Insert Unintelligible Noises Here

Ugh.

Ok, I have to say more than that. The past week has been everything from amazing and beautiful to horrible. Maybe a part of that has to do with eating all our meals in a very moldy smelling kitchen that looks like a crypt/cave/dungeon. Sorry, I know, I'm not supposed to complain (my desktop for the past month has been the Dowager Countess from Downton Abbey with the subtitle "STOP WHINING") but the greatness of studying abroad comes with its downsides. I've been doing quite a bit of introverting this week. One of my roommates was just talking about the depressing sound of a baby orca cry and how that expresses so much on bad days. It really is a pathetic sound. Anyways, enough about depressed baby orcas, here's the week in brief.

Monday morning I when to Campo dei Fiori and bought some fruit for breakfast. It began to rain and the market sellers exclaimed "Eccolo!" as it began pouring buckets on the canvas umbrellas over the fruit and vegetable stands. It stopped shortly after that but continued to be horribly muggy.

The day was a bit rough. We were tied down with school related things from 10 AM to at least 6 PM. Studio was especially rough because we're working on this project with starchitect (yes, that's an arkie term) and 2012 Driehaus Prize winner Michael Graves. This Michael Graves:

Portlandia...like the crazy TV show.

Looks like he was looking at Cambridge, eh?

He is confined to a wheelchair now and currently is on some accessibility board in Washington D.C. so it will be interesting to see how he gets around Rome with us. He studied in Rome in the 60's and well, you have Wikipedia.

Anyways, we're working with some fourth and fifth years from the University of Miami and Mr. Graves will be arriving not this week but next. We are working in teams throughout this project so there are pros and many cons to that. It's slightly terrifying to think that we'll have to present what we're working on right now in front of him.

I was going to fill in the details on the week but they have seen blended together into a mush of exhaustion, happiness, and troppo frustration. If the past two days were a color they would not be a pretty color. I knew before I left that the beauty of Italy would come at the price of a lot of stress and that has kicked in early on in as many various forms as the causes. I really started craving some Avett, Mumford, and King Charles as stress reducers. Drafting in studio actually helps too but I don't have enough to do right now and drawing frustrates me easily because I'm not that great yet.

I forget what day some of my friends and I went to the Pantheon at night to draw. It began raining so we sat under the portico and it was very peaceful. Speaking of...there has been this cellist who plays Bach outside the Pantheon and I've seen him on two occasions. That always makes me happy. I've had a spontaneous obsession with cellos for the past few weeks so if you have any favourite cello pieces send them my way.

On Thursday I attempted to go to Mass at the Gesu at noon. I was unaware that Mass is celebrated in a side chapel off in the wing through the gift shop so I actually missed Mass and walked in just as everyone was getting out. That was frustrating but the chapel was beautiful and, of course, the Gesu is as crazy as you can imagine from pictures. I remembered being there before as a child.

The right arm of St. Francis Xavier

The ceiling of the side chapel where Mass was.

Later that day I went to Mass at Santa Maria Sopra Minerva...and ran into an old acquaintance from CUA of all people. I approached him after Mass and we talked for a bit and then planned to meet up on Sunday for Mass and then lunch. That was today and we went to S.S. Trinita dei Pelligrini, the FSSP church in Rome. It was a welcome bit of home for me to be at a church where I could understand the Mass because it was in Latin. Afterwards we got lunch at Bar Valle because that's the only place I could think of and the guy who works there knows me and will immediately ask "cappuccino?". We got absolutely drenched on the way over there though because it was down-pouring during Mass and I had forgotten my umbrella in studio.

(No, I did not have my camera with me when I went to either of those churches. Sorry.)

The night before last night I walked with some friends to the Coliseum. We passed the Roman forum ruins where a play was being performed. It was really neat, they had the ruins lit and you could clearly see and hear the actors and audience below. The Coliseum itself was stunning, of course, and a few stars were visible in the sky. I still have never been inside though I saw it for the first time many years ago. It's a mix of amazing and sobering.

Today since it was raining all day long I popped into the Pantheon and looked up at the oculus. One of the most simple, fascinating and beautiful things was to watch the rain come through that stone opening. It's a bit mesmerizing. I wonder what it's like when it snows.

Tomorrow my class leaves for a field trip to Tuscany. We'll be spending some days in Siena and some in Florence. I haven't decided whether or not I'm going to bring my laptop...we'll see. I probably won't be blogging in that span of time anyways. Blah. I hope all of you are doing well. If you could pray for a special intention I would be very grateful.

Adventured Out.

