I had to go and observe a space in Florence for a class; try to get a feel of the space and understand my reaction to it. It was an important experience for me and I'm very glad I did it. I went to Piazza San Marco.
I started to draw when I sat down, because I also need to draw in order for places, objects, experiences to open up for me; in order for me to be able to understand and step inside. Almost as soon as I started drawing a middle aged Italian man, with his wife and family, came over and sat down next to me. He looked at my sketchbook and talked to me. I tried to tell him I didn’t speak Italian but he didn’t listen, he kept talking to me the whole time he sat there. The group all had food and he threw some bread out for the pigeons-they swarmed us. The young girls (they must have been in their early teens), were singing an American pop song and would occasionally come over and stand behind me to watch what I was drawing. The man kept offering me Vino, which I kept declining. They laughed and talked and I also joined in the laughter. After twenty minutes they finished their food, and got up to leave. As they were leaving they smiled and said “ciao!” to me, and asked if I spoke German. I told them no, I spoke English and a little French. Then they all smiled and walked off. It was an odd encounter, made odder by the fact that the mother kept taking pictures, many of which I had to be in. The family seemed to be tourists of sorts, and now I, Emily, am a part of their Florence trip. And they in turn are a part of mine. It is strange and almost beautiful how in a city you can step into other people’s lives to easily. It is brief but it is constantly happening. This fact strengthens my belief that all people are connected in some way, and that we all have overlapping and intertwining stories.
After my encounter with the family, I began to notice more about the space. There were many people coming in and out of it. People walking through, others were sitting leisurely. The air was cold, and had the faint smell of cigarettes. And the noises! There were pigeons chattering away, cell phones ringing, Italians talking loudly, and the sounds from cars and buses. I began to observe all of the people around me, from the little old ladies talking on a bench in their huge fur coats, to the boy listening to music, to the woman on the phone next to me (she was obviously upset with the person on the other end), and the man across from me who was drawing. He had been there since before I came, and he was quite involved in what he was doing.
Once I pulled out my sketchbook we both acknowledged each other’s presence, smiling because we were doing the same thing. I took quite a few photos of him as he sat drawing. As I was packing up to leave he was doing the same thing, and before I walked off he came up to me and handed me a drawing of me he had done. It was stunning, the likeness impressive, especially considering how far away from me he was sitting. I was speechless I was so touched by the gesture. He was kind and polite. I told him thanks and we tried to find a language we could both speak but couldn’t (he didn’t really speak French or English and I don’t speak much Italian or any Spanish (he mentioned both)), and it makes me sad that I couldn’t say thank you and tell him how amazing the drawing was, and also that I couldn’t give him anything in return. I hope that he could read my face to see how much I appreciated it. In the end we parted ways with a few smiles exchanged (and don’t get me wrong here, I’m a good judge of people, and I stay away from creepy men, he wasn’t a creeper). I took pictures of him while he drew me, and through a visual communication we spoke and talked to one another. I guess that that is one of the reasons I think creating art is exciting and still relevant: because it can connect all different sorts of people; those who wouldn’t normally speak to one another, or couldn’t. My taking photos of him and his drawing of me enforces this thought of mine.
Sometimes the simple, unexpected experiences and encounters are the most important and beautiful things in people's lives.
I think Florence is teaching me to slow down.
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