Overheard by innocent Italians in Italy who pretend not to understand English: Amy: So, is this where that famous artist is from? Me: Which famous artist? Amy: Pistachio. Me: His name is not Pistachio. Amy: I know. The sweetest morning of record in Venice is the day we take the Vaporetto to the Ponte dell’ Accademia. By now we are buongiorno-ing and grazia-ing … [Read more...]
Mrs. Kent gets lost in Venice, en route to Cow Head.
Venice is to Italy as Venus is to Earth. It’s a completely different planet. Like Venus, Venice’s orbit turns in the opposite direction of other planets. It has been made sacred to the Gods and Goddesses, is the eternal muse for the eternal artist. And no matter how often one may land there, trample all over it, buy it, eat it, ooh and ah over it, no one has ever really truly been to Venice. Oh, Serenissima. Oh, Le … [Read more...]
Mrs. Kent and la Dolce Vita.
The Italian city of Florence has a very special Patron Saint. Her name is Saint ReFrainius. She is the Patron Saint of the Vendors of Firenze. Specifically, she is the Patron Saint of Vendors Who Suffer the Plagues of Bewildered Tourists. The innocent Vendor, upon seeing you, a Bewildered Tourist, approach humbly, map in hand, desperate for directions, will immediately begin to pray. “Oh, dear God, not me, don’t choose … [Read more...]
Mrs. Kent turns a page in Italy.
It is possible there is a more enchanting place balanced somewhere between this world and the next. It is possible there is a more captivating Italian-Beagle-Doggy-Who-Longs-For-Bacon. A place where a little dog and a little Downward Facing Dog can lift your heart. (A certain Italian-Beagle-Doggy-Who-Longs-For-Bacon finally succumbed to my offers of ear scratching and lounged beside me for minutes at a time beside the pool.) It is … [Read more...]
Mrs. Kent and further adventures in Italy en route to Cow Head.
There is a cuckoo bird in Lucca whose sole pleasure is to unleash a wondrous and melodic refrain upon the innocent yogis of Il Borghino. This tiny creature flies many miles to arrive outside our villa each day just before dawn. It then begins to chime, exactly like a Swiss cuckoo clock. Except, unlike a Swiss cuckoo clock, which will only ever chime up to 12 times and then stop, the industrious cuckoo bird of Italy will chime endlessly, ceaselessly, enchantingly on and on and on until … [Read more...]
Mrs. Kent meets a cloud in Lucca.
I am standing on top of a very tall hill in Italy. It is possibly the tallest hill, if not in Italy, then for sure in Lucca. No one can tell me this is not the very tallest hill of all, in all of Lucca, because every time I ask anyone how tall the hill is, no one knows. Therefore, I say it is the tallest hill in all of Lucca because in my sweaty disheveled state it frigging well feels like it. This hill is so tall that there is a thunderstorm at my … [Read more...]
Mrs. Kent Visits The Leaning Tower of Pisa
I am republishing one of my first blogs from Italy, in honour of the opening of my Italy inspired one woman play, "Woman, Naked." So many of the folks I met in Italy turn up in some shape or form in my play. We are at the Leaside Manor opening from Thursday-Saturday, showtime at 7.30 pm. Presales at Eventbrite.ca, or cash at the door. To make sure you can reserve call 754-5800. A fog horn in Italy? What fresh wonder is this? Anything is possible here! Cherubs abound! A … [Read more...]
Mrs. Kent goes to Italy and Cow Head.
Buongiorno! Everything since we began our journey to Italy is a great big wonderful trick. We show up for our security check-through at the airport in St. John’s, resplendent in our resolve to travel with carry-on bags only. That boils down to one carry on and one personal bag each. Whee! We are thrifty souls and have loaded up two large Zip-lock bags (two for each of us, that is) with small containers of shampoos, conditioners, soaps, lotions, … [Read more...]
i heart-like-love-sad-gasp you.
oh dear god. these new emoticons. emoting cons. the angst. should i hit "like"? or should i hit "love". perhaps the smiley face? and what's with that other one. that one looks demented. and the sad face? it doesn't look sad. it looks like evil. it was ok just to "like". wasn't it? even when it was a sad post or a rant, "liking" it meant solidarity. but now. if i hit "love" am i revealing too much? is it too forward? am i wearing my heart on my sleeve? but if i … [Read more...]
balm for the broken hearted.
So I went to the hospital, to emergency, and I had to wait for at least 6 hours, or it could have been 60 years. And finally one of the Nurses spoke to me and she said “What seems to be the problem?” I said, "My heart. I think it’s broken." And suddenly I was surrounded by Nurses and they started shouting out “Stat! Stat! Lady here with a broken heart! Stat!” And they called out “Quick! Get the cart! Get the cart!” And they put me on a gurney and wheeled me so fast through all the … [Read more...]