Saturday, February 26, 2011

In settlement

acrid dust room dank and stale
exposing the patterns
mind kept in tact veil
entombed in cubes
but scattered about
await thy fate
one by one exhumed

in silence a trigger
a cause for alarm
the images so sharp
cut down to my rest!

three eyes behind hands

a distant sight 
can I no longer bare
to lay blame unto one
when three point to I

released to higher source

to live in light
the weight now shed

to lay blame onto I

quickly now forgiven.

Antony Salvi Scandale 2009

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Upon the Old Bridge

There I sat upon the wall, contemplating my next move. The infamous, Ponte Vecchio was in my sight and all I could do was stare at its shimmering glory as the October sun grazed the facade. 5 inches from my left, a 20 foot drop onto lush, green, grass yet I laid comfortably enjoying my moment of Firenze.

This was my vacation; and I have no inclination to buy my return flight home.

I laughed to myself while watching the tourists avoid the many illegal street vendors standing next to me. Every one of them was on edge with their head on a swivel, to escape La Polizia just around the corner.

Not me.

I had nothing to worry about, nor a reason to run. I sat as though floating on air, upon my own cloud 9. Who could claim that they've sat upon this particular wall with a laptop beneath their finger tips; while pounding sequential buttons forming stories akin to this?

I made my decision to rejoin my family back in Canada. Though, I realized with bitter-sweetness, that they won't see my relaxed and smiling face, nor hear my newly acquired Italian voice until December for Italian classes begin next week.

Antony S Scandale copyright 2009

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Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Just Fail

Sept. 30/09

9:09 p.m. - Munich, Germany

After making us some home cooked dinner consisting of spaghetti and white wine, Bettina and I walked from her apartment to the Munchen Hauptbanhof Train Station. I boarded my overnight train, with only 13 minutes to spare to say good-bye to my dear friend. With my back-pack inside the train, I clung to the handle of the door to keep chatting with her before the train rolled out of the station. I really wanted to sit down and talk with her for hours, and I could tell she felt the same way, although it was my time to explore the world on my own. I promised her I'd come back to visit soon and she reiterated that 'Hotel Betty' was always open.

I'll admit buying a one-way ticket to any destination is not ideal for most people. At the time, having no return dates was very daunting, because it took me out of my comfort zone. Moreover the situation raised one question amongst my friends in Europe.

“Where are you going next?”

“I don’t know.” I said with some pride.

Every one of them looked at me with concern and probably thought I should check into the nearest insane asylum instead of continuing my travels. Well perhaps a session with a shrink could be beneficial, but I think I would be crazy if I didn’t let my heart decide. After all, the theme of my trip has been spur-of- the-moment, and I still believe it’s possible to travel without planning and still live to tell about it.

Now I’m not one for regrets but traveling alone without a plan always raises three questions: Am I comfortable with my decisions? Am I scared? Am I worried about entering a foreign country, alone with no place to stay, no map of the city and without prior knowledge of the language? And I would always answer. Yes. No. Absolutely.

I told Betty, that I had an idea of what I wanted to do, but I couldn’t pin point what it was. I told her I just know this moment. I know what happened yesterday, and I don't know what will happen tomorrow, so what was I worried about?

I was afraid to fail.

Bettina's response struck a chord with me.

"Just fail. I have failed many times but at least I tried."

She said this with a gigantic smile on her face. Only a free spirited person can give such advice. She's right, whether it be a positive or a negative outcome, it really equates to a neutral result. Hence it becomes an experience.  

Life is just experience.

But there was more substance to her words. Ultimately she wanted me to enjoy the journey and also the suffering-process-of-it-all that sometimes comes with it.

She wanted me to live the moment.

Perhaps I will fail my Italian courses in Florence and now, it doesn’t matter.

Danke, Bettina. I needed that.

Neither the chicken nor the egg. Part 1

What if "thought" came first before both the chicken and the egg? 

A little strange I agree, but here is my take on the subject.  If one were to take a look at everything on this beautiful planet of ours, what would he or she find? 

Upon my desk, I can see, an empty white mug with, cold coffee stains along the inner walls.  I see a yellow book next to my left hand entitled, "Sentieri del Tempo" by Emillio De Paola, and of course directly underneath my, frigid finger-tips is my, tiny, well traveled, net book.

All of which I have mentioned are just incredible inventions; from a simple cup to which to drink, to the ever completed mechanics of the, lap top to which to do almost everything imaginable, depending upon what we decide to do.

Still beyond its function of being simple or complicated in the physical form, they all have one thing in common.

They all began with a simple thought. 

But how did it become physical reality?  
End of Part 1

Antony S Scandale copyright 2011