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Macaulay Students Learning…Elsewhere!

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Eulogy for my Grandfather May 10, 2012

For 23 years – my entire life – my grandfather has been one of the greatest sources of strength in my life. No matter the occasion, he could always be counted upon to provide stability, keeping us tied to the real world – encouraging us to dream ever higher while simultaneously keeping us planted firmly in reality. In short, he was the very definition of the rock upon which our family has been built, and just as rocks may give way to countless pebbles while retaining their integrity, so my grandfather’s life has been the foundation of lives led by three amazing children, their spouses, and seven grandchildren who he could not have loved more or been more proud of.

Had it not been for his belief in America, the American Dream and American ideals, perhaps none of us would be here today. Indeed, none of us would be here had my grandfather not had the foresight and desire to see his progeny live lives that were impossible in the old world – lives defined by individually-based success, achieved regardless of one’s past and independent of the successes of one’s ancestors; lives defined by outstanding scholastic success – where no one ever gets left back; lives defined by beauty, both inner and outer; lives defined by a compassion that knows no bounds, where whatever is in one’s power is used without question in helping loved ones; lives defined by a companionship and love for one’s partner that permeates through every cell in their bodies, creating relationships that last into eternity and are the envy of many a people.

These, of course, are the intangibles of life – the things we cannot define with one simple example, that we cannot touch, see, or hear, that we may only feel in order to understand. In looking through our pictures and memories over the past week or so, however, we’d inevitably see one or more of four very beautiful and very real things with him: a smile upon his face, a glass of wine in his hand, a grandchild or his amazing and wonderful wife – my Nonna – by his side.

Where such things – both the tangibles and intangibles – define a man’s life, you’ll find a man who has led an amazing, successful life. It seems only fitting, then, that all of us – the pebbles grown into rocks, as it were – might honor him by forming a new foundation steeped in the values of the rock our family had been built upon all those years ago.

Goodbye for now, Nonno – we’ll love and miss you always.

The Semester After… May 9, 2012

your study abroad.

Like so many college students I find myself at the end of a long semester. As I prepare for finals, I also reflect on how this semester has been different from others. Last semester I was in Melbourne Australia, adjusting not only to a new country but to different educational practices, especially different academic expectations. But these thoughts are not about my semester abroad but rather about the first semester home after being abroad.

Studying abroad has three stage: pre-, during and post-.

Endless Manifesto May 9, 2012

Endless Manifesto 

Size: 6X6 ft.

Material: Charcoal, acrylic paint.

“Ok, I said, it is time to evaluate the difference between the things we have and the things we want. I want that — it — you — maybe. I want go, stay, inconclusiveness, and confusion. I want to write endless manifestos that declare one thing, which inevitably leads to another. I want security and reassurance to cover some of that daddy issue. Ask me if I love you and let me ask you, 10 times a day, if you love me and miss me. I want you to be a tad bit dramatic about how much you need me in your life. That’s it…”

What I Will Miss About Florence May 6, 2012

20+ things that I will miss about Florence, after 6 months of living here.

1. Having gelato at 10:45 P.M because the gelateria closes at 11 P.M.

2. Eating lampredotto (cow stomach) and trippa (tripe) sandwiches, yet still look sexy in the eyes of Italian men.

3. Having wine in the morning, noon, afternoon, and night with breakfast, lunch, and dinner. No AA meeting required.

4. Making gourmet dinners with friends, using .40 cent pasta, € 2.40 wine, .99 cent pasta sauce, .79 cent baguette from Conad, while chuckling at how Mario Batali we all have became.

5. Fully understood why “… when the sun hits your eyes like a big pizza pie, that’s amore.” 

6. Saying when in Rome, when in Rome.

7. Having a brioche or cornetto (croissant) with a cappuccino at 9 A.M in a bar because no Italian would do that after 10.

8. Buying 10 artichokes for €1 during the season at the market.

9. Kissing on both cheeks while saying Ciao, Buongiorno, or Buonasera because I look like a local doing it.

10. Riding my bike while talking on the phone and wearing heels on cobblestone streets. Without wearing a helmet.

11. Putting prosciutto, mozzarella, and tomatoes on a freshly-baked focaccia, while thinking that people outside of Italy have no idea what a real sandwich tastes like.

