special toContinue reading “Memory I”
Wedding II
That evening in Mario’s family home we prepared the confetti or sugared almonds which were to be given as thank you favors for the presents. Good luck symbols, five sugar-coated almonds wrapped in a white net bag, tied with a silver cord and with an orange blossom, to be laid in a porcelain dish, orContinue reading “Wedding II”
Wedding I
Europe but mostly Italy People, art, landscapes, the culture As a child in the thirties and forties most of what was happening in the world had passed me by. I preferred wandering barefoot in fields and woods, alone. I would lie down in the grass, among sun-kissed wild strawberries, and watch the clouds move slowlyContinue reading “Wedding I”
Belonging II
TO A SPECIFIC STREET IN A SPECIFIC TOWN When I got married, we moved to a specific street, in a specific town, in a specific part of Italy. It was not simply a village but a real town with several thousand inhabitants and I discovered that it was the people with whom I identified moreContinue reading “Belonging II”
Belonging
To place, to who we are. Belonging to the many places we have lived in. Places that have become part of our story, part of our lives. Immigrants over the years. Or emigrants. Places where fate takes us, sometimes we find it has been drawing us like a magnet ever since we were born, placesContinue reading “Belonging”
That Time of Year
It’s that time of year. Bees and bugs and butterflies. Beetles of various shapes and hues. There were two of them who came to pay me a visit. One appeared on my flower pot outside, the other one was inside, trying to get out. The first was black and really handsome, his long antennas wavingContinue reading “That Time of Year”
Never-ending Books
A friend comes to visit. Yes, I know that’s what last week’s post started with. And what do we talk about? Books. Yes, we still talk about books. Not ones we have read, but those we have listened to or watched. These are books we have “seen”, and include a third person, not just theContinue reading “Never-ending Books”
Books
Things shared Experiences Words Books Things heard, things seen: these can be simultaneous. But not touch or taste. For those they must be translated into words. A friend comes to visit. And what do we talk about? Books. We might have shared experiences, things heard, things seen. But it is books that connect us most.Continue reading “Books”
Lights
Inside and out. Clock, bed, lamp. Fireflies. Lights in the dark of night. I think of Pirandello’s story of the light across the way, the story of a solitary man fascinated by the scene he saw in the house across the way where in the evening when light enveloped the family seated around a tableContinue reading “Lights”
Birdie
Birdie with a yellow bill, hopped upon my window sill The birdie with a yellow bill I saw just now hopped . . . upon the branch of a chestnut tree, and chirped away looking for a mate as the wind ruffled his feathers and the leaves around him. Inside, on my window sill, aContinue reading “Birdie”
The Tree
January or February. A winter month. Down by the gate a network of bare branches rising from the imposing trunk of the chestnut tree is silhouetted against a sullen sky. At night stars glitter, pin-pricked against a pale moonlit sky. There may also be the moon before it wanders elsewhere. On each branch, Nodes, almostContinue reading “The Tree”
Erika Bizzarri 