BY RUDYARD KIPLING

August is the nearly thirty year anniversary of my beloved mother’s premature death.  What an example she was!  Indeed, she was “a Man”.   She had her share of remarkable triumphs and more than her share of devastating disasters in her too-short life…and truly treated “those two impostors” with the same acceptance, grace, humility and stoicism.  I like to think she successfully instilled in me the very same virtues she lived by, that I have and will be able “to treat just the same those two impostors” with Mother’s very same exemplary acceptance, grace, humility and stoicism…and since when we teach our children we are also teaching our grandchildren… I am very proud of her strong and positive direct and indirect influence on my precious children, Mar and Michael, as well.

blissful, unforgettable summers with Mother in California.  Five-year-old Mar telling Grandma all about her day at the San Diego Zoo – and Mother listening with interest and love to every word.

Recently, I was so profoundly moved by something I read and I would like to share it with you:

” In my family, “when we said ‘I wish you enough’ we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them”. 

“I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.

I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.

I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.

I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.

I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.

I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.”

How beautiful this is!   To all of you, thanks for reading my blog and… ” I wish you enough”.

“Two roads diverged…”

From the very first time I read the poem, “The Road Not Taken” in high school, it became a favorite.  I remember discussing the different possible interpretations in class, each of us influenced by our personal experiences up to that long-ago and ripe age of 16.

As Mar grew up we shared our Poetry Hour and often read…and re-read this poignant poem by Robert Frost.  Never will I forget the expression of awareness on her face as she walked out of the house at age 15 on her way to attend  the Interlochen Arts Academy where she had chosen to study before going to Williams College.   She had always shared my fascination with this poem and chose it as the central focus of her college application essay.

 Needless to say, over the years the significance and meaning have increased for both of us:   I chose the road “less traveled by”, the more improbable of the two roads, almost 45 years ago and have always been keenly aware ” that how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back”.  Yes, I have always regretted and been “sorry I could not travel both and be one traveller”.  Yes, I have always felt the poignant nostalgia in “Oh, I kept the first for another day”, for just another day!

 The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that, the passing there
had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no feet had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference.

                                           Robert Frost

I am indeed “telling this with a sigh” after 45 years of “ages hence”, an inevitable sigh as I recall the first step, that step of no return of the “less-travelled road” that I chose that day where “two roads diverged in a yellow wood”.  I took the road “less-travelled by, and that has made all the difference”.  Where would that other road have led me?    Ages ago, “long I stood and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth;  Then took the other”.

Like me, Mar chose the “less travelled road” 27 years ago...”and that has made all the difference” to her as well.  I ask the same question:  where would that other road have led her?  Like me, “knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back”,  she nevertheless took that first step on the “less-travelled” road in the woods.

Which road did you take when your “two roads diverged” ?  “Did it make all the difference”?

We WILL get back to that discussion of the Flemish Primitives / The Northern Renaissance…so please  stayed tuned.  Also, coming soon “20 Years of Tuesdays”  and THE LIST of “A Few of My Favorite Things in Umbria”.

To those of you kind enough to follow my blog, I apologize for seemingly having disappeared from the face of the earth.  I spent the month of February with my daughter in State College, PA.  For many reasons…it was indeed a trip to remember!:  weather-related canceled flights, Arctic temperatures, frostbite and a bout of bronchitis.

 “Why in the world would you want to leave Italy to spend February in Pennsylvania”, friends asked?

The answer is simple:  VARIETY IS THE SPICE OF LIFE.

For a change, I love the silence, the glistening beauty of snow, the cold…and even wearing a polar bear-like coat. What fun. 

I love hearing the snow plows at night

I love seeing icicles

and stop signs peeping out from the snow banks

And I love my comfortable room at Mar’s and Jessi’s, such a welcome sight after a long trip

…and I love being greeted, welcomed, treated like a queen and hugged by Mar and Jessi.

I love picture-postcard winter scenes and a sense of pervading serenity, peace and stillness.

and branches laden with the freshest snow.

and looking out at icy roads.

and oh, the pleasure of an American breakfast

or a dinner of Thai food

 or and evening of Japanese with sushi

a piece of pecan pie

or a toasted bagel sandwich

As much as I love Italian art and food, what a joy to have some variety in both!

and American sandwiches – so delicious

How great it was to be surrounded by Matisse, Monet, Pissarro, Renoir, Cezanne, Modigliani, Soutine, Manet, Picasso, Van Gogh and “forget”  the Italian masters for awhile!

Chaim Soutine “The Lady in Blue” 1922

…and what about the thrill of attending a theatrical performance in English?

Ready for a change again, ready for some variety:  the joy of then returning to an early spring is tripled!  The bright blue skies seem brighter, the mild days seem warmer, the flowers more magnificent

the countryside greener

the herbs more fragrant

and the Italian food more amazing than ever!

