Una Giornata Particolare

ACI: Opus Sectile

2011-07-31T00:06:00.000-04:00

Since Sant' Imbenia had marble opus sectile fragments which needed to be cleaned, our class was split into groups. Some worked on fresco pieces and others were in the marble lab. The marble tiles were soaked in tubs of water with the mild detergent and biocide. Andreina, a conservationist (and Roberto's wife), described the process of scrubbing off dirt with a toothbrush before taking it to the table to remove any hardened material.

Andreina and Chiara instructing us on marble cleaning

Here is Andreina's link: http://www.cca-roma.org/en/node/317

We continued the process of gently removing dirt either by brush and the cleaning solution, or by using a scalpel to very gently scrape stubborn build up from the marble. Francesca made sure we were holding our scalpels the correct way. If you could hear the scraping, it was too rough and could leave scratches on the surface.

Opus sectile


Marble duty.

Lindsay worked on this huge piece for days, it was a beast!


Some pieces would need to be put together again, like the fresco.

Others had more of a tangible pattern.

Marble variations.

Shannon (Grove City College) and Gage with 'zanzaras.'

If the calcium or mud deposits were too hard for the scalpel, we got to use the the pneumatic drill. Chiara said they called this zanzara (mosquito in Italian), because of the 'eeeeeeeeeeee' sound it made. We all wanted to use the zanzara because it was so satisfying to see little chunks of dirt fly off.
Often the tiles still needed a good soak to loosen up centuries of dirt. Roberto and his crew had invented a nebulizer, which emits a fine but constant mist onto the marble. CCA had used this method while conserving the triumphal arch of Septimius Severus in the Roman Forum:

http://www.cca-roma.org/en/node/443

The marble tiles would sit for hours under the spray, then we would scrub them with toothbrushes. It sounds easy enough but it was grueling. Some of the stuff would not come off no matter how much energy we put into it!

Archaeological Conservation Institute 5/16-6/2 2011

2011-07-18T02:12:00.001-04:00

The view from one of the CCR's laboratories.

During the fall 2010 semester I enrolled in the Three Ancient Cities class taught by Dr. Susan Stevens. The three cities were: Athens, Greece, Rome, Italy, and Alexandria, Egypt. Dr. Stevens is Chair of the Classics Dept. and leads the Lynchburg Chapter of the Archaeological Institute of America (AIA). One of the lectures on campus was brought to us by the AIA: “Conservation in Archeology: Case Studies in the Mediterranean Region” by Roberto Nardi, Centro di Conservazione Archeologica (Roma). I was mildly interested because I was enjoying the class, but I had no idea where this lecture would lead me. Roberto Nardi talked to us about mosaic conservation in Zeugma, Turkey, conserving the apse mosaic in the Monastery of Saint Catherine in Sinai, conservation of the triumphal arch of Septimius Severus in the Roman Forum, the bronze centaurs of the Capitoline Museum in Rome, and the cleaning of the wall paintings of the Amiriya Madrasa in Yemen. More of his projects are mentioned here:

http://www.cca-roma.org/en/attivita/cantieri

The lecture was completely inspiring and Nardi's love of conserving important sites around the world was evident. Then I went home and watched more videos on the CCA's youtube channel.
Dr. Stevens took Roberto Nardi out for a glass of wine post-lecture and they discussed the possibility of Randolph students visiting Italy for some sort of study abroad. A few months later, this was the result!

http://www.cca-roma.org/en/node/468

An itinerary was made, flights were booked, and fees were paid. We had a lecture and lab schedule for the weekdays and side trips to historic places, including Rome. An extra four days at the end of the class included Venice and another day to explore Rome. I decided to go for the whole 'shabang,' though originally we were set to take the train to Venice and I was looking forward to seeing the countryside. It turns out flying on EasyJet was cheaper and much quicker (*stomach turn*, see 'Aero-hostile' blog entry). Anyway, I thought this trip would look mighty good on a graduate school application since I had determined I wanted to be an arts conservator. I had to scratch that dream when I found out Randolph would not offer any financial awards for me to meet the undergraduate chemistry requirements for a conservation program (it would add another year). (Boo!) After this reality sunk in, I was stuck with a non-transferable round-trip ticket to Rome. I considered not going and losing money on the ticket, but my friends, family, professors, adviser, and Dean Wallace said I had to go, so I did. (Honestly, there was some arm twisting.)