12. Using the Duomo as a landmark to get home from a night of dodging creepy men on the street.

13. Hiking up the Piazza di Michelangelo without sweating, while calling it Mike’s Piazza. Like a boss.

14. Always on a constant search for the best — gelato, panino, vino, pasta, pizza, ristorante, bar, cafe’, etc…

15. Using YOLO and Cinco de Mayo as reasons to make every unjustifiable action a justifiable one.

16. Wearing Converse and Toms to the club, because — really — no one cares.

17. Starting a sentence with Allora because saying “OK” is so back in the States.

18. Having a constant fear of going back to America, because the food and wine can’t be half as good.

19. Making risotto at home because it is so easy, why would you order it at a restaurant?

20. Walking by the real gypsies while singing “I’m a gypsy…” by Shakira.

21. Buying plane tickets from Ryan Air because €7 can get you a one-way ticket to Ibiza, Paris, Barcelona, etc… and €40 can get you back to Pisa, Bologna, and other places outside of where you actually live.

22. “I’m staying in Florence this weekend because the train station is having yet another strike.”

23. “Oh, you still HAVEN’T SEEN the real David yet? He is HUGE!”

24. Having a picnic at a 16th-century garden because it is a lazy day.

25. Giving nicknames to Renaissance artists like Michel and Leo.

26. Giving up on the idea of working out because my weight will shed when I get back home.

27. Looking at the sunset over the Arno while contemplating La bella vita.

Linguistics Tutorial: Syntactic Trees May 3, 2012

Following the well-received tutorial video I made last year about phonetics, I made this short introduction to drawing syntactic trees.

Enjoy!
Lilach

God Bless the Little Crayola May 3, 2012

I was reading The New York Times yesterday, and I accidentally stumbled upon an article on children drawing the news. Out of a Facebook habit, I started to read the top comments from the readers, and one in particular stood out to me. From Manhattan, New York, Perley J. Thibodeau wrote, “God bless their little crayolas.”

And really, God bless the little Crayola, because we all have tried to launch back into our childhood — searched through it — to figure out who we are today. We look back at the scratchy lines outside of the border. We dive into the pool of Jazzberry Jam, Purple Mountain’s Majesty, and Unmellow Yellow. We ransack whatever we have left inside ourselves, so we can put the pieces together and hold on to our past, present, and future.

So this is a homage to the little Crayolas that have helped us express ourselves, in ways that words could not encompass. This is a “Thank You For Everything You Have Done” note card to — Paper, Charcoal, Markers, Color Pencils, Crayons, Walls, and Sidewalks — for giving us a fortress to come back to, in time of adulthood.

One Comma April 23, 2012

While working on my painting for a contest under the theme of “Beyond Graffiti,” I found these lines going over and over in my head. Words and colors. Words and colors. Words and colors.

One Comma

Words – I said to him in 2 lines, one comma, and one period

Words have no meaning,

Words have no meaning.

Until the moment that he looked at me

Hands on his left hip, head tilted 20 degrees to the right

Legs slightly protruding half inward and half outward

He said to me,

In his international accent of inability to care,

You talk like your mother

So I keep on going through life

Using those exact 2 lines, one comma, and one period

To tell him, and the likes of him

That I,

In my hoarse, rollercoaster voice

That I got colors tattooed across my body with my signature under it

Deep, blinding yellow for 35 degrees Celsius under the Equatorial sun

Fields of never-ending greens and orange of poverty, napalm, separation, and lineal unification

Red for the bodies that are buried by the World Bank’s debts and US’s “provoked” intervention

But I had blue, for hope.

And he told me again,

That I sound like my mother

So I looked at him and whispered,

At least, I still have a motherland. 

JFEW Spring Retreat- 2 April 22, 2012

This year’s JFEW Spring Retreat was as inspiring and relevant as last year’s event (previous post): We kicked off the day with a session led by Ben Messner about “Strengths,” focusing on directing our lives based on our greatest talents. We had all taken an online evaluation that defined our top five strengths and during the session we learned how to use those words to articulate how our particular strengths can benefit us in our professional lives.