Yes, VARIETY IS THE SPICE OF LIFE!

Positano

so… is it Si or No?

Years ago during a wonderful visit of my mother from California, we were excitedly planning a trip to the Amalfi Coast. It was Mother’s first time to places she had often dreamed about:  Sorrento, Capri, Amalfi, Ravello, Positanto.  Her anticipation was palpable!  Until the last minute our trip was uncertain due to my husband’s difficulty in getting away from work. Mother, SO excited and hopeful about the trip, anxiously asked Maurizio when he returned for lunch: “So,  can we go?  Are we leaving this afternoon, can we stay for several days?”. To each of her can’t wait-for-the-answer questions, Maurizio responded in the very common Italian way, saying, “Si – no?”. Frustrated after hearing repeatedly this “Si – no?” she turned to me and with annoyed exasperation asked me: “Mary, are we going or not? So is it Yes or No?”

Using the inflected word “no” to confirm the “si” made no sense to her!  
In the fast exchange of Italian dialogue, the only words which stood out, which registered with her, were “Si – no?”. Naturally she didn’t catch the inflected voice, a nuance which took years for her to discern so she was absolutely clueless whether the answer was yes or no!

the amazing, mesmerizing pastels of Positano

Every time I hear this response to a question or use this inflected voice “Si – no?” as my own answer to a question, I think of my mother’s utter confusion AND of the strangeness of this linguistic usage. Over the years other English speaking guests have noticed and been confused by this “Yes, no?”.

gorgeous Villa Cimbrone a Ravello

the dream-like quality of early evening light on the sea and Positano from Hotel San Pietro

a loving acknowledgment and thanks to my daughter, Mar, for these magnificent photos.  

This was a week to remember:  not only are we in the midst of a major move, what we call “the” move of a lifetime but my modem was accidentally broken by my cleaning lady and my email account was hacked!  Getting the former replaced and the latter secured, blocked and then reinstated took up so much of my precious time in this super busy period.

We are literally tearing our home apart, going through 40+ years of  unabashed accumulation (much of it of profound sentimental value)  as we prepare things for the movers.  Our goal is to move only the useful, the necessary …along with a minimum of what we simply cannot discard but which is hardly definable as useful or necessary.  Long lists are everywhere, piles abound under the headings of “To Throw, To Give Away, To Sell… To Decide Tomorrow” (there are some decisions which defy immediate decisions –  they need to be slept on).

Our home was fortunately…or perhaps unfortunately, large enough to accommodate what I now call “accumulation abuse” over these many years.   Anything… and more was carefully stored and labeled…ready for some possible future use…until this move made it blatantly clear that there is no plausible future use for so much of it.

We are moving to a small place on the property at Genius Loci – downsizing 4:1.  This has been a pondered and informed choice of ours…perhaps more in theory than in practice.  On paper it didn’t sound so complicated and didn’t seem that it would entail so much work.  What wasn’t measurable until we actually got into the eliminating, was the emotional and sentimental toll, the unsettling feeling of eliminating a huge hunk of our lives.  The hardest part for me is throwing the hordes of even the smallest, seemingly insignificant, drawings, notes,  the “little nothing” gifts from young Mar and Michael  (I can still see their beaming faces as they so proudly presented me with their carefully chosen souvenir type gifts from every trip we took together as a family), or their rock collections, shell collections, dusty handmade crafts made from twigs, leaves, dried flowers and even dried insects!!!, their precious crayon scribbled  “I love you”  notes left on my pillow along with a flower from the garden…their way of saying goodnight!

Never was that ill feeling of losing a huge hunk of my family life more  poignant than when I went through 39 large photo albums (before going digital) documenting these years!  Knowing, however, that this overly-detailed, exaggerated photographic 39-volume document was simply way too much for the children in the future, I saved only a fraction of the thousands of photos placing the most significant ones lovingly in two sturdy photo boxes.

 I’m trying to keep the faith – to remember  that I do firmly believe that Less is More.  The hard part is getting to that perfect balance of Less!

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As Genius Loci celebrates its 10th season, I have enjoyed pouring through old photographs and am so very pleased to share visual moments of and some thoughts from this amazing adventure.

Even with our clear vision for an inviting inn, anchored in but not limited to, Umbrian tradition (its rural setting,  antique building materials, architectural details, no-fuss furnishings, and colors), reaching our goal, nevertheless,  often seemed so far away… and so dauntingly overwhelming when we first began.

The history-filled 1880s farmhouse needed extensive renovation and ever-flexible creativity to overcome the many obstacles. It required such unwavering steadfastness and attention to detail in order to finally reach our desired goal of providing guests with a welcoming, comfortable, relaxed ambiance inn that provided luxury…but with an “easy” sense of  a feel-good rustic elegance.