Our days at the convent consisted of an 8/8:30am breakfast, 9am lecture, 10:45am coffee, 1pm lunch, 2:30pm laboratory, 4:15pm coffee, 4:30pm laboratory, and 7/8pm dinner. It was a full day for me, someone not used to having every moment scheduled; in fact, I'm really bad at full schedules.

Here are some of our lecture topics: The Villa of Sant' Imbenia in Sardinia, The Roman Villa, Cultural Heritage, Opus Sectile, Fresco Painting, Deterioration of Materials, Diffusion and Communication, Documentation, Preventative Conservation during Excavation, Principles of Conservation, and the Future of Conservation. Since I am not an archaeologist I approached this with the eye of an 'art historian/conservationist,' albeit an amateur one. There are photos coming up of the laboratory materials and techniques.

(Note: One funny thing about being part of Roberto's class was his definition of documentation. You see, Roberto uses video as part of his practice, which is wonderful -- except when you are the one being filmed! I believe it may have been the second day of class when through the door walked Giaccobe, one of the drivers, with his digital movie camera. He followed us everywhere, and we joked we were part of a classics reality show. Roberto had originally wanted a closed-circuit television link from the Museum of Alghero in Sardinia to our lab, but he wasn't wired for that yet, thank goodness! Giacobbe was just doing his job and we did bond over Terence Malick (whose win at Cannes Giacobbe updated me on), Bertolucci's movie 'The Conformist and Antonioni. I had taken Post-WWII Italian Cinema way-back-when at Virginia Tech, so I knew a little.)

Sant' Imbenia was a villa on a Sardinian beach, dated to about the 1st century BCE. It was 150m wide, 2 floors and had 49 rooms. It did a lot of maritime business and some underwater excavation will be necessary to study ruins and the piers. It was surveyed in the 1960 and the first excavation was in 1990. There is still no general plan of the villa, but what is known is that the 2nd floor collapsed on to the 1st floor, leaving piles of marble opus sectile, mosaic flooring, blue glass, stucco, and fresco paintings. There are over 200 boxes of pieces. I believe we cleaned about 2 or 3 boxes, if that tells you anything!

The laboratory where we worked.

A sampling of Sant' Imbenia.

Pieces of an ancient fresco painting.

Color and design have outlasted centuries of sun and sea air.

Part of the apse fresco, you can see it curves upward on the edges.

Dolphins!

Dolphin on a column.


So many pieces, even the tiniest are essential to the whole.

Roberto had staff to teach us the proper way of handling and cleaning the fragments. Chiara had worked with Roberto for many years, and was his project manager:

http://www.cca-roma.org/en/node/318

Three beauties, so friendly and patient with us -- Chiara, Flavia, Francesca

Flavia and Francesca were attending a conservation graduate program in London, but were back for the summer to work for Roberto, teach us conservation technique, and guide us through small hilltowns and Rome.

Since these pieces came out of a pile of weathered rubble, they needed to be cleaned gently. First there was the dry clean. This was a brushing off of the dirt (but not the paint or mortar!). We wore surgical masks because of all of the dust. The scalpel was for really hardened bits of dirt, which usually had to be softened with water.

Dusty dry clean.

The pieces were then placed on a marked off section of table for those doing the wet clean, a process a bit more satisfying. Crusty stuff warranted a few layers of tissue sprayed with water mixed with a gentle biocide, a large, hand-rolled swab (Chiara warned us it was harder than it looked, & she was right!) was then rolled back and forth over the surface of the fragment. This gentle process demanded a lot of patience because some of the paint would actually come off if you scrubbed too hard. It may sound trite, but to take a piece of something so old and sit for a long time thinking about its relevance, focusing on it and nothing else, was probably one of the more meditative experiences I've had. I was ready to ask Roberto for a job.