The cohort of motivated and ambitious JFEW scholars were then treated to a dialogue with MHC’s Macaulay Honors College Dean Kirschner and Shelley Fischel. They shared their educational and career paths, contrasting the “driller” vs. “gypsy” approach to building a career. A “driller” being one who remains in one job and goes deeper into that particular field for many years, developing an expertise in a niche and a tight-knit, internal social network, while the “gypsy” stays in one place and with one interest for a short time and then hops off to the next new and exciting project, forming many and varied professional relationships. I enjoyed listening to these two successful women recount their joys and struggles of being both accomplished professionals and dedicated mothers.

The day ended with a conversation with two MHC and JFEW alums who shared their own experiences navigating the world and their careers following graduation. Sasha and Catherine were open about sharing both their educational and professional trajectories as well as their personal journeys to where they are now.

Being a part of a supportive, motivated, and self-aware group of young women strengthens my own convictions in my own abilities and strengths. The retreat served as a surge of empowerment and a testament to the culture of support found in JFEW and MHC.

Thanks to all involved.
Lilach

Passover in Jerusalem! April 22, 2012

Spending pesach with my family in Israel is something I’d never done before and was incredibly special. I hadn’t seen my grandparents in over 2 years, my brother, sister and adorable nieces in more than a year. Skype is great and having video chats made it that at least my little nieces recognized me and knew who I was, but sharing physical space and being able to steal a potato off of my sister’s plate reminds me that while technology connects us, it’ll never replace the real thing.

Enjoy the video and follow the links to see more!

Lilach

Comment Question: What kind of technology do you think falls short of reality?

To the Him of Yesterday April 1, 2012

We had been walking together for the past fifteen minutes without speaking to each other. Sentences were left broken with excuses like you won’t understand and no explanation needed.  He looked at me once in a while when my cough distracted him from his own thoughts. His silence suppressed my ability to breathe, as he tried hard to make everything seemed normal.

There was nothing left to say between us. Our story is a mixture of an useless Romeo and Juliet plot, and an anti-climatic ending to “A Walk to Remember.” I wanted to apologize to him for how things had turned out, yet every bone in my body refused to give my jaw the energy to do so. From the way he looked at me, I knew that he understood what had happened. It was the natural push-and-pull theory; he tried to make the relationship work while I found reasons to run away from his protectiveness. He wanted me to be there indefinitely, while I wanted to stay temporarily without a contract.

We had talked for hours before on the possibility of spending our lives together. I have nodded and cooed back to every I love you. I had let my future plans go in his presence. For a year and a half, I wanted to make him the reason for living  — but failed to do so with every trip I took abroad.

Being there with him that day, after a thousand things had gone wrong, was my apology to him in the slightest effort. It was the unspoken and underrated sorry of how I had wasted his time with my disappearance and my selfish talks.

I am writing this now, and will again in the future, in hope that he might stumble upon this tiny letter of confession. I want to contain in this my faults, so by chance, he would understand that nothing was wrong with him… for I did love him in ways that should be flashed with warning signs of construction ahead. It is also a letter of hope — for forgiveness and for a future, in which he will someone new to spend countless hours with.

The Hunger Games: Review March 23, 2012

Being a recently converted Hunger Games fanatic, I went to see the midnight showing of the film last night with my siblings and best friend. There are bound to be a million reviews about the movie and it’s relation to the book, but I figured I’d throw my two cents in anyway.

Before I go any further, I have to say that I am reviewing the movie as a companion piece to the book. It is frankly, impossible for me to do otherwise having read the series so recently and being such a fan. Were I to review the movie idependently, I might be more critical (it faced many of the problems that movies adapted from books have to deal with, such as reduced character development, because it assumes most viewers have read the novel(s)).

My verdict: it’s probably the best adaptation of a book I’ve seen. As long as you come in understanding that they have to cut and condense parts of the novel in order to fit everything into a ~2hour movie without sacrificing quality, you should be pretty pleased.