Once again, I am dead tired but I suppose I need to force myself to write before time goes by too quickly and everything blurs together. I can assure you that these posts will not be as frequent for the rest of the year because then I will have studio work and less time for adventuring. It feels like such a chore to even rack my brain for the events of yesterday and today. I will try to make this the abridged version as much as possible.

Saturday morning my two roommates and I ate breakfast at a sidewalk cafe. While we were sipping cappuccinos and eating croissants a man holding a newspaper came out of the building and called to someone across the street "Salvatore! Salvatore! Salvatore!". I found this to be amusing for some reason.

I also was amused by some of the situation of buying a cellphone. There was a young Italian man who spoke English quite well and an old Italian man who spoke very little. The computers were so slow that at one point the young man exclaimed "Mamma Mia!" and pretended to shoot it machine gun style. The old man said something to one of the customers behind me and the gist of what I caught was that he was joking the computers work every day of the week except Saturday. Also, he didn't know how to tell me there were earbuds included in the package so he gestured with his fingers to his ears and sort of made random sounds.

We went on a walking tour that day after meeting the faculty and we walked all over the place. We literally ran past Trevi Fountain because our teacher was walking at super human speeds. She led us to the Pontifical North American College at the end of the afternoon where we attended Mass and were given a tour.

A side altar at the NAC.

Five of us went out to dinner that night and ate pizza and split a bottle of red wine at a local place that was playing Elvis. The young woman there was extremely nice and it was fun talking to her. We said "buona notte!" as we left and she called us back in for free limoncello.

A bunch of us watched half of the Notre Dame v. Michigan game that night. Let's not talk about that.

Today I ate lunch with one of my roommates at a pizzeria by Sant'Eustachio and Sant'Ivo. We returned to the hotel and I set about to leave and do my own thing. Not everyone has phones yet and it's very hard to coordinate with people so I was unaware of what 98% of my classmates were doing. Since I didn't know of anyone interested in joining me (or couldn't at all contact those who may have been) I walked around by myself. Saying that will probably scare a number of people but I'm alive. I did this because I wanted to go to St. Peter's and the few people I could contact were not interested. You can't really get lost trying to find St. Peter's so that was easy enough. I did not go in today because I didn't want to stand in the line by myself; it was long. After that I walked around Castel Sant'Angelo because, you know, it's there.

All of that didn't take nearly as long as you might think but it was afterwards that was the tricky part. My intention was to church hop but most of the churches I passed were closed at the time. I pretty much wandered and got a little lost and stumbled upon things along the way. Like this:

What the how did this get here?

And this:

 And this:

That supposedly contains the grill that St. Lawrence was famously martyred on. I believe I have been here before.

And this:

Trajan's column anyone?

I am all adventured out and studio starts tomorrow. Ciao for now.

Arrival and Exhaustion in Roma

Whew. I am in Rome and I am exhausted. I'm attempting to get over a nasty cold and did not get any sleep on the airplane last night. That plus jet lag means multo exhaustion. Or something. I think I'm just delirious at this point.

I know people want updates but they shall be brief because such is my attention span. Here's a rough sketch of the day:

• We arrived at the airport around 8:00 Rome time and stood in the super long and slow customs line before we lugged all our bags hither and yon and then piled into a bus. All I could think about was water because I was definitely dehydrated. I also was not enjoying trying to breathe with a stuffy nose and semi sore throat. Blah. 
• The grad students got dropped off at John Cabot University's building for the time being and we lowly undergraduates went on to our hotel. Upon arrival in our delirium we were met with Italian ladies trying to feed us. I bolted for the water. Food, no matter how delicious and Italian, did not interest me or my state of near nausea (but don't worry, I ate). The grapes were of note...twice the size of my thumb...and the Melabanana juice pretty much just had a really fun name. MELABANANA.
• Unloading the bags was not pleasant particularly because I think all the girls are on the third and fourth floors of the hotel. Luckily there's a tiny elevator that got put to use and at least one overly enthusiastic male friend wearing a black blazer and long sleeved shirt who ran (yes, ran) up the four flights of stairs with one of my suitcases.
• Next we went off to our studio for a tour and orientation of sorts. Blah blah blah none of that matters to anyone else. We mostly tried to stay awake and act coherent. 
• A small band of friends and myself set out for a tiny adventure just sort of wandering and taking in Rome. I've been to Rome before but that was nearly a decade ago so it was a little bit like coming for the first time. It's overwhelming to be here and know that you are going to spend a whole school year here. We walked to the Pantheon and through Piazza Navona and stopped to get a cappuccino near the latter location. It lived up to my expectations. I am going to be so spoiled. I tried ordering in Italian and the guy behind the counter just sassed me in return...they had a good sense of humour which made the whole experience even more enjoyable. When we first stepped in a woman gave us a free sample of dark chocolate gelato too. Mmmm.