Wet clean. I should have gotten a before and after. And a picture of my perfectly-rolled swab.

After the pieces were cleaned, the 'like' pieces were consolidated, and the million-piece puzzle began. It was time to piece these bits together -- if possible. Some had been done before we even arrived, but we were able to contribute a little.

Buckets of sand helped support curved pieces of the fresco.

Mapping out the joins on clear plastic would help later in trying to piece together the whole. Roberto had no idea what the villa had looked like; his team would have to build it one fragment at a time.

A nice blue frescoed-flower.


Gina was the hero of our time there. She had 40 joins and based her research presentation on her method of looking at the direction of the brushstrokes, not just the edge of the pieces. She just earned a math degree from Grove City College and wants to be a conservator.

The next entry: Fun with marble and fresco free-play.

Rieti, Part Two

2011-07-12T03:02:00.004-04:00

After the theater we headed to the Via Roma, Rieti's main street/shopping district. Scattered throughout the storefronts are large medieval wooden doors. I was wondering what type of people were lucky enough to live behind these doors, within a short walking distance of bakeries, good food, and the Velino river. I knew we were taking an underground tour to see the ancient Roman viaduct and assumed it was a tourist-y type arrangement, not a private residence. What's left of the viaduct is under buildings constructed during medieval and renaissance eras. We stopped in a doorway amid the souvenir shops, tourists and shoppers. Flavia rang the buzzer on the large door and we were greeted by a gentleman named Mario. We entered the palazzo and above us was the sky (right). He took us down a large flight of mossy stairs to the 'basement,' which had a diagram of the viaduct. I like how Mario's mountaineering helmet is casually hanging next to it.

At the bottom of the stairs was a kitchen and dining area. Flavia told me this was where Mario and friends would eat huge meals and discuss current or future adventures as part of the Club di Alpinisimo Italiano Rieti. I wish Ethan had been with me to meet this guy.

Mario resembled an Italian version of Picasso, but better looking. He was, like many Italians, a smoker, but incredibly youthful and vibrant. You could tell he enjoyed life (another Italian trait!). His most recent expedition with his band of explorers had been in 2000, when he went to the North Pole.
He led us into the dining room and Flavia translated his introduction before we walked down stone stairs to another subterranean level. The stairs are behind Mario in the picture on the left (above). I love the huge copper pot on the right (above). Here are pictures of what is left of the viaduct, from Roman republican times.

I was fascinated by this place and almost overwhelmed. It wasn't only that Romans had built the structure, which was now buried, but that it even still existed. Italy is special in that so many of the historic structures have been re-used. I was in an ancient viaduct, probably in a medieval house, in a town St. Francis has visited, which was then home to the papal seat, was invaded, conquered, unified, etc., etc. Most recently the structure I was standing in was a gathering place of Italian mountaineers, some of the most pioneering souls in history. Levels upon levels of history in one spot. That's what I came to love about Italy in my short time there.

This room on the right was a little sketchy, and had been another smoking and drinking area for the alpine club. I said we could plan a trip back to excavate it (like I know anything about that being an art history major), and told Mario we'd do it for free if he would cook for us. Roberto translated this to Mario, who laughed and gently corrected me -- I would do the cooking, not him.

As we walked through Mario's basement/storage area, remnants of his active life were all around: mountain bikes, kids bikes, lots of gear, antique furniture, and this: (left) the sled he used on the North Pole expedition. How cool! I knew I was a dork for taking a picture but I knew I would forget to tell Ethan if I didn't.
We left Mario's house and walked down the Via Roma to see another ruin, the original Roman bridge, which crossed the Velino river. The info sheet Roberto had prepared for us explained that this bridge was used from the Roman era up until 1932, when it was abandoned for safety reasons and a new bridge was built. Below is a collapsed part of the ancient bridge. There were goose eggs in the weeds.