(SPOILER ALERT – Don’t read on unless you’ve read the book AND scene the movie)

What I didn’t like:

In the process of cutting and condensing, they significantly lessened the mortal peril faced by Katniss and Peeta. Katniss is hardly injured by the explosion of the Career’s food supply, Peeta’s injury is healed rather quickly, and the cut Katniss sustains while getting Peeta’s medicine is not serious.  Considering that the film does a good job of conveying the brutality of the games when it comes to all of the other tributes (without getting too gory) I was disappointed by this.  I think more could have been done to make you seriously fear for their lives (or well-being) as you do in the novel. I still remember thinking that Katniss was going to have to survive without hearing in her left ear forever (and was, perhaps naïvely, surprised when The Capitol healed this). In addition, Peeta being in mortal peril for a shorter period of time meant he and Katniss were together for a shorter period of time, and I would have liked to see more of them together to more firmly establish their relationship. The New York Times review somewhat echoes my critique:  the film “rarely suggests the terrors Katniss faces.” (Read the full review here.)

The segment of the film I had the biggest issue with was the ending. Through the fight with the mutts (which are not as depicted in the book, because really, how would they possibly accurately convey the terror of the fact that they had the eyes of the fallen tributes?) I was very happy with how the film was going. Then the announcement came that there could only be one winner. In the book, Peeta goes to throw his knife away and Katniss misinterprets his movement, putting a bow to his heart. This, to me, was a heartbreaking scene that clued the reader (and, I thought, President Snow) into Katniss and Peeta’s true relationship: despite Katniss’ growing feelings for Peeta, she is not in love with him as he is with her. This short moment is skipped in the film, and I didn’t understand why.

Then, right before the end of the novel Peeta and Katniss have a fight before their public appearance in District 12, as Katniss reveals she has been playing a part and is not really in love with Peeta. This fight never happens in the movie. There is an exchange of dialogue:

Peeta: What happens now?

Katniss: We try to forget this ever happened.

Peeta: I don’t want to forget what happened.

(Or something like that).

Then it cuts to them standing in front of a crowd at District 12. This, in addition to the short amount of time Katniss spends with Peeta in the movie overall means that the film gives a slightly different picture of the Katniss-Peeta relationship than the novel does. [EDIT: In retrospect, I realize they may have been saving this fight (or something like it) for the opening of Catching Fire, which would make sense to me.]

The moments between these scenes are drastically shortened as well – we see very little of the final interview between Katniss and Peeta, and the interview is quite different from the novel version, which I think is much stronger. Of course, one is almost always going to prefer the book to the movie, but the instances where I can’t understand why the changes were made bother me the most.

However, as I said at the beginning, I really enjoyed the movie! These problems I had all occurred within the last ten minutes of the film. So now, what I really liked:

The tone of the film was beautifully matched to the book, and the fact that it was from Katniss’ perspective was conveyed better than I could have expected. There are lovely, short and sweet flashbacks to her father’s death, her mother’s withdrawl, and Peeta giving her the bread. I’ve heard complaints about these from people who haven’t read the books, but again, I’m looking at the movie as a companion piece. After Katniss is stung by the tracker jackers the film is disoriented to give the audience a sense of what she is feeling. Moments before the games have muted sound that covey the numbness Katniss is feeling as she tries to come to terms with whats happening, or her stage fright during her first interview. After the explosion in the games, there are a couple of minutes where the only noise is the ringing in Katniss’ ears. As I said above, I never felt like Katniss and Peeta were in danger the way I did in the novel, though my anxiety for them before the games was greater than it had been in the novel. The violence of the games outside of these two characters is showcased well without glorification (or anything that would have endangered the PG-13 rating).

