Happy Easter!

That's some Easter Basket!

Italians do it with style!

(seen a few Easters ago in Stilo, Calabria)

Dream a Little Dream

©L. Ciacco, Hut in Calabria, 2007

Maybe I'll disappear into my little dream hut, live on cheese and wine to invoke some visions, and not emerge until it's spring

S/he Moves On

A woman sits in the window of a coffee shop, gazing reflectively outward while looking pensively within.  Her dreams go up like prayer flags.

Outside the coffee shop where the woman sits thinking,  a motorized wheel chair, bedecked with prayer flags, sits abandonned.  Perhaps it's the woman's chair and her long-standing prayers have been answered. Maybe she's not yet ready to walk away from that former identity and those familiar boundaries.

Down at the village dump, an old typewriter lies abandonned.  What poems, letters to the editor, resumés, love letters, notices of resignation, unpublished novels and brilliant essays did it help create before all the ideas and ideals became outmoded?

Did the passion that went into forming all those words to describe the indescribable burn itself out?  Did the writer move on, move out, move up to realize his long-held prayer of being recognized, or simply walk away from that dream and never look back?

When one dream is fulfilled or a prayer granted, how many others rush in to take its place?

In Like a Lion

Are you familiar with the folksy weather prediction about March, "In like a lion, out like a lamb"?  March came streaking in here last night, roaring around outside the house and scraping its sharp claws against the walls and windows.  As I lay snuggled under my quilts I thought to myself, either it's pouring rain and will wash away all the snow, or it's hammering down ice-pellets.  This morning, when I heard the tell-tale rumble of a snow plough passing, I knew what we were in for.

View from bedroom window (blurry because seen through tears!)

Snow plough passing.

View (?) from kitchen window.

Give me spring lamb any day!

(As seen in Italy, but I'll take it wherever I can get it)

Shrine On!

I had a wonderful surprise in the mail today! Due to my sprained ankle (yes, yes, I know I've milked the subject dry) I haven't made it to the post office of late to clean out the usual build up of dust from my mail box. Yesterday, however, I was befuddled to find a "final warning!" card there to pick up a parcel that had, apparently, been awaiting me for several days. As the postal clerks had gone home, I had to wait until this morning to collect my mystery mail. I was completely surprised and utterly delighted to find that my friend over at Driftwood & Turtles had sent me the book, Shrines, Images of Italian Worship by Steven Rothfeld.

The dust jacket tells us, "Created by average people as an expression of religious devotion, the shrines appear along ordinary roads in villages and cities, in the fields of farmers, and in the yards of simple cottages and homes."

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THANK YOU SO VERY VERY MUCH, KIBBY!

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The Drifter knew I'd love the book because I'd gathered a few images of my own on my trip to Calabria a while back. Here's a taste of what I saw:

(Photo taken in Tropea, May 2007. I am especially fond of the little electric candle that's been rigged up inside.)

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(Photo taken in Tropea, May 2007. At this shrine, I was tickled by the lingering presence of a Christmas garland draped over the padlocked Madonna).

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Throughout my trip, I was enchanted by the many and varied shrines embedded in the walls of palazzos, popping up in the middle of roadways, jumping out from shadowed nooks and beside hidden doorways. They embodied the simplicity, sincerity, and oftimes full-blown tackiness of genuine folk art.

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(Photo taken in Pizzo, 2007)

Shrine to Our Lady of the Dish Towel (?)

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On a sadder note, the publication of Mr. Rothfeld's book pretty much eradicates my fantasy of getting an arts grant from the Canada Council to roam about Italy gathering photos of folksy shrines. It's been done, they'll tell me.

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Maybe instead I'll try pitching the idea of collecting pictures of graveyard statuary and bathtub Madonnas from PEI!

(Seen above: Our Leaning Lady)

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Palazzo Bragho, Tropea--Part 1

Fond memories of the palazzo where we stayed for two weeks in Tropea, Calabria, Italy. We went in April 2007, unprepared for the lack of central heating. It was such a relief when the morning would dawn bright and sunny and we could venture out into the warmth.