Our group checking out the old bridge.

The lovely Velino, looking up river.

We had covered a lot of territory in three hours and had to eat before stopping by a pipe organ concert (Flavia's mother's idea) and driving back to the convent. Flavia checked with a pizzeria across the river and reserved some outdoor tables for us. We still needed to pass some time so she took us on a short stroll to show us the high school. At left: Shannon crossing the Piazza S. Francesco, on the way to the school, which was originally a Franciscan monastery. As you can see, I was always far behind the group. Shannon would wait for me, that's why she's in a lot of my pictures!

Crossing the Velino River. This picture reminds me so much of Missoula, MT (Montana is mountain in Italian).

The clearest water.

Looking back at the high school from the boardwalk.

After our pizza dinner (sausage and fungi, too yummy!), it was time to walk to the Basilica di San Domenico, for the inauguration of their huge pipe organ. Originally we thought the organist, Paolo Bottini would be playing Vivaldi, but it turned out it was going to be Verdi instead. I didn't realize at the time, there's a huge difference. The church (again) was utterly beautiful, and the organ had been built specifically for it. Here's a link for more information (it can be translated).

http://www.organosandomenicorieti.it/

We arrived in time for the concert and Roberto even quietly had the church speaker welcome our little group of 'American archaeologists.' It was a special moment. Several people in the audience were in pure bliss listening to the music. A few of us fought to stay awake. The music was a little heavier than we were expecting! You'll see what I mean below -- just press play.

We couldn't make it through the whole concert, probably due to pure exhaustion. We left quietly during an intermission, walked back to the car, and drove to the convent. In the morning we would have to leave at 7am to head into Rome.

Rieti: Part One

2011-07-10T02:00:00.003-04:00

Rieti from behind the Basilica di Santa Maria

I confessed to Ethan all I want to write about is Rome and Venice. Those parts of the trip are what I am hanging onto as the day to day reality of my American life putters along. I want to be strolling along the Tiber as early evening approaches; somehow the James river just doesn't cut it. I want to be able to walk somewhere in this town, but Lynchburg is not foot friendly. From my house it's even a haul to the bus stop, let alone the grocery store or a real park.

Eventually I'll explain what we were doing at the convent, (since that was the reason we were in Italy). One of Roberto's employees/interns was Flavia, who grew up in the town of Rieti, a 20 minute drive from the convent. She had arranged a late afternoon tour of the historic center of her hometown. We left the lab early and headed deeper into the region known for the ancient "Rape of the Sabine Women" legend (Romulus and his first generation Romans needed women, so they abducted some of the Sabines ladies from this region. By the time the Sabine soldiers went to rescue them, some years later, most had married and settled into Roman family life.).

We parked and walked up the hill to the Palazzo Vescovile ('Bishop's Palace'), built around 1283 CE.

Shannon under a vaulted arch.

The vaults of the Palazzo Vescovile ('Bishop's Palace').

I could not resist taking a picture of the red Vespa parked behind the fence as we walked out toward the statue of St. Francis in the Piazza M. Vittori.


San Francesco in the Piazza M. Vittori. Basilica di Santa Maria's bell tower from 1252 CE is above him.

There was a moment where I lost my fellow students after stopping one too many times to take pictures. I walked frantically into the cathedral and saw no one. I came out, wondering what I was going to do, lost already in Italy. Luckily I turned the corner and they were all admiring the view of Rieti (the first picture on the blog) before we went inside Santa Maria. This would happen a few times to me, partly because of taking pictures, but mostly because I am slow. I like to stroll, and, unlike my husband, never walk with a purpose. We entered the church and I did get teary, the first of many times after entering an old and sacred place. It was here I realized: "I'm in Italy!"

A bit blurred but one of my favorite symbols, the sacred heart.

After the cathedral, we took a short walk to Museo Civico Archeologico, the archaeological museum. We walked into a small courtyard and something about this mural seemed familiar:

The local art students had a temporary exhibition dedicated to the artist Keith Haring, an 80s icon. Since I was the only art history major on the trip I could hardly contain myself. Ooo! Ooo!

