Is My Existence Legitimate?

January 24, 2010


I had cast myself into a new life with all my heart.

But I’d forgotten my head.

Cold reality soon set in. My new digs recalled the toilets at Penn Station: grimy white bathroom tiles were glued to every available surface. Water stained floors and ceilings.

I dropped by the comune to ask about getting a building permit for a renovation—secretly hoping they’d wave me away with the well-worn Sicilian phrase Non preoccuparsi!, Don’t worry, and tell me to go do as I pleased.

Not quite. A goggle-eyed man in a pink cravat presented me with a garbage pail and a list.

A list so long and bewildering it brought tears to my eyes. I’ve translated it to the best of my ability (italics mine).

I’m so doomed.

Sicilian graffiti, Anarchia

graffiti on the back of my house

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La Zagara, or How I Was Drugged in Sicily

January 21, 2010


Here’s how I got into trouble.

After teaching a short course in Ragusa in 2002, I’d returned year after year to Southeast Sicily to root around for a little casa. The Fates pushed back with all their might and I finally admitted defeat.

In the spring of 2007, I came to see friends one last time and close the Sicilian chapter of my life. Ciao, Sicilia.

A day before bidding the island farewell, I scaled the long staircase up from Ibla’s Piazza Duomo to see the cupola from on high. After many years cocooned in scaffolding thick as wool, it had reemerged triumphant.

San Giorgio Cathedral, Ragusa Ibla, Sicily

It looked good enough to eat, like whipped cream on a tumbler of granita. I felt a secret joy. Bells tolled, clouds slipped up from the valley. I inhaled la zagara—orange blossoms on the breeze—like a drug.

I turned. There, on an unassuming little row house with a mottled wall and weatherworn door, I saw the magic words: VENDITA.

House in Ragusa Ibla

I saw. I called. I bought. Cast myself into a new world just like that. 1-2-3.

Never imagining for a minute what was in store.

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Sicilia Dreamin’

January 19, 2010.


In the mud-walled winter town of Santa Fe . . .

Santa Fe Snow, Winter

I dream of a Sicilian spring.

Spring in Sicily, Farmer and Dog in SicilySicilian Spring, Green Field in Italy, Sheep in Sicilian FieldSicilian Spring Scene, Ragusa Ibla, Sicilian Olive Grove at SpringtimeSicilian Olive Tree TrunkOld Olive Tree in Sicily

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Southeast Sicily: Sirens and Seraphim

January 15, 2010


Baroque Sicily is

Southeast Sicily, stone grotesque, gargoyle

stone the color of fresh-baked bread;

Southeast Sicily, stone grotesque with glasses, gargoyle

scary souls in spectacles;

Stone Siren, Southeast Sicily

Sirens and

Sculpture of Saint, Modica, Sicily

saints;

Sicilian Cemetery, Stone Angel

seraphim and

Stone shell, southeast Sicily, Ragusa Iblaseashells;

Baroque stone detail, southeast Sicily

spirals and squiggles and

Baroque stone scroll, southeast Sicilyscrolls and swirls.

Baroque architectural details, Scicli, Sicily, ItalyA symphony of  sandstone.

Ah, Sicily. See-chee-lya. Sikelia.

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