I'm glad you landed safely, if not satisfyingly. It's like the old saying: "The bad news is: nothing lasts forever. The good news is: nothing lasts forever." If you have to move again, come to Las Vegas! This is a great live music town.
I take huge inspiration from your own successful relocation. But it's almost certain there's nothing you don't do brilliantly. A kingdom for your cleverness and adaptability. You're my shero.
Right? I LOVE downtown Houston. I mean, if you have to be here, that's the place to live, in my opinion. It's relatively clean, too, which is a big plus.
It's so good to hear from you, Stacey. Thank you for reaching out from under the morass of it all. We've missed you. All the best to you in this new year for a speedy recovery - pneumonia-free, finally - and for strength and courage to find beauty and feel awe even in the least promising places, even in Houston.
PS - I'm a fan thanks to the beloved late Tony Brophy, who was my headmaster and teacher many decades ago. He turned me onto your Substack when he shared one of your posts on FB and I've read you for years now. I've just moved my family from Boulder, CO, to Rome, where I grew up. But it's been a big shock. Rome is losing its soul - at least the centro storico. It's become yet another item on an Airbnb bucket list port of call with salumerie and fruttivendoli and casalinghi stores all morphed as if by some horrific hallucination into "authentic" 1-2 yr old trattorie, pizza by the slice storefronts, and bars slinging Aperol Spritz no matter the season. It's so depressing. Thankfully, the city is so damn gorgeous still that I drown my sorrows in endless walks on the sanpietrini cobblestones. Every time I read Cappuccino, I fantasize that one day you and Jon will get back to Italy, too. Warm regards.
GIULIA, you are a writer. You know that, right? Not only do you have a writer's facility with the language, you have a writer's soul. Now, I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Being a writer is right up their with being a janitor (same spirit, if you think about it--all we're doing is pushing garbage around), but it's a rare talent, and one that isn't recognized (except by wonderful men like Tony Brophy) because in this world, we know the price of everything and the value of nothing.
THAT SAID...I can't help but be overjoyed that you and your family are in Rome. Yes, Rome is losing its soul. The trash problem alone is horrifying. But, as you say, it's still Rome. My heart yearns to see it again, and if you were to, say, write a book about it, I could see all that beauty again through your eyes.
1. Moldering. 2. Driving endlessly. 3. Trying to get jobs in non-artistic fields, which isn't easy when you've been a freelancer (in one form or another) your whole life, and you're no longer twenty. 4. Cooking.
I don't think there's much of a jazz scene here. John is...dismayed.
I wondered where you went. Now I know: under the knife and into limbo land. Are you sure Houston isn't an hallucination? Sounds like one. Anyway, I was kinda shocked to see your name pop up in my inbox today because it's been a long while. I don't want to be shocked. I want to read Cappuccino at least once a month. Witty words. Wise words. Sharp insights. Finely wrought descriptions. Like the stuff you do, when you do...
Oh, Vian, my friend, it's great to see you here, too. I used to think I could write under any circumstances, including illness and war. Now, I have come to accept my limitations. But the good news is, I DO have a roof over my head, and no one is slicing on me at present, so I think I'm ready for takeoff. I'm bursting with things to talk about. And I feel eight million times better than I have ... well, in years, to tell you the truth.
Seems you are now unburdened...figuratively and literally. This makes me very happy for you (and John too!). I await the flow of your words, like a thirsty man waits for cold water as he turns on the tap. Be well!
SO HOT AND FLAT. Except day. Today, it's in the upper 30s with a depressing steady rain. When Houston goes gloomy, it's not a romantic gloomy, but an ugly, spiteful gloomy.
But seriously, while it has been 25+ years since last I was there, my memory is that they took all of the most dreadful parts of Los Angeles and amplified them. I like to say that L.A. is not a city, it is a growth. My impressions of H is that it is somewhere between a carbuncle and a cancer.
Are those tracks in the street downtown fairly new (as in <25 years?) I don't recall them from the times I was there.
I've probably told this story before about my own surgery, but when they replaced my aortic valve, there was so much crud built up around my heart that they waited 30 hours to button me the rest of the way up. So I went in for surgery at 7:00 AM and they finally brought me all the way out 7:00 PM Tuesday (6 hour surgery, so 36 hours total.) During the time they had me draining, I was no longer on full anesthesia. But I was still intubated, so I was kept on partial. During this time I'd occasionally come out a little and see these people at he foot of my bed having a conversation. It was like they were doing a really bad comedy routine, over and over and over again. I finally realized that I was hallucinating, which made the whole thing not so much annoying as boring. I sort of realized that something was not quite going to plan, but as I wasn't dead it couldn't be all bad.
But yeah, when you're out, you're out. The amazing thing to me has always been how they've got it timed down tot he minute when you will come around.
