The structures and statues in the park are a sign of respect. The half round building is dedicated to Galileo. It is a small observatory. 5Did you know that already in 600 BC people knew the earth was round and was circling around the sun?)
Here is Dante, with the Divina Comedia open on his lap on a page against the then rulers of Firenze who banished him forever from his beloved city.
Of course I read the Bell on top of the Pantheon as the bell of freedom. Here you see a prime example of trompe oeil in the Pantheon. and the declaration of intent: no immages of tyrants.... only of those who brought hope for futere lives.
The park, part of the romantic park of the composer Puccini, is well kept. You'll find the large meadows, closed in or off by sweeps of trees. There are over 200 kinds of trees here and in a grouping there will usually be a red one to create more drama. The picture is of the lesser lake.
Wide spaces, water, statues and buildings are typical ingredients of this type of garden. The upright lion had been stolen and was replaced by a sleeping lion. This might represent the loss of influence of feudal patrilinear families. The Fortezza is a Gothic building. The buxus is a later addition.
This small temple was dedicated to Tomaso Puccini. You recognize the temple as dedicated to Venus because of the pineapple on the top of the cupola. The beauty is stunning, the quiet of high quality. Every breath is nature, nurture and culture. History lives in these parks. And for those who can still read their environment it is a great teaching aid.
Pistoia, some 40 km outside of Firenze is where the Professoressa was born. The black and white prevailing buildings are in the style of Pisa ( remember the leaning tower?). It is moorish style which please the Renaissance rational mind. It being a lesser city means that the style is less ornate. Really pleasing is rhythm and repetition. I love the archways and portico's. Pistoia was rebelling against the power that be in Firenze and it was in The grand Café of the Globe that the true freedomfighters gathered.
This is why you haven't heart from me. I was in Firenze.
After years of not seeing I visited my friend and old Professoressa Giuliana who lives smack in the middle of Florence. This is the view when one steps out of her frontdoor.
The city is splendid. beauty everywhere and good food. The first times I was in Florence I could not deal with it. Even now at times it was hard: As long as I did look at the Duomo from any other side than from the front I was ok. It would physically make me queasy when I did. My pulse would go up. So not pictures of the front which causes in me le mal de Stendhal. But the food is gorgeous and the city and the hospitality in a city palazzo... beyond words.
I have been granted different tastes of friendship. Rockcastle I have know for 50 years, she is my memory of high school and university. For herself she tends to remember the 'bad stuff', so I remind her her of the fun things... Spookie I have known for over 20 years and although very different, we sometimes react the same way to situations. If the situation isn't good and we react similarly, it is reassuring because then obviously it couldn't be my fault or my oversensitivity. We share puppies from the same litter with D., my style guroe. Dr Scarpone keeps showing we the clear path of accepting what is and learning. The learning part is enjoyable, yet I do try to change what isn't right: in society and in life. There are other people, Cece a fellow traveller, Desert Di the no nonsence but fun practicality, streetmusicians, my wordcrafting friends and peace companions, comrades in the strugle for justice and beauty... People floating in and out of my life, leaving thoughts, a tune, a word. And there are people who could have been friends but stayed at the brink, I staying at the edge, irreconcilable differences draining my energy... I learn from them just like I learn from Norris who with the group 'The Ebony Hillbilly's' just got on the Martha Steward Show: recognition after having turned seventy... Yet he still sleeps on my floor when he needs a place. Strange how from cramping one's style to expanding one's horizon all the flavors are to be found. The lesson is to be kind, generous and helpful, avoiding being used. Sometimes I fall of the tightrope.
I haven't blogged for a long time. Not that there wasn't anything happening in the world or that there was nothing nice and joyful happening. I could have done activism for a writer in prison Zargana, a young comic who is jailed for 37 years by the Burmese generals and now after just a few month is in terrible health. he needs our help. Also spring came along with a force, I found beauty and sights to see... Yet fatigue and resignation had entered my body. I could see and recognize the beauty, document it. And only with the present of rambling vines and a fine meal did the the dark clouds lift.