The casting was great – not only for the leading three, but for all of the supporting characters. Tthough I’m not on the Jenniffer Lawrence train, I wouldn’t go as far as the NYT did and call her performance “bland” – I thought she did a fine job. Liam Hemsworth (Gale) honestly didn’t really get enough screen time to seriuosly judge his acting chops, but again, a fine performance. The winner of the three leads was for me, Josh Hutcherson (Peeta), who I thought completely embodied his character. However, the cast of supporting actors was especially superb – Elizabeth Banks makes a wonderfully comedic Effie, Donald Sutherland (one of my favorite actors) makes a chillingly calculating and brutal President Snow, Woody Harelson is a perfect fit for Haymitch, Lenny Kravitz is captivating as Cinna, Stanley Tucci is hilarious and completely convincing as the host of the games, and the added character, the game master, Seneca Crane, is well done by Wes Bentley. The child actors who play Rue and Primrose (Amandla Stenberg and Willow Shields) also do a fine job (a relief, since it can sometimes be especially difficult to find adequate child actors).

Though the Capitol was not as I pictured it, I think it was beautiful and wonderfully done, and true to the novel. The same goes for the other settings: District 12 and the setting for the games themselves. Perhaps nothing could have accurately replicated the beautiful costumes Katniss and Peeta wear before the games, but the movie made a good effort.

I loved that the movie version allowed us to go places we couldn’t in the novel, such as the room where the game maker controls the games, which looked like a futuristic NASA control room.  I also loved the incorporation of a couple of events that do happen during the time frame of the first novel but that the reader doesn’t find out about until Catching Fire (riots in District 11, the death of the game master on the President’s orders).

Some specific scenes I enjoyed that I haven’t yet mentioned:

I was surprised at how well the cave scene was done. Though it may verge on cliché even in the novel it is actually somewhat better handled in the movie because it is shorter. Katniss first kisses Peeta on the cheek and it seems tentative and forced, prompting a note from Haymitch: “You call that a kiss?” The second kiss is a result of this prompting but perhaps something more. Then when Peeta tells the story of his crush on Katniss, he rushes through it in an earnest, desperate way that is very believable, considering he thinks he may soon die and wants Katniss to understand the truth (and they are still teenagers – they can be melodramatic if they want, though I’m not sure what’s melodrama in a literal fight to the death).

(There is a later scene in the cave not in the books where Peeta is applying salve to Katniss’ head – not such a fan of this, as it’s painfully awkward in a bad way, but it’s thankfully its a short scene.)

The moment between Katniss and Peeta that I really loved was after his recovery when they are hunting/gathering. Peeta makes a joke about taking Katniss’ arrow. It takes her a moment to understand he is kidding, but then she smiles, which is rare in the movie and rarer during the games, and it’s great to see that Peeta can bring that out of her. Then there is the moment when Katniss thinks Peeta has died, and she yells at him for scaring her and picking the nightlock. Though Katniss may not be in love with him, she has certainly come to care for him, and this scene is well done and conveys that information.

Finally, Rue’s death was beautifully done. Katniss’ distraught afterward is harrowing, and this is probably the highlight of the movie in terms of Lawrence’s acting.

I’m so excited for Catching Fire, but in the meantime I’m definitely planning on seeing the move again (and then probably re-reading Catching Fire and Mockingjay).

Happy Hunger Games!

Speech BANANA! March 18, 2012

When my teacher asked, “Who knows what a speech banana is?” I giggled and then went home to share the giggles in this video.
Enjoy,
Lilach

Note: My video was tweeted by ASHA (American Speech-Language-Hearing Association) and added to ASHA’s pintrest board!

My Favorite…Holiday! PURIM! March 8, 2012

A costume holiday spent eating and exchanging food packages with friends, plus non-stop eating of said food packages, plus a holiday meal?!?!?! I’m in!! Purim is my favorite holiday!

You know I’m a fan of DIY (Do it Yourself,) so I put together this simple peacock themed costume, mostly as an excuse to wear these amazing earrings! Some thought I actually looked like a turkey- woops. But hey- here’s pictures so you could decide what you think. Leave a comment!

This year’s costume winner was Waldo!
Here’s my best friend dressed up as Waldo, very convincingly, might I add. I stole her awesome glasses for the picture though.

I stole Waldo's glasses!

Can you find Waldo?!?

Later, I saw a whole family dressed as Waldo’s and I hope they weren’t too frightened when I pointed excitedly and said, “FOUND YOU!!!”