Gares, I did NOT know that. LORD ABOVE, that sounds horrifying! You're a brave soul. And it's the intubation and its after effects that caused me such pain, not the surgery itself. Was that the case with you, too? I had a sore throat for a month.
I recovered from the intubation fairly quickly, 2 or 3 days as I recall. I still had (small) tubes in me for a week after the surgery. I don't recall anything like an epidural when they came out and stitched me all the way up, but neither was it especially painful. (They then had to come back and stitch me up a second time because I was leaking.)
The scary part came the next day when I tried to read anything. I couldn't even navigate through the address list on my phone except with the most stumbling of unfocusable efforts. By Thursday I could manage a little poetry (I'd brought Yeats with me.) It was Saturday before I could manage to read even a little philosophy. All an artifact of the extremely long anasthesia.
The major pain for me was sneezing with a chest that had been cracked open. That's fucking bracing, let me tell you.
I’m delighted to hear the last chapter is behind you, and your writing again. From Italy, to dildos on subways in NYC, to Houston, your adaptability and strength is to be commended. Bucolic, concrete jungle, and now the south, that’s a lot of culture shock and material to work with. May yours and Jon’s new roots be watered daily with love and happiness in your new environment. I can’t wait to read more about your perceptions through the windows of life. ❤️
Elle and I are REALLY WORRIED about you. When you get a chance, will you let one or both of us know you're okay? Those damn fires. California, ravaged. Where does it end?
Just wrote a whole diatribe and it didn’t take and flew off into the ether I guess. We’re fine, we’re in evacuation stand by. Can’t smell smoke or see any ashes. The wind is blowing towards the ocean. We’re being vigilant. We got two places to go just in case. Spoke with Ellery and exchanged info. We finally got cable and internet back after a day and a half. Thus, messages not being received. Thanks for your concern. You have my number, call anytime. Would love to hear from you. ❤️
You know I agree with that. I have no choice but to let go and let life. It's wonderful being with my kiddos. I draw my strength from that. Thank you, my friend.
I'm glad you landed safely, if not satisfyingly. It's like the old saying: "The bad news is: nothing lasts forever. The good news is: nothing lasts forever." If you have to move again, come to Las Vegas! This is a great live music town.
I take huge inspiration from your own successful relocation. But it's almost certain there's nothing you don't do brilliantly. A kingdom for your cleverness and adaptability. You're my shero.
You're too kind, but thank you. xo
There she is. We’ve missed you
And we miss YOU. Promise me we'll have a nice long phone convo soon, all four of us!
Yes, please!!!
Downtown Houston looks like Third Ave. in Manhattan, sans people and cars but with (light rail?) tracks.
Right? I LOVE downtown Houston. I mean, if you have to be here, that's the place to live, in my opinion. It's relatively clean, too, which is a big plus.
It's so good to hear from you, Stacey. Thank you for reaching out from under the morass of it all. We've missed you. All the best to you in this new year for a speedy recovery - pneumonia-free, finally - and for strength and courage to find beauty and feel awe even in the least promising places, even in Houston.
PS - I'm a fan thanks to the beloved late Tony Brophy, who was my headmaster and teacher many decades ago. He turned me onto your Substack when he shared one of your posts on FB and I've read you for years now. I've just moved my family from Boulder, CO, to Rome, where I grew up. But it's been a big shock. Rome is losing its soul - at least the centro storico. It's become yet another item on an Airbnb bucket list port of call with salumerie and fruttivendoli and casalinghi stores all morphed as if by some horrific hallucination into "authentic" 1-2 yr old trattorie, pizza by the slice storefronts, and bars slinging Aperol Spritz no matter the season. It's so depressing. Thankfully, the city is so damn gorgeous still that I drown my sorrows in endless walks on the sanpietrini cobblestones. Every time I read Cappuccino, I fantasize that one day you and Jon will get back to Italy, too. Warm regards.
GIULIA, you are a writer. You know that, right? Not only do you have a writer's facility with the language, you have a writer's soul. Now, I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Being a writer is right up their with being a janitor (same spirit, if you think about it--all we're doing is pushing garbage around), but it's a rare talent, and one that isn't recognized (except by wonderful men like Tony Brophy) because in this world, we know the price of everything and the value of nothing.
THAT SAID...I can't help but be overjoyed that you and your family are in Rome. Yes, Rome is losing its soul. The trash problem alone is horrifying. But, as you say, it's still Rome. My heart yearns to see it again, and if you were to, say, write a book about it, I could see all that beauty again through your eyes.
Imagine that.
*Blush.*
What can two freelance artists be possibly doing in Houston?
1. Moldering. 2. Driving endlessly. 3. Trying to get jobs in non-artistic fields, which isn't easy when you've been a freelancer (in one form or another) your whole life, and you're no longer twenty. 4. Cooking.
I don't think there's much of a jazz scene here. John is...dismayed.
