According to the five week schedule, I will be traveling outside of Orvieto every other day, on average. Three different times I will have three straight days traveling. One weekend in Venice with the class. One weekend in Florence. One weekend in Cinque Terre. For me, class days will simply fill the idle time between trips. And today was a class day. So you know what that means.
Good news about my classes: I do particularly enjoy one of them. And it’s pretty much because of the professor. Being a left-brained person, the art history stuff is hard to follow sometimes. I always feel like the lessons could be more efficient and streamlined. But then there is Giles Knox. Professor Knox has an undergraduate degree in biochemistry. I liked him from the moment he said that. He did graduate work in art history, and that is why he’s here teaching us about art in Italy. I find all his lectures, whether in the classroom or on site, to have a purpose. He talks in an organized fashion. And most importantly, when he’s done, he’s done. Other professors like to go on and on, losing me to boredom. Professor Knox knows where his lecture on a subject ends, and he ends it there. And for that, I thank you.
Exciting things happened in Orvieto today. The quiet town turned into a huge celebration for Pentecost, which took place in the piazza in front of the Duomo. (If you’re truly kulturing yourself, you’d remember that the Duomo is Orvieto’s claim to fame.) Our professors had been telling us about the “flaming pigeon” show that was going to take place in the piazza. A few of us walked over to see the spectacle. The flaming pigeon wasn’t quite as cool as I expected, but still very interesting. There was a zip line strung from one balcony to the top of the Duomo. After hearing a band play, some fireworks went off and our eyes went straight to the zip line. A container, decorated with fake flames, zipped down the line from the balcony. When it arrived at the Duomo, the container flung open and two doves flew out. Not quite as cool as a real flaming pigeon, but I’m glad I went—for the kulture.
Here’s me at the Pentecost celebration.
When the container hit the end of the string at the top of the altar, they flew out.