This museum also had exhibits on the "Rape of the Sabine" legend, including interpretations of the event by the art school (see above as well).


Jacques-Louis David's The Sabine Women, but in millions of pixels.

And this gem, a reenactment of David's painting but in the style of Yves Klein's body paintings. When I saw this I had to capture it: "My art history prof will think this is hysterical!"

There were more serious exhibits of course:

Rieti from above.

An expressive beard and brow in marble.

A collection of pottery and votive artifacts.

The museum had a courtyard which we went out into so we could look up at some of the surrounding architecture . I snapped a photo of what I think is the Santa Lucia bell tower. I noticed something in the far right upper (2nd level) window which I thought was extremely odd.

In the window I saw a basketball hoop with a huge poster of Kobe Bryant. I thought; "Wow, now that's a big fan...and they must have an office where they get to shoot baskets." (*Duh*)

What I found out tonight while doing research on the things I had seen in Rieti was that Kobe Bryant's dad Joe, played for the Sebastiani Rieti basketball team from 1984-1992 (yes, wikipedia is my source here, but I checked other sources too). Kobe went to school in Rieti, and learned Italian. Though I'm not a Kobe Bryant fan, this was a cool bit of trivia to discover -- and it solved the b-ball hoop mystery.

After the museum Flavia had arranged for a gentleman to open up the Teatro Flavio Vespasiano (Flavio Vespasian Theatre) for us to have a look around. On the way there she led us to the monument to Rieti's reputation as the "Umbeliculus Italiae," or geographical 'belly button' of Italy. The marker is in the quiet Piazza San Rufo.

After snapping a few pictures around the monument, we strolled to the theater located on the Via Garibaldi, and were allowed inside. The ceiling of the theater is the triumphal parade of Vespasian and Tito (Titus) after conquering Jerusalem.

It was magnificent! I was tempted to walk down the aisle and get up on stage, but instead sat down for a rest in a red velvet seat. Speaking of rest, I need some. Part Two in the works.

Convento di San Nicola

2011-06-14T01:10:00.001-04:00

Centro di Conservazione Archelogica is located here: http://www.cca-roma.org/en/node/313

After the drive out of Rome, we spent about 20-30 more minutes going up a steep and winding country road. Sometimes the road would turn into a narrow alley, going between centuries old houses. It was a miracle I didn't get carsick. After one last hairpin curve, we found a dirt road which led to a driveway.

Even though I had seen pictures from CCA's website, nothing prepared me for the beauty and isolation of San Nicola. There really isn't too much I can say about this place which doesn't sound cliched, so I'll just post the pictures I took.


Shannon enjoying the sun and the view.

This reminded me of Virginia, or even Vermont.

The terrace where we spent nearly all of our spare time.

Up above was Prof. Stevens's window.

The sweetest smelling rose. I remember Roberto coming up to it, inhaling, and exclaiming "Ahhhhhhh." That sums up Roberto!

Part of the original convent.

This church between the ruins and the renovated house was still used several times a year, but we never got to go inside.

The courtyard from the roof.

The courtyard trellis had white roses about to bloom and more grapes.

My adorable bathroom window looked out onto the courtyard fig tree.


I was able to get my own room; now it really felt like a bed & breakfast.

Wild poppies are everywhere in Italy.

So are happy little lizards (and small scorpions, but I didn't get a picture of any -- a good thing!).

Dinner on the terrace.


The morning we left I climbed up the little iron staircase to the roof to get some final pictures.

Villa Adriana, Tivoli

2011-06-11T18:35:00.002-04:00

We got stuck at the airport for a while, trying to determine if a classmate had missed her flight (she had, due to weather). After finding this out we were able to leave and Francesca led us out to meet our charming drivers, Giacobbe and Filippo. They loaded us into two minivans and we made the 30km side trip to Tivoli to visit Villa Adriana. We decided to scrap having an actual picnic lunch at the villa and to grab some pizza in Tivoli. We were behind schedule and starving, not to mention jet-lagged. Francesca brought us pizza marinara and pizza bianca (plain crust with olive oil and sea salt) from a local pizzeria. The pizza bianca was magical, and cured my jet-lag on the spot. We ate in a small park named after Hans Christian Andersen. I have no idea what he had to do with Tivoli because the sign was in Italian.

