November 5, 2012
I’ve done a lot of traipsing around the streets of my adopted homeland, snapping away, straggling up and down steps, trying to capture street life in hilly baroque hamlets.
Sicilians seem to think the only folks who should be in front of a camera are brides, kids, and fashion models.
“Me?” they’ll invariably chortle when I ask if I can photograph them. “You wanna shoot me?”
Then they laugh or shrug with a dramatic “why not” gesture. Sometimes they warn that their face will break my camera. Ha ha! A lot of people tell this joke, in fact. Younger folks shout to their friends: “Fay-sa-boook! Fay-sa-boook! She’s going to put me on Fay-sa-boook!
The result of all this tramping and trudging is my new book Sicilians in Baroque Towns. There’s a paper version and an e-book version for the iPad. If you feel so inclined, I’d loooooove your comment on the Blurb page or here. Mille grazie!
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October 31, 2012
By the way, did you know Halloween has Roman roots?
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To my East Coast blog friends: Sending you warm, dry & loving thoughts & may your lives soon return to normal.
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October 25, 2012
Back in the US of A.
There are the elections, of course.
And the cold supermarkets with their tinny music.
Tasteless tomatoes fill me with gloom.
On the roads, the space between cars seems far too wide, and at the post office, the get-in-line folks do not know the joys of shoving, shouting, and huddling together like walruses. And where are the octogenarians? I feel a pang of acute nostalgia. Why aren’t they yakking it up in tight clumps all over town?
At the coffee shop, the barista does not sing buon giorno! as we enter and exit. He barely makes eye contact.
Life feels flat.
And why is everyone proudly claiming (with too-white teeth) that they are slammed? When did this word pop up like evil choke-weed? The fundamental difference between these slammed people and the ones lolling around Italy is not lost on me. Americans seem to conduct their lives on a high-speed conveyor belt; have we lost the will to stop and see?
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October 21, 2012
When I throw open the shutters in the morning, the cupola is there, like a gift.
The color of sweet latte.
It is moody, changeable, capriciosa.
Click on the photo to advance to the next slide.
Note: Slides of the Cathedral of San Giorgio in Ragusa Ibla.
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October 16, 2012
We eat bread in rings around here.
They’re bigger than a bracelet, smaller than a hula-hoop.
About necklace-size, I’d say.
So fragrant and pretty that you could almost wear one around your neck with a little black dress. Nibble on it all evening.
But I must not kid. Like olive oil, bread is sacred here. Never place it on the table upside down. Never throw it away. If it’s old, make breadcrumbs. If it gets moldy, kiss it, make the sign of the cross, and apologize to Jesus.
What food do you worship?
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All photos and text on BaroqueSicily are Copyright of Jann Huizenga ©2009-2015, unless otherwise noted. Material may not be copied or re-published without written permission. All rights reserved.
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