 
Purim in Brooklyn is still the most amazing thing about living here. Last year, I made a more representative video of how great it is. Check it out here: (plus last year’s DIY costume!)
Well, the day for me was really about spending time with family, friends and celebrating happiness!
Lots of smiles!
Lilach

Italy Project: They Made Men Differently in Movies March 5, 2012

I live 2 minutes away from the Leather Market of Florence — a place notorious for its genuine leather goods, fake Pradas, and an intense air of testosterone floating overhead. Walking through these cobblestone streets as a woman is a feat worth mentioning, even for a New Yorker who is used to the whistling of Jackson Heights, the pst… of Upper Manhattan, and the what’s-up-ma of Atlantic Avenue.

When I was younger, I dreamt of moving to Italy to live la dolce vita. My dream home would be on the Amalfi Coast; my dream husband would have olive skin and a voice that would sweep monotony off her feet. I dreamt of traveling through the countryside on a Vespa, while stopping at irregular intervals for a picnic. Break the bread and uncork the wine, I was ready to trade the Empire State of Mind for That’s Amore.

Now that I am here, I wonder if this is the same dream that I was searching for. Could the unrealistic portrayal by the media, the cultural differences between the East and the West, the economic and political downfall in Italy be accounted for the sadness that I feel when I hear Tarantula songs being played from the loud speaker?

Walking down the streets of Florence now ignites a dreadful feeling inside my stomach. How many steps will I need to take before I hear the unmistakable intonation of “Cinese!” from the mouth of an Italian, Armenian, or Romanian man on the street? Can I count to ten before hearing “Ko-ni-chi-wa” or “Ni-hao” being hurled my way? Will they eventually realize that I am a different type of Asian? How many more steps can I take before a man jumps in front of me, winks at me, grabs me by the arm, spits on me, asks me on a date, undresses me with his eyes, puts his hand on my thigh, or smears his vulgar English phrases on me to get my attention?

How much further do I have to go until their voices stop to linger and their smirks stop to show?

Putting my biases aside, I know that these experiences do not mirror the Italian culture or its people, for racial slurs, chauvinism, and sexual harassment are common throughout the world. Many Italian women have repeatedly told me that “real Italian men are not like this. They must have been Armenians or Romanians.” Yet these experiences have undoubtedly changed my understanding of Italy. Now, I plan to read more on Italian border control, Italian race/gender relations, Italian employment rate, and Italian politics to have a better understanding of where I am and who I am standing up against.

If this is Amore, can I still have my Empire State back?

Missing Australia! March 3, 2012

Italy Project: Every Road Leads to Rome March 1, 2012

I saw a small part of Rome in 4 days and 3 nights.

With a pair of heels and 53 hours of constant walking, I saw Rome through the eyes of a devotee making her first pilgrimage to the land of ruins, art, and history. Rome was so much like Florence, and nothing like it. Rome has its own air of fierezza — its own boldness and pride — that goes beyond the “forza Roma” of football chants and Vespa.

The city is frozen in time with the juxtaposition of Gucci shops and crowded buses, among the countless tourists who snap 100 pictures per minute to document Rome in her glory. Colosseum, check. The Vatican, check. The Trevi Fountain, check. The Pantheon, check. What do you really see in Rome, uncheck.

The usual touristic sites are regurgitated in every travel guide, and all of them worth visiting. My Bed & Breakfast was 10 minutes away from the Vatican, so I was lucky enough to see the almost-empty St. Peter’s Square at sunrise, and the Basilica without waiting in line.

Give yourself at least half a day at the Vatican Museum to fully enjoy the progression of art since Antiquity, and the Sistine Chapel.

When your watch strikes 12:30AM, start making your way to the more-tranquil Trevi Fountain, where magic goes beyond coin throwing and wishes.

If your shoes are made for walking, find your way towards the Spanish Steps and take a deep breath while you are at the top. Here is where you can see the streets of Rome running far into the horizon.

The next morning, when the sun has settled down, find yourself feeling overwhelmed with the Colosseum and the Roman ruins.

Then have your lunch at the Campo dei Fiori market, or pack it to-go for your picnic at Isola Tiberina.

