Art and Travel

Art and Travel

A while back I was watching TV, as I sometimes do on a weekend morning, and there was a spot on Roman Coffee.  This got me to thinking.  I was sitting at an outdoor café with the boys on our very first day in Rome and I took a picture of the lovely mocha-colored foam in a small cup and saucer.  This enticingly fragrant and simple cup brought to mind many remembrances.  How many of these have I consumed here, I thought?  Could I really count them?  All those cups floated past me in a long, dancing line and I was reminded of the elephant dance in that Disney Movie.  Cappuccino on Parade???

But back to the point.  Roman Coffee is great!  They say it’s the water.  I say it is just being in Rome.  Standing at the counter with other Romans in their chic clothes and hats and scarves, the women walking in high-heeled boots everywhere.  I in my Crocs or my Keenes, because I have bad feet from too many years of walking in high-heeled boots everywhere.  But I don’t give my shoes too much thought, since I don’t care what I wear on my feet as long as they are comfortable.  I don’t need to look like the Romans.  But I do need to feel like them.  I need to feel what they feel as they stand at the counter sipping their hot coffees.  I need to experience these energies, to know that I have walked where they walk, and sat in cafes and chatted with the waiters in my very limited Italian.  (Which basically consists of “Good morning, Cappuccino please, thank you.)  So I stop and I listen.  I close my eyes and breathe deeply to take in all the many scents that surround me, and slowly that essence creeps into me, and I am enveloped in a warm glow.   I like it.  I like sitting there among them and watching and listening, experiencing creation through another pair of eyes. I come to the precipice again, to be filled with the next knowing.  That is where I am, and it is enough.  Until the next time...