Pick me up and take me away…

The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

I started work on a new short story. It’s…different from what I usually write. For one, I don’t know how its going to end (usually when I write, I have an idea of where its going to end up). I started with an image that popped into my mind, and from there let the twists and turns develop. But now, about twelve pages in, I finally have a view of what the main character’s goal might be. But it could change.

As always, I’m concerned about my influences being a mite too obvious. This piece is feeling a bit Prisoner-esque, hopefully minus the epic mental trip of the finale (and I don’t mean imply that this little story is even close to the same level as The Prisoner). Oh well.

I enjoy writing this story. The main character strikes me as a bit of an idiot, but his antagonists(?) are wonderfully enigmatic. I like peeling away the layers of the characters and discovering the world. I doubt it will be a very polished piece, but I feel like there’s potential in it.

And it takes place in Italy. Finally. I’ve been here two months–you would think that by now I would have set all of my short stories here!

A (minor) Reason for Pride

The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

Back in December, I posted a list of my writing goals for 2010. First on the list was “Write one(+) short story a month”. Well, it’s a quarter of the way through the year, and I’ve managed that.
Its a minor victory, given that it accounts for only four short stories (okay, one isn’t completed yet, but it will be done today). The stories are all in first draft form, but given some polishing, and two have the potential to be quite good, one good, and one is a joke so I’m not too concerned with how that turns out. With my luck, the joke one will be the best of them all.
As for the goal of writing another novel, two of my short stories are pieces that form part of my mired-in-research RAF short story/novel, tentatively titled “Burning Blue.” So I’m off to a start of sorts, but working at a snail’s pace just the same. I’ve been mapping out a few ideas for a light fantasy piece, which could possibly become a novella. For that one, I have characters I enjoy writing, a couple of settings…as always, lacking a plot.
There are still nine months left in the year; hopefully I’ll have at least nine more short stories, and (with hope) a first draft of a novella.
As for reading more…that will happen this summer! But I’m nearly finished with The Prince by Machiavelli, which I decided to read for fun.

Decaying Elegance

Italian Wandering

I find ruins infinitely more fascinating than whole buildings. There’s a romantic wondering in what the finished edifice, square, town, looked like and felt like.

Italy certainly is the place to think of such things.

The other day, my friend K and I went on a day trip to Pompei. This was a dream come true for me–Pompei was my first historical interest, back when I was a wee kid of four or so.

Well, even trudging through the impending (and rapidly incessent) rain, I couldn’t help but feel transported. My imagination roamed over rocks, buildings stripped of their decorative frescoes, roofs, walls, floors. I delighted in slipping through the delapidated houses, some excellently preserved and others little more than a corner.

I just don’t get the same feeling with entire villages, even if they are ancient. Walking through Florence’s medieval section doesn’t awaken quite the same sense of wonder–but when I pass the store with the glass floor (where you can see the ancient remains of previous Florentine buildings), that feeling wakes up in my chest. Passing newer buildings, destroyed by bombs during WWII and never repaired, brings it about, too.

And there’s the romantic in me, crafting worlds and stories around a few old rocks.

On an unrelated note–I’ve been in Italy for two months! My, how time flies. I hope to make a few more posts in the near future. I’m embarrassed to see that I haven’t written a new post in twenty days.

Master of Light

Italian Wandering

I can’t believe its been a week. One week ago I saw a spectacular exhibition of Caravaggio’s works in Rome. It was at the Scuderie del Quirinale, organized to celebrate the 400th anniversary of his death. The exhibit was entirely Caravaggio. I was in heaven! He’s my favorite artist (together with Gustav Klimt). The way Caravaggio plays with light and shadow is just fantastic.

I aspire to be as fantastic as he, in whatever media I end up pursuing. His paintings are like screen shots from a movie—a moment caught eternally in oil. I stared at I Bari for what felt like hours, admiring the delicate brocades, feathering and colors. To see one of my favorite paintings, mere feet from my nose—outstanding.

Though seeing I Bari in person was astounding, the painting I found most beautiful was an arresting painting of John the Baptist. He’s caught in painstaking introspection, or perhaps a nap in the sun. The light is, characteristically, dramatic; his body glows whilst his face remains shadowed.

The light truly makes the mood of the painting. My two favorite paintings, I Bari (The Cardsharps) and San Giovanni Battista (St John the Baptist), illustrate this. I Bari is bathed in light. You can clearly make out the individual characters’ faces, their expressions, their hands. Everything is perfectly clear. As for San Giovanni Battista, this picture is dark, obscure, contemplative. It draws you in, makes you wonder, think. I was unfamiliar with this work, but seeing it in front of me—a painting never moved me so much. St. John looks so lifelike, it’s astonishing.

Leaving the exhibit broke my heart. I wanted to stay for hours more, but stomachs growled and food a-waited. I don’t think I shall ever forget this. Seeing one work by Caravaggio is enough to make you stop and admire, but nearly 30 of his works, without other artists’ interruption? Truly a breathtaking experience.

Incipit vita nova

Florentine Scribblings

Though I’m not set to depart Florence until May, I know there are three things that I’ll leave with—a kick-ass shoe collection, a taste for capuccini and a love of Dante Alighieri. My course on Dante, Petrarca and Boccaccio is amazing—it may be my favorite course (definitely my favorite lit course!). My professor is incredibly knowledgeable about Dante, not to mention sarcastic and quite funny.
It’s odd, but because of this course, things are starting to make sense. While I still don’t like politics, I can see their importance in the way the world works. How people can love their city/country so much that they risk everything for it (and often sacrifice everything). The connections between politics and the written word are falling into place. By understanding the world that Dante lived in, I can better understand his writing. If I care half as much as he did, my world would make more sense, and from there, I’ll have a better grasp of my own writing. There goes my internal romantic.
And his words! Oh, they are so perfect, so beautiful. I wish I could write such things. “Dante never made mistakes in his writing. In his life, yes, but in his writing, no,” my professor said this morning. Every word choice was deliberate. Every thought executed exactly. If only language had not changed so much over time, so we could better comprehend his meaning. Gentle, sweet, honest—all of these words meant something else in Dante’s day.
Dante begins La Vita Nuova:

“In quella parte del libro de la mia memoria dinanzi a la quale poco si potrebbe leggere, si trova una rubrica la quale dice: Incipit vita nova. (In that part of the book of my memory before which little could be read, a rubric is found that says: [Here begins the new life]).”

So, here begins my new life. However, not one changed by Love, but one changed by Thought.

One year ago today…

General Geekiness

It’s hard to believe that She Thinks Too much is a year old! Who ever thought that a little project for a class would continue and flourish a year later?

This little blog has undergone a lot of changes. From its earliest, insecure incarnation as a place for random postings, reviews and musings, it’s since mutated into a writing/travel blog since I’ve gone on the road. Gone is the intention of posting weekly comics (who knows, those might actual make appearances, if I ever draw them).

I hope I’ve created something intelligent and above all, entertaining. Thank you to everyone who has read, commented and shared my blog. Without you readers, this blog wouldn’t be the same.

Here’s to another year!