20 minutes of spring break

hello all, it's been too long. i've got 20 minutes before class starts, so i thought i'd pump out a quick overview of what went down on my 10 day tour of european capitals, also known as spring break '06.

my buddy joe bell and i left arezzo at 6 am on friday morning 10 march, hopping a train to rome. we arrived at termini station around 08:30 and went directly to our hostel to check in and drop off our stuff, which for both of us because as americans we understand well that stuff is baggage. not only in the literal sense that would seem most appropriate in this travel context, but in the spiritual sense. i was carrying the weight of exactly one black jansport backpack (in italian, zaino - great word) upon my soul. while giving our information to the proprieter and taking a look around hostel freestyle (now apparently closed), a tall redheaded youth stepped out of one of the hostel rooms in regal pyjamas and rubbed his eyes. it was none other than reid williamson, a friend of mine and my sister ellie's from our community college italian courses last summer. i had known that he was in perugia this spring and had been trying to set up a time to get together, but apparently our destiny was to meet rather at 08:30 in a 4 room hostel in rome. such meetings, i have come to believe, are beautiful reminders that the idea of 'home' rests much more securely in people that crop up along the way than in a concrete locale. home can come on the road with you; home can sneak up behind you; home can duck under a doorway in pyjama pants and rub its eyes, then rub its eyes again in surprise that you have found it.

after a communal caffé and catching up, i spent the morning at Santa Maria Degli Angeli e dei Martiri, known to its previous occupants (roman citizens, also women and slaves) as the Baths of Diocletian. the history of this place is simply ridiculous. originally built as an enormous bath complex, a feat of roman engineering perhaps yet to be duplicated in the last two millenia, it was ridiscovered (still standing in beautiful condition after nearly 1200 years of total neglect) by Michaelangelo, who suggested to the pope that the frigidarium (the largest, fairly cavernous room with a fantastic triplex vaulted roof) be transformed into a place of worship, which it had most certainly been for its original designer. the transition from pagan/political to christian(/political) was executed masterfully.

but i spent most of my time meditating on the new bronze doors of the church (installed 28 february). the enormous doors, which were the essence of gravitas, were designed and sculpted by igor mitoraj, whose previous work dealt primarily with the use of classical themes reinterpreted along existentialist lines. this personal artistic history, included and transcended in the sacred subjects depicted on the doors - the Annunciation and the Resurrection - had a fascinating and moving resonance with the tranformation of the structure itself from temple of intellectual mastery of material by the inbreathing of spirit. and the doors themselves are challenging - challenge those entering to reconsider of their understanding of their faith: the annunciation pictures a fractured, headless Virgin and the resurrection has a Christ striding out from the plane of the door, the cross carved into his very chest.