After your picnic, navigate your way towards the Pantheon and look up at the sky through the ocular to feel like you, too, are part of history.

Before leaving Rome, you should wait in line for the delicious, freshly baked pastries and huge slices of pizza from Dolce Maniera on Via Barletta, 27. It is a 5-minute walk from the Vatican.

Say bye to Rome in the afternoon and catch train back to Florence to experience the romantic sunset over the Tuscan land.

Now cross your fingers and hope that your wish at the Trevi Fountain comes true, because 4 days and 3 nights in Rome are not enough.

My Favorite…Australia Photos. February 24, 2012

This week the Brooklyn College Honors Lounge held its annual Travel Art show. Students who traveled, studied, and volunteered abroad shared pictures and stories with each other. Plus, a cultural potluck! Out of approximately 2,000 digital photos that took  in Australia, I chose five that reflected how inviting Melbourne was by choosing photos that emphasized perspective.

It was really nice to have a time and place to share stories, adventures and pictures with each other and to have my photos included in the Art Show.

Italy Project: Venice Itinerary February 19, 2012

3 days and 2 nights in Venice can’t be enough.

February 10 – 12, 2012. 

There is a well-known romanticism about Venice in the summer — the gondola rides, dinners on the Grand Canal, and the sunsets over the Rialto Bridge. Yet, Venice at 3 °C below 0 has an air of tranquillity and magnetism that the hot weather can’t be compared to.

I went to Venice during the second weekend of Carnevale, hoping to catch the masquerade and the countless nobilities in their costumes. On a 17 euro train ticket, I took the 4:30AM train from Florence and got to Venice at 9:10AM. “It’s freezing outside,” the man with a Russian fur hat said. Bracing myself for the cold, I stepped off the train with excitement running through every vein in my body. “Venice,” I whispered it under my tongue as I put on my gloves and headed for the Grand Canal.

My first time seeing Venice was in her white snow coat, with small blocks of ice over the Grand Canal. I took the Vaporetto (Ferry) to an apartment that I have rented for the weekend, before I started my weekend of getting lost around Venice.

Venice, 11:30AM on 2/10/2012

*Get a Museum Pass for 20 euro for 11 museums.

-Visit the Piazza San Marco and you will see the flowing fountain of wine, the Correr Museum, the Doge’s Palace, the National Archeological Museum, the Grand Chambers of the Marciana National Library, and the St. Marco’s Basilica. Stand in line, if necessary, to see the golden mosaic dome inside St. Marco’s church.

-Walk to the Grand Canal

-End the night with a hot chocolate and/or a Vin Brule (spiced hot wine) at Caffe’ dei Frari in San Polo 2564 

Venice, 9:00AM on 2/11/2012

-Visit the Rialto open market for fresh vegetable, meat, and seafood 

-Check out the Peggy Guggenheim. The museum was, at one point, Peggy’s actual home.

-Ride the #1 ferry for a tour of the Grand Canal

-Visit Ca’ Rezzonico off the S. Toma’s ferry stop for an amazing collection of Renaissance paintings. Go to the top floor and look out the windows for a beautiful view of Venice.

-Go to Piazza San Marco to watch the masquerade and people dancing in masks

Venice, 10:52AM on 2/11/2012

-Train departure from Venice to Florence.

*Due to the excessive snow all over Europe that weekend, my friends and I had to leave Venice early in the morning since many trains were cancelled. On our way from Bologna to Prato, our train was hit by falling rocks inside a tunnel. Many windows were cracked and one shattered. We had to wait for 2 hours and a half before the train was fit to move again. An Italian guy in his mid-twenties scoffed and said to me, “It’s an Italian problem. We are not just pasta and wine, are we?”

Ciao Venice, until we meet again.

Falling for Venice February 19, 2012

The coldest days in Venice — February 2012. 

“Modern Woman” February 8, 2012

Scratches February 2, 2012

Scratches 

Materials: Acrylic paint on plastic

Portrait #3 February 2, 2012

Portrait #3 

Materials: Acrylic paint on Fabriano paper

Italy Project: La Politica Italiana February 2, 2012

“Love life. Hate the banks.” 