I wondered where you went. Now I know: under the knife and into limbo land. Are you sure Houston isn't an hallucination? Sounds like one. Anyway, I was kinda shocked to see your name pop up in my inbox today because it's been a long while. I don't want to be shocked. I want to read Cappuccino at least once a month. Witty words. Wise words. Sharp insights. Finely wrought descriptions. Like the stuff you do, when you do...
Oh, Vian, my friend, it's great to see you here, too. I used to think I could write under any circumstances, including illness and war. Now, I have come to accept my limitations. But the good news is, I DO have a roof over my head, and no one is slicing on me at present, so I think I'm ready for takeoff. I'm bursting with things to talk about. And I feel eight million times better than I have ... well, in years, to tell you the truth.
Seems you are now unburdened...figuratively and literally. This makes me very happy for you (and John too!). I await the flow of your words, like a thirsty man waits for cold water as he turns on the tap. Be well!
Nicely written. I hope we get you back here soon.
I'm telling myself things that disappointed people tell themselves, such as "New York City/Italy never leaves you as long as it lives in your heart."
Go with the flow. And appreciate your life. Xo
I've never been to Houston. I visited San Antonio once and I've never been back to Texas since. Too hot and flat for me. I hope you're healing well.
SO HOT AND FLAT. Except day. Today, it's in the upper 30s with a depressing steady rain. When Houston goes gloomy, it's not a romantic gloomy, but an ugly, spiteful gloomy.
Ewww! At least here in Seattle, it's green with snow on the mountaintops.
I spent a week in Houston one afternoon ...
But seriously, while it has been 25+ years since last I was there, my memory is that they took all of the most dreadful parts of Los Angeles and amplified them. I like to say that L.A. is not a city, it is a growth. My impressions of H is that it is somewhere between a carbuncle and a cancer.
Are those tracks in the street downtown fairly new (as in <25 years?) I don't recall them from the times I was there.
I've probably told this story before about my own surgery, but when they replaced my aortic valve, there was so much crud built up around my heart that they waited 30 hours to button me the rest of the way up. So I went in for surgery at 7:00 AM and they finally brought me all the way out 7:00 PM Tuesday (6 hour surgery, so 36 hours total.) During the time they had me draining, I was no longer on full anesthesia. But I was still intubated, so I was kept on partial. During this time I'd occasionally come out a little and see these people at he foot of my bed having a conversation. It was like they were doing a really bad comedy routine, over and over and over again. I finally realized that I was hallucinating, which made the whole thing not so much annoying as boring. I sort of realized that something was not quite going to plan, but as I wasn't dead it couldn't be all bad.
But yeah, when you're out, you're out. The amazing thing to me has always been how they've got it timed down tot he minute when you will come around.
Gares, I did NOT know that. LORD ABOVE, that sounds horrifying! You're a brave soul. And it's the intubation and its after effects that caused me such pain, not the surgery itself. Was that the case with you, too? I had a sore throat for a month.
I recovered from the intubation fairly quickly, 2 or 3 days as I recall. I still had (small) tubes in me for a week after the surgery. I don't recall anything like an epidural when they came out and stitched me all the way up, but neither was it especially painful. (They then had to come back and stitch me up a second time because I was leaking.)
The scary part came the next day when I tried to read anything. I couldn't even navigate through the address list on my phone except with the most stumbling of unfocusable efforts. By Thursday I could manage a little poetry (I'd brought Yeats with me.) It was Saturday before I could manage to read even a little philosophy. All an artifact of the extremely long anasthesia.
The major pain for me was sneezing with a chest that had been cracked open. That's fucking bracing, let me tell you.
I’m delighted to hear the last chapter is behind you, and your writing again. From Italy, to dildos on subways in NYC, to Houston, your adaptability and strength is to be commended. Bucolic, concrete jungle, and now the south, that’s a lot of culture shock and material to work with. May yours and Jon’s new roots be watered daily with love and happiness in your new environment. I can’t wait to read more about your perceptions through the windows of life. ❤️
Elle and I are REALLY WORRIED about you. When you get a chance, will you let one or both of us know you're okay? Those damn fires. California, ravaged. Where does it end?
Just wrote a whole diatribe and it didn’t take and flew off into the ether I guess. We’re fine, we’re in evacuation stand by. Can’t smell smoke or see any ashes. The wind is blowing towards the ocean. We’re being vigilant. We got two places to go just in case. Spoke with Ellery and exchanged info. We finally got cable and internet back after a day and a half. Thus, messages not being received. Thanks for your concern. You have my number, call anytime. Would love to hear from you. ❤️
firstly, major kudos to john, bro, sis in law. secondly: grateful you are recovered.
lastly: nope: Here’s the kicker: You probably are, too. probably -be the operative word. life is choices even when not.
You know I agree with that. I have no choice but to let go and let life. It's wonderful being with my kiddos. I draw my strength from that. Thank you, my friend.