Final days
I have less than a week left here in Florence. 5 days, then I leave for Barcelona, but this time I’m not coming back to Florence. I’m flying all the way back to LA.
Where did the time go?
Inside every adult lurks a graduation speaker dying to get out, some world-weary pundit eager to pontificate on life to young people who’d rather be Rollerblading. Most of us, alas, will never be invited to sow our words of wisdom among an audience of caps and gowns, but there’s no reason we can’t entertain ourselves by composing a Guide to Life for Graduates.
I encourage anyone over 26 to try this and thank you for indulging my attempt.Ladies and gentlemen of the class of ‘97:
Wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they’ve faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Sing.
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts. Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don’t waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long and, in the end, it’s only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don’t.
Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else’s.
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.
Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.
Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents. You never know when they’ll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They’re your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you’ll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you’ll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair or by the time you’re 40 it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen.
—
Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young
Article by Mary Schmich in the Chicago Tribune, 1997
Watercolor day
Spent the day watercoloring, which I haven’t done for 9 months. I probably shouldn’t have spent the day doing that when my project is due in 4 days…
Pisa + Cinque Terre
After 9 months of being in Florence, Italy, only a 1 hour train ride away, I finally went to Pisa to see the leaning tower. It’s everything everyone and every book has said it is…leaning. How my roommate put it: “Italy would have a leaning tower.”
I didn’t bring a camera that day, only my sketch book, suntan lotion, a towel and a sandwich. I spent exactly 1 hour on the lawn, sketched, walked back to the train station and went to Cinque Terre. I actually really like the Duomo there, too bad the leaning tower sort of overshadows it.
That day, the last day on my Eurorail pass (1st class!!! thanks parents), was really relaxing and refreshing. I think it was my favorite day this year. It reminded me of last summer.
I spent a few hours on the beach of Monterosso, the northern most city of Cinque Terre. The beach was fairly empty, and the water was refreshing. I left my apartment that morning with the intention of spending the day with myself writing or sketching. But while I was sitting on the beach trying to write, a man laid his towel next to mine and asked me if I draw. For the next few minutes I tried to be polite and continued to make light conversation while still trying to return to “Me Day”, but every time I turned back to my work, he would keep asking me questions. It took me a while to realize that maybe I wasn’t suppose to spend the day alone with myself, but just share what I was thinking, whether it was with him or in my notebook. The next 2 hours I had the most honest and refreshing conversation with Max (Massimo) about relationships.
He told me I think too much. He’s right haha.
ciao
also, it feels like summer’s here
Rome for the second time with the school:
Capuchin Crypt was really interesting. Monks who bury the dead in their robes. In the last room it says: “What you are, we once were. What we are, you will become.”
So spooky
Spring break on the island of Kefalonia, Greece.
Great food and sun and water and beaches and friend.
Came back tanner…that was ALL I wanted.
Berlin, Germany
I’m not good at taking lots of pictures when I’m with someone that ALSO doesn’t take a lot of pictures. This Berlin trip was probably one of the most relaxing trips I’ve been on. The weather was so beautiful I couldn’t get myself to go into more museums even if I wanted to. We went to every single park we ran into and napped at every one, and hung out with Michelle choooo = SUCCESS
not photographed: Pho, thai food, curry wurst, best kebab I’ve had, fruity drinks, 4 other museums, chicken shwarma plate, michelle cho.
Ravinj, Croatia
Hvar, Croatia
Hvar is ONE of the 1,185 islands in Croatia. We spent one night here, and I wish we were there longer, but then again, I wish I could stay everywhere longer.
The entire island was deserted because it’s off season, and plus its crazy stormy there right now. Still, it was cool. We saw the spunkiest old asian women walking everywhere, and had dinner at this restaurant with the friendliest owner. He gave us free dessert wine (which he made himself complete with a sliced lemon that came from his own backyard) and free dessert. We stayed there a bit longer than usual, and then around 10 all his Croatian friends came in, and started singing. He explained that his friends come over after work and like to drink and sing. He also told us that he has family all over California, and even a cousin in Pismo Beach who owns a vineyard. It’s such a small world.
Croatians are so friendly. The man who lived below the apartment we rented was the father of the man who rented our apartment to us, and when he saw us he gave us a bottle of white wine, which he also made.
I didnt want to leave.