Nutella & Oishi February 1, 2012

I was introduced to Nutella as a kid when I lived in Ha Noi, Viet Nam. It was a commodity then, in the late 1990′s, when Vietnam opened up its market to foreign investments and products. I remember walking through the supermarket aisles — with my mouth wide open — wishing that I could try every foreign product on the shelves. With my mother’s inability to say no to her children when it came to food, I got my hands on Pringles chips and pretzel sticks before they were sold at corner deli’s. Without tasting them all, I made up my mind that nothing could come close to Nutella!

Sometimes, my mother would spread this smooth substance onto a Vietnamese baguette for an occasional breakfast, lunch or dinner. When she wasn’t at home, though, I would take a spoonful of Nutella and slowly savor it until the time called for another one. Its sweet chocolate with skim milk and its addictiveness had solidified my Coke-bottle body shape well into my teenage years.

Being in Italy now, I have surprisingly eaten Nutella only twice: once over a hot, freshly made waffle and another with my roommates over out-of-the-fridge whole grains bread. Both experiences were undoubtedly amazing, yet my childhood addiction is reduced to a fragment of what it used to be. Being so far away from home now, my taste buds yearn for the semi-salty taste of cá kho tộ, the sweet broth of phở with medium-rare meat, and the crunch of rau muống xào tỏi with rice.

Last night, walking home from the art studio, I stumbled upon an Asian market with udon noodles and Oishi shrimp chips, among dried seaweed and cous cous. Tasting Oishi for the first time since I left New York was at once refreshing, after four weeks of everything italiano. With an indescribable excitement, I made myself a bowl of udon soup with mushrooms, cauliflower, and carrots, using my roommate’s chopsticks from Taiwan. For a brief moment, this was home away from home.

Itatiaia January 27, 2012

This past weekend I had the fortune to visit the amazing little town that is href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Itatiaia_(Rio_de_Janeiro)">Itatiaia, known mostly for the 300km2 href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parque_Nacional_Itatiaia">Parque Nacional do Itatiaia down the road. While most gringos head to Ilha Grande if they want to see nature in Brasil, Itatiaia is a relatively undiscovered paradise. Itatiaia is a tiny town of approximately 4k people in the far south of Rio state. Though many of the residents assured me that the town receives many foreign visitors, we encountered no other gringoes during our entire stay. One of the things that I think makes Itatiaia so special is how relatively isolated it is. Residents were unbelievably friendly. When our group of 8 showed up in the middle of the night in the pouring rain with no plans for accommodations (after having left 1 of our 2 tents on the bus), a Brazilian man and his family noticed our plight and walked with us for 40 minutes until we finally found a pousada that would take us in at a price we could all afford.

The pousada that we stayed at was beyond incredible. The owner gave us an incredible rate of only $R15 per person per night when every other place in town wanted to charge at least R$40. Our first morning, the owner walked us into town to the local bakery to buy bread and cheese for our hikes. The rest of the stay was filled with countless other little acts of kindness, even lending out her sandals to my friend. Although she doesn’t have a website, if anyone ever has a chance to go to Itatiaia I would definitely recommend staying at Pousada Itaúna (24) 3352-5879. By far the most incredible pousada owner I’ve ever encountered.

We hiked in the national park our first two days in Itatiaia. Though the entry fee of R$22 is a bit steep for poor students, it’s worth every penny. Each day we did well over 20km of hiking. The first day we hiked close to the summit of the Três Picos mountains, which are among the tallest in all of Southeastern Brazil. The hike that day was along a trail that hadn’t been maintained years and involved obstacles the entire way up. The trail had numerous points where a slight misstep would have resulted in falling off a steep face but luckily we got through unscathed. The trail finally concluded in an absolutely incredible waterfall at the top that produced a view of all of Itatiaia. We tried to continue to the summit, which we had been told was about another 40 minutes up but the trail turned out to be totally blocked and overgrown past the waterfall. We all emerged pretty beat up but I have to say it’s been one of the most fulfilling things I’ve done since getting here.