Naked in Firenze!

Bright light washed over Michelangelo’s David in the Galleria Dall’Accademia.  I was overwhelmed with the vision in front of my eyes. 

He’s the perfect man, I thought.  Handsome. Muscular…love his wavy hair and piercing eyes.   I continued scrutinizing his physique from head to toe and then back again. The detail on every part of his body was so life-like. Actually better than life-like.  I never dated anyone who looked like that.   He was more perfect than perfection.  

“Have I got competition?”  asked Tall, Fair and Handsome softly.

What can I tell you? I simply felt star-struck.  Having studied art for years, it’s an extraordinary experience to be so close to the works of the masters.  The size of paintings and sculptures make art come alive compared to viewing diminutive one dimentional photographs in an art history book. 

Sometimes my eyes tear up when I see a favorite painting or sculpture in an art museum.  I’m transcended back in time and imagine myself in that particular era, fantasizing what it would be like to know these brilliant artisans.  I suppose that’s why I love Woody Allen’s movie, Midnight in Paris.  I have often wondered what it would be like to have a glass of wine with Michelangelo or one of the Impressionist artists that I adore, getting to know them as men as well as artists.  Of course in my imagination none of them have personality flaws.  If only life could imitate art and my imagination. Talk about a win-win.

Eventually TFH was able to gently nudge me away from my beloved David and we walked around the museum pointing, ooh-ing and aah-ing at Michelangelo’s unfinished works: Prisons and Prison, St. Matthew, and the Palestrina Piet`a. 



Michelangelo's 'Prisons'

Michelangelo's 'Pieta'

I find these sculptures to be haunting.  Unsettling.  They touch my soul.  TFH put his arm around me and wiped away a few tears.

Another sculpture I admire solely for its emotional impact, is The Rape of the Sabines by Giambologna. 

Rape of the Sabines by Giambologna

It’s harsh.  Violent.  Ruthless.  But, it makes you feel something dramatic.  This particular sculpture is like a train-wreck waiting to happen.  You know you shouldn’t look, but you can’t take your eyes off of it none-the-less.

Seeing the look of horror in my eyes at first glance of this work of art, TFH whispered in my ear, “Let’s get something to eat.”

And with that, he whisked me away from the ugliness of the subject matter and once we were in broad daylight, my mood shifted dramatically.

We found a lovely restaurant, Trattoria Cammillo, on the Borgo S. Jacopo.  When I see white linen tablecloths in a European restaurant, I know it’s a good sign.

The décor was lovely.  The brick ceiling was charming as were the attractive lampshades with different scenes of ancient Florence decorating the walls.  What’s not to love about dining in beautiful surroundings, especially in Italy? A little ambiance goes a long way.

The waiter took our order and when he returned to fill our glasses with water, he told me he was a ski instructor and teaches in Cortona.  He gave me his business card and phone number and said to call if I wanted lessons.  I smiled inwardly because I didn’t think this girlie-girl looked all that athletic.  TFH had other opinions about him and the skiing invitation. None of them had anything to do with skiing.  What do I know?

By the time he brought us vegetable soup in a light broth and white fish with tomatoes and olives, my mouth was watering. 

I didn’t realize one could work up quite an appetite in a museum.  TFH ordered a delicious white wine to accompany the meal.  A little buzz in the afternoon along with a good meal and good company is always a winning combination.

After lunch, TFH didn’t want to take a chance taking me to a museum again, so he made me suffer and shop for cashmere scarves, fur lined gloves, leather jackets and jewelry for the remainder of the afternoon.

Ohhhhhh, the things I have to endure for romance.