So, in general my impression of Rome is the smell of leather bags and shoes, manure from horse carriages in the piazzas, tobacco, food, food, food, live accordion music, and incense from church shops. The buildings seem huge and almost set like for some reason except for the fact that they are very solid stone. We're all still in denial that we are here so some of us have compared it to Disney World (I've never been but I imagine it's a similarly surreal feeling but obviously not nearly as cool as Rome itself) or a stage set. But it's real and the many bells from the many churches assure us that we aren't dreaming. So do the European ambulances and the mopeds and the Fiats and...yeah, we'll have to accept sooner or later that we are actually in Rome...maybe when we've gotten some sleep.

Probably won't read this...

You don't have to read this either. I'm by no means a faithful blogger or blog reader and frankly I don't want to be. Spending even more time on the internet is not among my interests.

The people who might just actually read this already know I am headed to Rome for one school year. They also know that this great blessing comes with the pain of leaving one of the best places on earth and more importantly my good friends there. This won't turn into your cliche travel blog because I'm going to start off talking about this journey by discussing one we all have to experience: death.

I probably err on a morbid side of thought because I very often associate the act of leaving and saying goodbye with death. I'm not being dramatic nor do I experience this in a dramatic way. I mean quite bluntly that one day, like it or not, we are going to die and dying involves a kind of parting. Goodbyes are difficult even if they are relatively temporary. When I addressed some of these thoughts this past weekend I followed up with the statement that thankfully "death is a very hopeful thing". Hope needs a purpose, an end, something to hope for. Hope is as lonely and dead as anything without an objective. It needs to be tested or else there is no need for it. We ultimately hope for the heavenly reward for ourselves and our friends and those "who have gone before us with the sign of faith, and rest in the sleep of peace".

Death should be accompanied by hope because we cannot even achieve life without going through it. I mean everlasting life. We are urged to "die to ourselves and live in Christ" spiritually. Bodily we grow and mature and eventually die but spiritually we ought to experience a similar progression only the death involved is one to anything contrary to God. I would venture to say we should be reminded of this in the minor "deaths" we may experience from day to day like leaving friends and family. Catholics talk about offering things up and saints write about "suffering little deaths" and it all sounds so morbid and even masochistic, right? Yet while the world is cowering in confused disgust at ossuaries and gasping at the indecency of mentioning the word death, the Church is turned with an eager heart to the hope of resurrection and the paradox of the crucifixion: "by dying He destroyed our death; by rising He restored our life".

Capuchin ossuary in Rome.

St. Francis said it eloquently in the Canticle of the Sun:

Be praised, my Lord, through our sister Bodily Death,
from whose embrace no living person can escape.
Woe to those who die in mortal sin!
Happy those she finds doing Your most holy will.
The second death can do no harm to them.

One can talk about death for a very long time and there are of course a great many saints who say a great many good things about the subject. However, all of this is to say that throughout this life and in the small goodbyes we are, in the words of Jon Foreman, learning how to die.

But death is a hopeful thing! We hope to be reunited in Christ where there can be no true separation. So we shoulder our struggles and do our duties. After all, "Christians never say goodbye!"* (And Rome, c'mon. It's going to be fun.)

*C.S. Lewis -- A Severe Mercy

Beauty of the Day...

...listening to the Allegri Miserere while a thunderstorm rages outside. When the Miserere ended the sun came out briefly. After running around outside in the pouring rain I'm now sitting here with wet hair listening to this:

Insomniac Ramblings

It is at about this time of night (2:46 am) that, particularly during the summer, my brain starts doing this:

"Hullo! What's this? Is that a deep thought about something of importance? I say, let's think of deep, important things then, shall we? Yes, what a lovely idea! Simply marvelous how eternity drags on, isn't it? And the Trinity! What mystery! Ah, but what shall it be tonight? The state of the world and how so many problems are caused by misunderstandings? The curiousness of time and distance? Hm, death is interesting. Or what about..."

It is at this point when the thought "no, no, I'm supposed to wake up in the morning without feeling like I'm half dead" interjects before the previous jabber continues and starts delving into a topic. This repeats itself a few times until somehow I end up falling into happy little dreamland. (By the way, I've just been watching the 1981 television series of Brideshead Revisited so everything sounds British to me or as if Jeremy Irons is speaking...which is very odd in this case, I suppose, if he's narrating my thoughts.)