Hadrian's summer home is a UNESCO World Heritage site, though it is somewhat neglected. The ruins are still awe-inspiring though, and the view immense. The Emperor Hadrian (#3 out of the 5 "Good Emperors") built his villa between 118 and 134 A.D. (C.E. to some). The site seemed endless, especially after about three hours in the sun. My body and mind remembered they had not slept much on the plane. I was laggin'.

A group of schoolkids had just finished lunch here.

I strolled along the canopo.

And met a hungry fish. *Gurp*


The complex at the end of the canopo.


Checking out the ancient drain.


And a lovely drain it was...

This structure reminded me of another place I had been: Double Arch in Arches National Park.


Of course, Hadrian's building was not as humbling or as beautiful, but it still was quiet, weathered, and old.

This building was probably the slaves quarters.

Ancient olive tree, still thriving!

Weeds are usually a sign of neglect at sites like this, and there were several places we could not explore because of danger signs or 'caution' tape. But I loved all the red poppies. Part of me enjoys seeing nature reclaim man-made sites (shout out to Caitlin!).

A view of the hills. I didn't get a picture of Hadrian's prized view, but it looked toward Rome. After sitting to enjoy the sun and the breeze, we kept exploring, sometimes separating into two groups. Via pulled an Indiana Jones here and got a cleaner look at some of Hadrian's ancient opus sectile.


Columns still intact, the stories they could tell...

Here are more mosaic floors, in need of some TLC. These were bedrooms for visitors.

After several hours, we were fried. It was hard keeping my level of excitement up as the day wore on in the hot sun. After being thwarted a few times, we finally found the entrance to Hadrian's special "Island Palace" or Teatro Marittimo (Maritime Theater). This was for private use and entertaining. I guess these days in would be known as a "man-cave" (man-lagoon?). After this we walked down the long hill back to the parking lot, just as another bus filled with kids pulled up. We got into our minivans and headed to Roberto Nardi's renovated convent to settle in and enjoy a meal with our hosts.

Teatro Marittimo

Villa Adriana was my first peek at Roman ruins, and I took a ton of pictures. Of course, my numerous pictures are a little boring, and I've tried to post the nicest ones. Because the villa has been around for so long, it was only a matter of time before treasures were stolen or whisked away to museums. Sometimes removing mosaics, statues, and artifacts from a site is the only way to save them. When I walked through the Capitoline museum, I saw things which had been at Villa Adriana, and wished I had seen them at the Villa instead of in the sterile setting of a museum. It is hard to imagine the glory of such a building without some idea of what it looked like (more than a model, maybe a 'virtual' recreation?). This is something I would learn more about as we began our conservation lecture and lab with Roberto Nardi and his team.

Wings!

2011-06-09T23:26:00.001-04:00

My flight left D.C. around 7pm on a Monday and I was due to arrive in Rome around 9:30am on Tuesday (Italy is 6 hours ahead). I couldn't sleep on the plane, even though I felt utterly exhausted most of the flight. At some point after watching "Finding Nemo" (the only decent choice for 'entertainment'), I pressed the map button to see where in the world I was. The graphic showed our happy little plane off the coast of Limerick, Ireland, so I opened my window to have a look. Of course it was mostly clouds since we were over 35,000 feet up, but I did catch the sunrise.

This picture freaks me out a bit since it looks like an engine fire or something, but at the time I thought it was one of the most amazing things I had seen. Later, I would stare out the window, until light turbulence kicked in -- it made me feel ill to see the wing kind of bending up and down so I would pull the window shade and either play my mp3 player (always Interpol's newest) or cry.

