my voyage to italy

"La Dolce Vita"
dir., Federico Fellini
1960

It has been a full year since my first abroad experience. It's almost impossible not to label it life-changing like many young and impressionable minds so often describe it in their romanticized travel journals and tales they will eventually tell their families and friends upon arrival home. The sights and sounds of Italy will never leave me. The pace of Florence in the evening; the still allies of Venice; and the hot ball of bustling power that is Rome have become part of me. My eyes were wide and open to every moment I had the distinct pleasure to consume for the five weeks I spent in that gorgeous country.

Perhaps film fascinates me because of its ability to transport and show you a world outside of your window. I had never been on a commercial aircraft or across the United States border prior to June of last year. Shocking, I know. My destination was clear and had been set since my eyes first laid on the beautiful and damned world of Federico Fellini's "La Dolce Vita." Anita Ekberg splashing about in the Trevi Fountain while a seemingly stolid and enchanted Marcello Mastroianni handsomely gazed from afar spoke to me. Something about that moment between a vacuous movie star and her mesmerized tabloid journalist was unreal but visceral and tangible. I had to see this place in the flesh so that it wasn't the fleeting fantasy so many forgettable films had been before. I did see it and as I wiped the sweat off my damp brow from the pulsating heat of Rome, I turned the corner it hit me like a pile of cinder blocks. The air cleared and the heat seemed less sultry. There it was, I thought. There it was. The feeling of a life goal accomplished is indescribable. For a brief and dreamy moment I could hear the echo of Ekberg's voice calling me closer but desperately hoping that in fact it wasn't all a dream, and luckily it wasn't.

Trevi Fountain, July 2006