This likes to happen chronically and cause an annoyingly intellectual insomnia. I file the thoughts accordingly: 1) they are either something worth a quick blog post about now that I have this, 2) worth writing down on paper with a pen (my preferred means of sorting through things), or 3) something I just mull over in my head while tossing and turning in bed. At some mysterious point just before sleep takes over it's funny how our minds start to numb a bit and then suddenly sink into unconsciousness. The profound thoughts melt into the distance and we're free of them for a while. They become something along the lines of what P.G. Wodehouse says as we strain to remember our mental track: "One of the Georges - I forget which - once said that a certain number of hours' sleep each night - I cannot recall at the moment how many - made a man something which for the time being has slipped my memory." And if we haven't reached that point where we give up on the details it will still be a long time until sleep.

In a sort of awesome but potentially cruel way I'm going to leave you with one of my favourite things to ponder at odd hours...part of Book I of St. Augustine's Confessions.

"Do heaven and earth contain you because you have filled them? Or do You fill them and overflow them because they do not contain You? Where do You put the overflow of yourself after heaven and earth are filled? Or have You, who contain all things, no need to be contained by anything because what You will You fill by containing it? We cannot think You are given coherence by vessels full of You, because even if they were to be broken, You would not be spilt. When You are poured out upon us, You are not wasted on the ground. You raise us upright. You are not scattered but reassemble us. In filling all things, you fill them all with the whole of yourself."

"Is it that because all things cannot contain the whole of You, they contain part of You, and that all things contain the same part of You simultaneously? Or does each part contain a different part of You, the larger containing the greater parts, the lesser parts the smaller? Does that imply that there is some part of You which is greater, another part smaller? Or is the whole of You everywhere, yet without anything that contains You entire?"

Earth looks like a mighty nice footstool.

Helplessness Blues

If you take something seriously you're more likely to get hurt much worse when something goes wrong. If you take morality seriously you're more likely to get frustrated at the state of the world. To really live the Christian life, to see and feel beyond yourself constantly, to really, truly love even one person, especially in a society that tells you to focus on yourself it seems like it takes supernatural strength.

And that's precisely what it does.

That's why "the beauty of grace is that it makes life unfair". Grace is our supernatural strength and lucky for us God is willing to give it. But one of the most curious things is that not only do we say we trust in God but He trusts in us. "Do not hide your face from me; in you I put my trust." is easily something that either one of us could be saying to the other. If we're really worth putting that much effort and confidence into then I should say we aren't actually the slightest bit aware of our potential. 

(Btw, yes, the title is a Fleet Foxes reference.)

Simple is Good

"Q. Why did God make you?
A. God made me to know Him, to love Him, and to serve Him in this world, and to be happy with Him forever in the next."

Sometimes the simplest answer is best. It may sound stupid but dwell on each of those words and it's profound. The Baltimore Catechism* is inseparable from my childhood and boy, do we all need to remember how we were children.

*Funny story...when I was little I thought we used the Baltimore Catechism because we went to church in Baltimore. Later in life I realized it's used in many other states and cities.

An Introduction to Avett

If you are at all a close friend of mine you will surely know that I am a big fan of The Avett Brothers. The two brothers (Scott and Seth) who hail from North Carolina plus Bob Crawford and Joe Kwon comprise this fantastic folksy band. It is rare that a band can pull off having great music and great lyrics consistently but when I say they do it consistently I mean all.the.time. And it's not just that they have good songs with lyrics that aren't completely lame, it's that their music is relatable, effective, emotional, and just plain awesome. They are almost uncomfortably honest about their lives and equally hopeful. They express the human condition at least as well as actual folk songs and great folk singers. It's no wonder they've been able to share a stage with Bob Dylan.

When I went to see them for the first time as I was waiting for them to take the stage I overheard a fan saying it was their fourth or fifth time coming to one of their shows. I was a little surprised by that because it seems that not many people see a band that much. After the first show I understood why they would buy tickets that many times. After my second time seeing them live I really understood. Some bands are just bad when they play live. This is not the case with the Avetts. They are much better live than on the records. They are also willing to change things up on stage and make each show truly unique.

Scott and Seth also have a nice balance between the silly and sentimentally serious. They have pretty much any type of emotion packed into their 7 albums and 4 EPs. There are so many beautiful quotes I could pull out from their songs I would hardly know where to begin. Scott once said in an interview that they treat the lyrics and the actual music as equally important and I believe it.

