June 21 - Poetry Reading in the La Romita Chapel

 I'm feeling guilty for having so much fun tonight. Maybe it was being in a former Catholic Capuchin Monastery, drinking Prosecco, and hearing terrific poetry? Here are a few shots of the gang before the reading. First, Edmund is performing necessary quality control.

I can't help thinking how, at the time I shot this photo, I thought he looked like he was playing a trumpet to call us to the table. Boy, does he know his wine and Prosecco.

Kim and I modeled our outfits from L'aura. It was the first time I can remember somebody loving an outfit I bought so much that she wanted to go to the store. She bought her ensemble off of the same rack, by the same designer. I can't decide if I love her blues or my greens more.

Here's Edmund  & Flower, our other instructor. Kim, Edmund, & Flower have worked together before, and their comaraderie and friendship flowed over to everyone. In the 90+ degree heat at 7:00 p.m., we all started hugging each other's sweaty bodies.

I don't drink much champagne, sparkling wine, or Prosecco any more, but these wines were terrific. I saved a glass for after my reading, as I didn't want to slur any words. Right before we began, someone took this photo with my camera. Only I can see the tension in my forehead, but I'd just do my best and try not to compare myself with anyone else.

I chose to take parts of my Paris Poem, my Zermatt Poem, and a few others that also had pink in them as a through-line. Nobody fell asleep, the last line landed really well, but as I was reading I realized I'd left out too many details that would have made the "sense" of the poem more effective.  The "sound" of the lines? Yes, that was working. 

And my surprise second poem?

Danny C. was interested in playing back-up guitar as I recited "The Suburban College-Educated Female Blues" and found the right beat and key as we sat in the small room behind the chapel. Instantly. The guy is a genius. My daughter emailed a copy of the song to me, I picked the three still-pertinent stanzas, and acted like I sang/chanted with a famous blues guitarist all of the time. SO FUN. Everyone laughed a lot at the end.

And so, the reading continued and I had a glass of Prosecco as my anxiety diminished. We'd bring the wine to the Scopa Table and the rest of our snacks for one last time. Many people wanted to leave so that they could finish packing, but nobody left. We lingered on, talking and laughing and singing along with Danny and Kim, whose harmonica playing amazed us all. 

I never thought I'd like traveling in a group, or being part of a tour, but this trip is changing my mind. It's so fun when you're with people who love poetry, words, and conversation. I'm realizing the adjustment back to the real world in San Ramon is going to be really, really difficult. 

Here, somebody was up in the morning when I went to make a cup of coffee. Many one on one or two on one conversations about everything imaginable occurred without advanced planning. I learned who needed to grab a cup and return to their room, a good reminder that not everyone is as fired up in the morning as I am. When I had that kind of energy, I'd just find Danielo's dog and play catch. His little tail never stopped wagging. 

I do like planning my own tour and selecting exactly what I want, but there's something to be said for letting another hold the reins. To sit back in a Mercedes van/bus and let Luciano drive was just about as luxurious as could be. I'll get up early tomorrow morning with the others and make sure I can thank him for his excellent driving and tutoring in Italian via pronouncing road signs. I think I have a decent accent now, but boy do these Italians speak quickly.