Collections....obsessions, or just things.

Growing up we had very little in the way of "decor" as we know it today.  My Mom kept our home spotlessly clean and the tantalizing smells of her delicious cooking greeted you when you entered the door.

On her kitchen counter she had a set of stainless steel canisters for her sugar and flour and on our kitchen table, a soup tureen which was never used. We had everything we needed in the way of necessity and comfort, but there were no "things" for the sheer sake of having them or for their beauty.

It is no wonder today, that after so many years of having my own home and being a wife and mother, I am sometimes obsessed with finding and filling my space with things that are beautiful and
meaningful to me. 

Over the course of thirty some years, this has translated into many things.

My obsession with pearl handled sterling flatware....

 

blue and white china..... and any colour transferware....

....anything with gold gilt.....

.....acorns.....the symbol of rebirth and renewal.....

....red or pink transferware sourcing, are my serious afflictions...

 

like this wonderful platter which I use only at Christmas and Thanksgiving.

It is Woods, Burslem, English, which I acquired about twenty years ago with twelve matching plates.

 

white ironstone pitchers, green majolica and more silver.

 

...and then there are linens and more silver....

 

and china roses, when I can't get them outdoors.....

...hand painted demitasse cups....and there are a few more things....

Within the next few months we will begin a major renovation to our forty something year old house.  Mr. M. and I have deliberated for some time now about down sizing or staying put.  It appears we can't leave this old place with the garden that needs tending, and the fire flies in June and the sound of the water rushing from Ball's Falls down the way in the spring.  It is the fall of our lives and that of this old house, but we will have to renew and rebuild one more time. What will become of all the things I have collected and cherished this time around?

We shall see.



A Flame Left Burning.

The Cattedrale di Sienna,Duomo, is perhaps the most awe inspiring, magnificent church compared to the Vatican in Rome.  Actually it was built in the early 16th century to rival the Vatican by the wealthy bankers who resided in Sienna, the seat of the first bank of Italy.

It was never completed because the Black Death swept Europe and eradicated most of the population.

I visited Siena, which is only one hour by train, from Florence.

I was totally captivated by what I saw.

It was renamed La Chiesa di Santa Maria del' Assunta.

It is magnificent in every detail, inside and out.

.....lovely pale pink in its perfection.

The black and white striped, marble columns, striking in their simplicity and unexpected stature, in stark contrast to the ornate gold and ormulu interiors.

......the magnificent cupola.....

......every where awe inspiring and jaw dropping beauty, evoking feelings of mystery and incredible wonder!

....a crypt...

and the magnificent organ.

Beautiful putti, everywhere.

...every detail for the eye to linger and record.

 

Our Lady guarded by two gold archangels.

These beautiful and moving words were found by me as I lit my offeratory candle upon leaving.

Loosely translated they say,

" I do not know how to pray, I do not know what to say,
I do not have much time,
then, this light that I offer,
is a piece of my love,
a piece of my time,
a piece of myself,
this light that shines,
will be my prayer
that I shall continue to be, after I leave this place."

An Icon Revisited

This past weekend a wonderful and amazing thing happend while visiting Toronto with my husband, but first, let me start at the beginning. While visiting the beautiful city of Florence, one of the most popular and famous of all places to experience, is the pastry shop called Gilli, located in the Piazza della Repubblica.

Everything about is sheer class. The marble counters, gleaming cutlery, silver napkin holders and quiet elegance felt the minute you walk through the doors.

This lovely putti vase holding fresh flowers on a hand made doily was just one of the little details too delicious to miss!

 

The Piazza della Repubblica is one of the most glorious piazzas in Florence, it is where one goes to see and be seen!!

In the early evening,  the people of Florence embrace the daily ritual of the evening stroll with style and much aplomb. Wearing the lastest fashions, and walking arm in arm, the outside cafe at Gilli has been a must destination for locals as well as tourists for years.

The pastries look like little jewels, perfect in their execution as well as presentation.

Yummm or more aptly buonissimo!!!

Getting ready for the evening rush.

The gelatos are the best in Florence.

....and now for the rest of the story.....

Many of you may be familiar with the famous photo American Girl in Italy taken in 1951 by Ruth Orkin.

The lovely girl's monumental frame drew the Italian men's attention, and her downcast eyes would denote her as a stranger. This photo became one of the most famous photographs of all time, and was taken at the corner of the historic cafe Gilli in the Piazza della Repubblica.

But what is really amazing is that while I was shopping yesterday in Toronto, I picked up a copy of Panoram, a wonderful, new magazine dedicated to preserving Italian culture and traditions, and it is here, from the enlightening article by Anja Karisik that the story resonated with me.Why now??  Why right after coming home from Italy??? from Florence?????  Ninalee Craig, the beautiful American girl in Florence, in the photo is alive and well and living in Toronto!!!!

Miss Craig is now 83 years old, still as poised and lovely as she was then, a patron of the arts, and a wonderful source of inspiration for me, more than she will ever know. Who would think that after my frequent visits to Gilli while in Florence, the rest of the story would unfold for me right here at home.
I try to come away with an experience, a feeling, a wish , an inner lesson learned whenever I travel. This trip to Italy is still unfolding its treasures to me.

Bel Paese

After a little absence of two weeks, returning home from Italy, I decided to write a short personal post.

Normally, I prefer to keep it more of a professional blog rather than a personal one, but I came away from this visit to Italy where I was born with a bitter sweet feeling of sadness as well as happiness.

The two alabaster busts in this photo remind me of my sister and I when we were young. I just had to purchase them at a recent auction, and I am happy to say, they went for a song.

We went to Italy together, with our cousin, who is like our sister.

Our little village where we were born off in the distance, as seen through the leaves of the beautiful olive trees which dot the landscape everywhere.

Our family's property in the foreground as it appears today.Meticulous rows of well tended vines, and those gorgeous cypress trees.

My Mom left for Canada with the two of us to meet our father. The voyage took ten days by ship. I was two years old and my sister Micki was only two months old. She left with only a suitcase, filled with our belongings and a few of her mother's cooking utensils, alone with two little ones.

 

This is our maternal grandmother's house as it appears today, totally abondoned and boarded up.

Look at the beautiful door surround.  It must have been lovely in its day.

A fig tree brimming with fruit, has grown haphazardly out of what used to be the stable. The figs were so sweet and delicious and tasted like honey.

The bell tower of our church, Chiesa di San Martino.

The beautiful stone work and reliefs were still in perfect condition after both wars, and several earthquakes.

 

The old balcony on the house where we were born. I could picture my Mom

standing up there and chatting with her neighbours. 

Our street was called Vico Forno Vecchio, because it was the street of the local village bakery, which was run by our maternal grandfather.

A house similar to ours as it would be restored today. 

This sweet unknown couple, standing together and looking over the Arno in Florence evoked memories of my own parents as they too might have done.  My parents never did revist their homeland together, but this photo opportunity that was presented to me did suffice. I know they would be happy that I had come home to visit.

Bel Paese....beautiful village!