So, having said all that if you've never heard any of their lovely songs before try this one out for starters:

Then I recommend "I and Love and You"...and everything else.

The Weight of All Good Things

The amount I've posted on this blog reflects something of the amount of enthusiasm I have towards this summer at the moment. The end of the semester was totes cray (as they say) and now is the perfect time to pick up the miserable amount of my slack. Thus far the heaping quantity of the summer's lame-itude has been frustrating BUT, nevertheless, this blog is not only supposed to serve as an outlet for whatever bloggers blog about but also specifically for talking about the gobs and gobs of things to be happy about in each and every boring day. And that means no matter how pathetically dull it gets there's still many a reason to get on with things with a good ounce or two of gratitude.

So. What am I happy about after too many trips to the dentist this week, separation from many of my friends and my amazing little nephew and my terribly crazy and fun sister and her husband, a general feeling of complete and utter rottenness, and the lull of waiting for a job application to be processed?

Well, here's a list:

• Books. Now is the perfect time to spend with my other good friends (the ones I've never actually met because regrettably they died before I was born) - Tolkien, Chesterton, Lewis, St. Augustine, Newman, O'Connor, Wodehouse, Dostoyevsky, etc. (And I'm just guessing I'd call the last three "friends" because I'll admit right now that I haven't read very much of them yet. This is precisely why I need to tackle my massive reading list.)
• Tea. 'Nuff said.
• Sleep. At the very least I'm not pulling all-nighters and that's something to be thankful for.
• Time with the rest of my family. When it's not overly chaotic it is very pleasant to be able to sit down and just talk with my mom or dad and have silly exchanges with my brother.
• The potential to meet up with my lovely high school friends. I say potential because none of us have actually done it yet *cough*. Darn those conflicting schedules.
• The excitement of Rome this fall. It's not always something I'm looking forward to because I'll absolutely hate to leave behind the Dome and my friends but, c'mon, even if it turns out to be an awful year it won't be half that bad.
• The ability to do so many things with all this time I magically now have...things like writing, drawing, physical exercise (*snort*), and most especially playing music.    

So, while I gather up my energy to do the things I would like to I wonder if maybe this chronic summer slump every year isn't due in part to the crushing weight suddenly thrown on me of having the time and freedom to accomplish all sorts of things. I know for quite a while I've been in need of a rest and silence and now that that chance has come I'm put off by it. It makes everything seem like some sort of burden because I'm not rushing around and I'm used to that. Now summer is just a wasteland of time. The slump under the weight of this time is only made overwhelming by the myriad possibilities of what I can do with it. But the heaviness of things makes us appreciate their magnitude and there's a lot of good that can be done in the presence of gratitude. After all, God isn't very subtle about His goodness to begin with.   

Brought to you by the Number 3 and the Letter E

Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder. I wouldn't know because I'm a particularly beauty-stricken beholder. What I do know is this: Beauty is all around us if we want to look for it. It's often hidden, but believe me, we want the mystery of beauty. Without it, our minds, as Augustine might say, would become bored.

So, let's go on an adventure.

Here we are on a college campus on a Friday night. It's noisy and raucous (in fact, nothing like THIS Friday night, since most people are moved out or moving out right now) and we are sitting around on RA duty. (Ok, that's more or less accurate.) We have three assignments due on Monday and we know it's going to be a long night of busting parties and confrontations with drunk undergrads (who are, as you might guess, nothing like the Mere Undergrad.) So, where's the beauty?

Our detection skills tell us to look outside. Even though a thick cloud covers South Bend, a small space in the cloud is able to let the light of a single star in. The wind is blowing through the trees and an owl hoots (or is it a mourning dove?) Looking up at our dorm, we realize that the very idea of Shelter is beautiful. We were made with many strengths. We have a rational mind, and yet we can not naturally protect ourselves. We must make a shelter for ourselves, and our rational mind is put to the task of creating such a shelter. Then we are protected from the wind and the cold. We realize that warmth is beautiful. The moon breaks through the clouds and reflects off the lake. The cold blue light creates a world where mysteries wait to happen. Suddenly, we think of the blue light of the moon and the yellow light of the sun and how each has its place and each is perfect for its place. Then we think of Blue itself and Yellow itself. Our eyes can see color which is waves of light reflected off of objects on which our eyes are fixed. It is like the lake, with waves hitting the shore and our eyes are like children standing with the waves lapping around their feet, refreshed and happy.

So with that, dear friends, we find beauty. We solve the mystery and have forgotten even where we are in the process. When we lose ourselves in beauty, we become bound by the beauty, and when we are bound by beauty, we become truly free.