to share, to hear, to listen, to discover, to learn . . . continuously
- Name: bellevoce
- Location: California, United States
Yes, "bellevoce" does not match the title of my blog. This near-Italian username stems from a play on words of my childhood nickname of Elle in combination with the Italian translation of "beautiful voice (bella voce)." My mother coined this name for my first email address and I have come to love it for its root in my Italian heritage and remembrance of my childhood.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Instructions: Please click on fig. 1.1 and view fig. 1.2 for full comprehension
I came to England hoping for rain, clouds, and the cold. London was surprisingly warmer than expected, but upon my first step into the climate of Coventry, I was assailed by a piercing cold. But I’ve think that I’ve acclimated since I’m still wearing only one layer of clothing rather than three that I was expecting. Over the weekend, I wished for the cold and rain. And today is a wonderfully moody day. Hence, I’m actually writing a blog post, imagine that. (Now if just my other wishes will come true ;)
As I sat with my feet propped up on my desk (see fig. 1.2) and read Salman Rushdie’s Shame, I pondered upon the differences of my uni experience in the UK v the US. How is life going to change upon my return to the states? Will I be satisfied? Am I the same person as 6 months ago?
There are obvious answers to all these (and those not stated, yet lying in the unconscious) questions.
1) I will not be going out every night as I am used to here. I won’t be clubbing two nights a week. I won’t have regular cricket practice. I won’t go to the pub any time that I am bored in the evening. My school will definitely not have sponsored drinking game nights. People won’t contribute to discussions in class as readily (yes, I still am attending classes).
2) But I will still be satisfied I think. This is one of the first weekends here that I have actually stayed and relaxed. It reminds me of spending Saturdays in my room at school with a mocha and my schoolwork. Instead of going to packed, sweaty clubs with cheesy music every other song and virtually no hip-hop, I will be chillin’ with friends at their apartments, solidifying my growing love of Riversidians.
3) I will not be the same person. But I don’t think that this change is due to the process of living in another country; rather, that of simply not dying, thus developing further due to availability of oxygen and nutrients. Of course I’m not the same person as 6 months ago, neither are you, dear reader, although it could be contested that this is not a development, but a degeneration due to entropy. But I digress.
I wanted to conclude with a phrase similar to “two different spheres, two different lives” in reference to the drastic differences between these three months and those upon my re-entry to the states. However, that is too dualistic. There is an infinity of spheres, perhaps to the 23rd power…
(yes, this started out much more coherent than it finished, I will give you that)
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Thursday, October 16, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
I’m in the air – literally. I don’t know where in particular I’m flying over, probably Northern California or Utah right now. We just turned to the North and the cabin fills with golden sunlight. By golden, I mean that glorious color when the sun has about an hour until it sets. It’s the gold that you have to step outside to be bathed in its beauty no matter what you are doing. I glance out the window and the terrain below looks like a ruffled evening gown – a sage colored satin beneath a delicately sheer teal tulle. Unfortunately, with the direction we’re heading, the sun is setting rapidly. I crane my head now to catch the last glow of the sun before it’s gone over North America. The horizon burns like a cooling ember – no longer on fire, but trying to stay lit for just a moment longer. The evening dress below no longer enchants my eyes; it has turned into the desert it truly is. Where am I in the sky? The sun is gone, only a dull grey remains, like my heart.
-Written on board British Airways Flight 0282 September 16, 2008
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