What I Know vs How I Feel

We've seen quite a bit of art in the last two days.  I know very, very little about art, so I can rarely look upon it with an educated eye, but I do love the feelings it evokes in me (sometimes).

Yesterday, we visited the museum at Il Duomo.  The quote of the day came from Sara who, when I marveled at the fact that there are so many 13th and 14th century busts and statues just out in the open, where everyone can touch them, retorted, "Bah.  Those things are a dime a dozen here."  Oh, how quickly we become spoiled by the multitude of centuries-old art around us!

Today, we went to the Uffizi and a couple science museums (which were awesome, but science isn't the subject of this posting).  The art at the Uffizi is astounding, and one of my favorite artists has numerous paintings there.  Botticelli was alive in the late 15th and early 16th century, and I have always loved his paintings.  I don't know exactly why, and I certainly cannot put it into words (because, as I admitted, I know little of art), but I do know that I want to climb into those paintings.  In the absence of being able to do that, I can say that Botticelli is one of the few artists who inspires me to sit and just stare.  Perhaps forever. 

I don't think I had ever put my finger on it, but I realize now that it's the softness , the roundness with which he paints women.  The muscled bodies of women in other paintings (heck, one in the Vatican was modeled after a man) are just not nearly as appealing.  Or, perhaps it reminds me of my dad telling me as a teenager that I was "bella grossa," and not fat, or how all of my Italian relatives always fed us to show how much they loved us.  Whatever the reason, those beautiful, soft women make me want to have coffee with them, and ask them whether they have any issues with their mothers-in-law, or if they have a really great recipe for chicken cacciatore.  And then, standing there, Sara once again put words to it.  She stared at a lovely Botticelli and said, "I like his ladies..."  Yep, Sara, I like his ladies, too.

The kids went to two more museums after lunch, but I wandered back towards the apartment.  On the way, I made a side trip back through the piazza near Santa Croce and found a gift for a girlfriend back home that was perfect.  Sometimes, the "aw heck, why go straight home?" moves are the best.  Home for lunch (which included prosciutto, of course - how will I live without having prosciutto every day after I get home?), then some time to sit out in the back garden, read a book, and watch the storm clouds gather.  By the time the lightning was flashing and the thunder booming, the kids came home and walked into the garden with a cup of gelato for me.  Then, a nap.

I could so get used to this....