Hello, Ragazzi

Everyone wants their Lizzy Maguire moment in Rome. In a way, we got that, with some tweaks. Instead of clinging to an Italian popstar on the back of a vespa, we desperately clung to life behind a grumpy Flemish archaeologist as we walked the Aurelian Wall for nine hours. To me, this is what dreams are made of. Our month in Rome really was a dream; a truly happy one.

As we followed our dear professors, Joyce, Bimal, George, and Bryan, we deepened our understanding of the city’s architectural palimpsest, tracking it through drawings that improved by the day. We “threw-down” our sketchbooks and learned from each other, our mutual admiration growing. Just as the city is comprised of layers of history, our experience there can best be described through layers of tiny, special moments:

Racing for a morning cappuccino before the clock strikes 11 to avoid the truly devastating Italian side eye. Blind contour drawing with our left feet, joining a human pyramid in Sperlonga (twice), hearing Assistant Professor Zola recite the Odyssey. Aperitivo in the piazza, night markets on the Tiber, petting cats in an Ancient ruin, folk dancing with elderly strangers at a construction-site-turned-urban-lake

And just like the best of dreams, I may miss it deeply once I wake up, but I am nonetheless more joyful having had it.