For the last week and a half, I have been trying to finish a post about the eventful day I had last Sunday. I took some great photos I was really excited to share here, and I had some fun stories to tell, too. But I can’t seem to finish it. Perhaps it is because I have too much schoolwork on my plate. Or, perhaps, it’s just not meant to be shared with the world. Whatever the case, I felt like I should write something new, since it’s been a while since the first edition of this “series” that isn’t looking so much like a series anymore.
I am currently sitting outside doing my homework and I was struck with sudden inspiration. Why now? Why this moment? I couldn’t tell you. But this seems to be happening more and more as I practice writing, especially now that I am at school studying it. The most seemingly-boring moments give me the most inspiration, and albeit frustrating at times, I love it.
It’s 19:25 here, and all I could think about after finishing classes was how relieved I am that this day is over. I had three pretty big assignments today, all in a row, and while they were not fun, I did it. And I’m quite proud of myself for it. The college stress is real, and it certainly isn’t nonexistent just because I’m in Italy.
Although, of course, my location does make the stress a little more tolerable — and for that I’m extremely grateful. For instance, this evening, as I worked on readings for my fiction class, I decided to look up from my laptop and found, right above me, a perfectly pink sky. The kind of sunset that makes the clouds look like illustrations, cause the sun illuminates them so clearly.
I almost ran in to get my phone to take a photo, but knowing my luck, it would be gone when I returned. So I turned my computer screen around and snapped a photo with Photo Booth, hence the awful-but-charming graininess of the above image.
I’m taking it all in as I watch the sunset slowly disappear. I breathe in the crisp, city air that, amazingly, smells and feels nothing like city air. There is a slight breeze that blows only enough to make my hair sway as if it were a piece of seaweed. I had to run inside and grab a sweater — an action I didn’t intend on doing until October, at the latest. This moment is meditative, and I will not forget it.
The whole moving-across-the-world thing is hard. Some days, I forget that it’s supposed to be hard, and I hate myself for feeling sad or nervous or stressed. Some days, all I want to do is go home. And some days, I can’t even imagine going back.
But then there are days like today: the ones in which I feel everything all at once: the ones that make me feel the most alive and present. They are seemingly-small, boring, and meaningless, but they are the ones that end with pink skies, bursts of inspiration, gratitude, and a whole lot of feelings.