Even though it was daytime, looking at the wing also reminded me a bit of "Twilight Zone: The Movie." You know the part.

Watching this clip, I just had a revelation. THIS must be where my flying phobia came from! It still freaks me out -- after all these years. Enough of that!

I would go back to the map and was especially interested in the south of France, because I knew then it wasn't much farther. Here is a smaller jet speeding beneath us.

How relieved was I when we landed? Fiumicino (also known as Leonardo da Vinci airport) is located at the ancient Roman seaport of Ostia Antica. It's never fun preparing for a landing over water, in this case the Tyrhennian Sea. The water gets closer and closer as we drop in altitude, we bank in this direction-and-that, seem to stall in mid-air, and then hit the ground. Dr. Stevens led me through the Italian soldiers with German shepherds, passport control, and customs. We emerged to a crowd of well-dressed people holding signs with passenger's names/companies on them. Farthest away was Francesca with a Randolph College sign. We joined the group of students who had already landed and waited for stragglers. Randolph alum Via showed me the simple ins and outs of the airport cafe, paying and holding my receipt out for a shot of espresso (actually called caffe). With a packet of sugar and the tiniest of spoons, I was set!

Aero-hostile.

2011-06-09T00:31:00.002-04:00

Anyone who knows me knows this: I have a flying phobia. I have found ways through the years to postpone flying or to avoid it all together. Part of the reason we moved back east was because I wasn't sure when I would see my parents again. The days leading up to a flight cause great distress, and usually involve me in the fetal position on our bed, going crazy with racing thoughts, panic, and nausea. I imagined never flying again but I wondered if I would ever get to Europe. My French roots were calling me & I felt obligated to visit Paris (and since I'm an art history major -- duh!). An unexpected school-organized trip to Italy seemed to appear out of nowhere (more on that later) & I felt destined to go.
I applied for this trip knowing I would have to fly. When I was accepted to go I immediately broke out in tears. Not out of joy but fear! I even tried to get out of the trip twice, knowing my plane ticket offered no refund. I thought maybe May 16th would not come and I could stop worrying. Why had I done this to myself?

So, I'm back and I'm still alive. My plane did not fall into the ocean; I was so sure it would. I read about the Air France flight falling at 11,000 feet per minute. At the 3 minute mark the plane hit the Atlantic, a giant belly flop. I didn't want to drift to the sea floor! I didn't want to get hijacked like the Alitalia flight to Rome and nearly diverted to Libya! I wondered if I would be the one to go for the emergency exit mid-flight ("GET ME OFF THIS PLANE! NOW!") and have to be subdued by flight attendants and brave passengers. Though I still was freaked out, a gentle sedative eased my panic enough to board the plane. I even had to admit to myself I was in a zone, not unlike before neurosurgery last year. Scared but peaceful.

Dulles Airport was a madhouse and I was devastated when it was time to say goodbye to Ethan and the girls. I thought they would sit with me until it was time to board (that shows you how much I know about flying). Instead I was shuffled down to the security check and found my way to the gate. Luckily my professor, Dr. Susan Stevens, was on the same flight & we chatted before boarding. She seemed to view flying as an everyday annoyance, a means to an end. I tried to carry that attitude but it didn't work. (I had no seatmate, which was great and awfully convenient for bathroom trips.) We were delayed by weather but eventually made it out to the runway.

There was a line of us waiting to take off. It was horrifying and fascinating. I remembered the pilot who I met at work who told me the most dangerous part of my trip would be the drive to the airport. Hmph. Taking off is exciting and dreadful. More dreadful if the woman sitting behind you (& whose husband died from Agent Orange) is joking with her seatmate about whether or not the plane will take off or fall back toward the earth.

Up.

Come on United 966, you can do it!

Over the suburbs! Getting higher and waiting to level out.

Through the clouds.

Cloud-watching to pass the time. And I didn't even throw up on myself! Only 8 more hours to go!

Christening of the Maiden Voyage: Marcello!

2011-06-08T22:40:00.001-04:00