Here’s to another heart-opening, mind-warmng experience with the Sensi family. How do we get so lucky (dare I say blessed?) to come to know people like these? The DJ just turned 22 the week before and so he made us a whole lotta meat to celebrate. It had been a while since we’d been to their place and it had been even longer since we, the team, had let ourselves really step away from work. Both were welcome experiences.
This was only the beginning.
I stand for resisting the urge to feed dogs scraps from the table. Don’t teach them to beg! And yet… I guiltily admit that I was quietly slipping Gwendy bits of pork rind from my plate. Look at her!!! Can you blame me?
I made a pair of beer cozies for DJ Franky to celebrate his birthday. (He is pointing them at the label on his sweatshirt: “Smile Manager.”) Bammers painted a portrait of him– a gorgeous line drawing complete with headphones and visual interpretation of the music coming from them.
The conversation covered film, art, philosophy, the fight against human trafficking, world economy, the nature of perception, mystical experiences, and the best liquors in the world.
The conversation was a little too lively and the food a little too scrumptious. We arrived for lunch at 1:30 pm and then stayed for dinner! I left in the early car and got back to the Santa Brigida at 11 pm. Now that’s a lunch.
This 10-hour blast of good will and wonder prompted in me some musings on the insufficiency of my Italian skills. I’ve been thinking about the patience it takes for other people
to be around me while i’m learning a new language and how abundant that patience seems in this country. Even though my attempts are always met with support and smiles, still it is so painful for me to struggle through because I know they know at least as much English as I know Italian. I remember my time in Spain and the experience, the mental shifting necessary to learn a new language. At some point, (I have not gotten there yet with Italian) you know all the words but you still don’t speak the language. Then, at another point, you get pissed off
you get sick of not knowing the language
and you blunder out into the night
screaming and yelling
and then you realize
you are yelling in italian.
it isn’t until you give it up
that you speak the new language.
it isn’t until you admit that all languages are a sham
that you can pick up a new one.
you have to be able to try it on
like a fedora with a plaid ribbon band,
thinking that you’ll just take it off again.
Just about all the photos in this blog were taken by Antoinette. Including this one. Way to activate the world into art!