love and the colosseum

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The Colosseum from an off the beaten path vantage point in Rome, where we all want to feel beauty and find love.

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Rather than just street views up close, some of the ruins can be viewed from greenery, captured like a stolen moment between lovers.

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The sun breaking through the “windows” of the colosseum still inspires excitement in me after 20 years in Rome.

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See how small we are in this world, and how the ancients wanted to remind us of that?

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The view of more centuries of history mashed together from atop the crowds, with the ancient symbol of fecundity a pomegranate in bronze.

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Arches built for faded triumphs, still gazed upon thousands of years later.

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The verdant hills of the Palentine whisper of a pastoral Rome found normally on the winding road of the interminable Appian Way.

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Angels were found in Classical Antiquity, and have guided me along my own travels in the Eternal City.

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The marble of Roma seems the only thing built to last some days.

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A Roman bride as bright as a white dove sent as some augur of hope amidst the ruins.

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Love can not wait for time to take over and wreak havoc.

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A Renaissance fountain and umbrella pines tucked away quietly from the crowds.

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Water and moss glint in the sunlight and shadow.

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The present is pulled between the past ashes and the future hopes.

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When in Rome embrace love, life, and passion in the moment… bathe in warm sunshine before the sun crawls west and the moon rises in the east again, except for two days of the year.

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The moment is now, the touch is palpable, the hum of machinery is drowned out by the flight and song of sparrows, the cypress and umbrella pines wave in the breeze, and the scent of wine and food beckons like a kiss from nearby.

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Laugh in the face of death while you still can, make love in the dying of the light to make your embers burn deeper, richer, more wildly.

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The gods have left their dice behind, we only have to roll them.

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Remember what has been, recognize who you are, breathe it all in, and then move with the traffic to the next thing.

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The vestiges must be broken from something solid and beautiful before we are all dust.

 

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widowhood

I want my own bed again

and I want to be alone

because that’s what

life is now

a series of good nights

to memories

private moments

which others

invade temporarily

in symbolic acts

of contrition and intimacy

merely signifying

soft betrayals

exhumed in the

burning of daylight

beautiful and inexpensive art prints of italy

Interested in buying any of my images of Rome or in Italy?

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Don’t see an image you wanted? Let me know, I add daily. rebecca@romepix.com

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eternal city

a love letter to rome

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Spend some time in the eternal city and you will feel death like a whisper on the back of your neck.

Go there young, when you still feel invincible, and watch the tombs and monuments to a crumbled past deathmask-smile at you.


Return after you’ve loved and lost a little, when you’ve begun to collect possessions interchangeably with memories, hold hands past paupers and ruffians and the modern courtesan; the tourist liaisons hovering by menus, beckoning, offering, waving.


Return again after you’ve lost more than you’ve loved but you still have a bit of youth on your side, and you can take in the big picture.


Return next when you’ve hit your peak and now the edges are fraying a little. When fountains and paintings once trumpeting romance and pleasure are grimier and more worn than you remember. When the seducers and the money takers suggest more pallid languor than…

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sunset on the tyrrhenian sea

a love letter to rome

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On a little boat floating around the island of Capri we gazed up at the rocks and watched as the sun slipped slowly down behind the cliffs.

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Old barricades, canon heavy forts by the English and later the French, ancient walk ways of Romans and shepards, medieval paths with goats grazing on them, modern swimming clubs and fashion designer villas now sprinkle the soaring cliffs of Capri.

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The sea is calm for a moment, the south wind changes, the sun slinks further down and there is an upheaval in the waves.

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The boat rounds the entrance to another hidden grotto.

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The famed Faraglioni rocks, with a boat passing under it’s arch. We are about to enter it ourselves.

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Another boat races us to get there first. And yet we are all at a leisurely pace here. We are on “Capri time” as the locals say.

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The shadows and light meet…

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let us lose ourselves 

a love letter to rome


Are they a shadow now? Can they hear your thoughts now that they’re ether, a chimera, soon to be dust? What becomes of love when you lose the object behind it?

To think you will join them one day; older, wiser, less you than they remember.

Your dust will never become theirs. There is no map to follow, no compass, no ship or footpath to take, no direction to fly in except to fling oneself back into space.

The will of love, the struggle, the battle for tender ownership is gone. They have vanished, you will vanish, it appears life is lived to once more succumb.


What are subterraneans to each other but cells divided once more and spread through the earth? That cold science of it, when emotions which once ran hot have now ended.

What is love but a bargain with a dream to not yet wake up?

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Cloud no. 81

a love letter to rome

Listening to classical music while flying through the air is something I do when traveling overseas. Here are a couple things I wrote, and the pieces of music I listened to while composing them.

detail Gentle Spring, c.1865, Frederick Sandys

My advice is to give your heart away — even though it may return to you in a different state. For then your heart has been in some subtle way changed each time you give it to someone or something.

And does it matter so much if someone else wants your heart?
The beauty of your openness is a sweetness which extends throughout an entire human life when there is so much bitter to the taste of the world. Loving is a kind of reverence to the best few moments we each have on earth. Loving, even without being loved in return, is the choice to chase beauty no matter…

View original post 302 more words