We aimed to create a tranquil and refined oasis, exactly the type that we ourselves always sought/seek during our travels.  We knew/know well the certain feeling that we yearned/yearn for at the end of our culturally stimulating (and often exhausting) days exploring Italy’s endless treasures of history, natural beauty, art and world-famous food – that certain feeling where we found/find peace of mind and psychological well-being –  both so necessary to reload for more of the fascinating stimulation the following morning.

Towards our goal and in keeping with our particular genius loci (the spirit of place), we aimed for:

*  luxurious rooms ideally positioned to enjoy the sweeping views

*  an inviting outdoor portico with magnificent views and comfortable seating for quiet time

*  a large-enough panoramic solarium and pool to provide private spaces

*   delicious and beautifully-presented breakfast buffets which reflected/reflect the very best of local traditions and specialties

*  an inviting Honor Bar

*  a charmingly comfortable Library/Reading room

Enjoy the slideshow for a glimpse of our attempt to implement our vision of creating the welcoming hospitality, refinement and relaxed elegance that is Genius Loci Country Inn.

Won’t you come to experience the magic for yourself and share our 10th Anniversary Celebration?

Knowing about my art history background, one of the most common questions guests ask me is “what is your favorite painting?”  They are clearly expecting me to name one of the great Italian masters, perhaps a Botticelli or Leonardo or Raphael.  I have always answered that I loved too many to simply name just one.  Last year, a guest insisted, not satisfied with my answer.  I told him I would think it over and see him the following morning at breakfast.  When I came at 9:00 AM, he was already on the panoramic porch, smiling in anticipation of my”proclamation”.

I held a postcard in my hand, face down, as I announced that I was indeed ready to name a favorite of favorites!  I will never forget the surprised facial expression of our guest when I turned the postcard over,  proudly showing and sharing, “my favorite is Renoir’s Onions”!

While this painting was purchased by the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute in 1955, I first saw it there, in Williamstown, MA, in 1987 when I accompanied Mar on a college tour.  Because she had an Admissions interview at Williams College, we spent a few days there visiting the campus and the gorgeous area.  The highlight of the area, along with the beautiful Williams College campus, was the amazing Clark Art Institute, still today one of my favorite museums (along with the Barnes Foundation in Philadelphia) which I rank highly even when compared to many of Europe’s greatest collections.

Each and every time we visited Mar during her four years at Williams, we would spend long, blissful hours at the Collection.  Mar even gave concerts with the Williams Collegium Musicum that she directed in the Impressionists’ Room 7 with Renoir, Degas, Monet and other notables looking on!

My particular love affair with humble onions was forged long ago:  Mother was eating her favorite red onion sandwich just before I was born.  Moreover, I was assigned onions in a fifth grade vegetable-growing school project, winning first prize on my presentation of the experience:  I remember standing in front of the class, proudly showing my five onions and describing them as beautiful, intriguing in their tight inner layers and their paper-like outer skin, geometric symmetry, appealing roundness and smoothness, warm golden or burgundy colors.  I mentioned their remarkable culinary versatility, how my mother used them in so many different ways in our dinners. I told the class about their amazing taste.  I’m sure that experience was fundamental to my passion for onions.

 Onions are delicious in so many ways:   fried,

 in a sweet and sour sauce,

stuffed with an array of ingredients, 

as a pizza or a focaccia topping,

or grilled!

Renoir transports the commonplace, humble onions to absolute magnificence, treating the mundane subject matter with a skillful but “casual rigor”:

 I love the apparent haphazard arrangement of the onions and the few garlic heads piled loosely on a crumpled, nondescript kitchen linen devoid of embroidery or fancy borders.  It is important to know that Renoir painted the “Onions” during a visit to Naples in 1881.  Clearly influenced by the bold light of southern Italy, he inundates the entire painting – and literally bathes the subject – in the clearest light.   Fluid and rapid brushstrokes define the onions’ round, solid forms and skillfully capture the shiny – almost translucent – papery quality of their thin skins.   I am not surprised that Sterling Clark often stated that this was his favorite of the many paintings by Renoir in his collection.

Renoir’s other 1881 painting of Naples focuses on the hustle and bustle of daily life near the chaotic harbor. The scene is full of local flavor—characteristic Neapolitan boats, donkeys loaded with supplies, men and women carrying large baskets of goods on their heads.  In the distance, smoke exits the mouth of Vesuvio, an active volcano.  Parallel strokes of paint delineate the composition:  reds and oranges contrast with the purple and blue shadows as well as with the pastel and creamy white buildings across the Naples Bay.

The long shadows cast by the strong Mediterranean sun bespeak ever so loudly of southern Europe.  While worlds apart in many ways, these two 1861 Naples paintings share stylistic similarities:  Renoir wrote during his stay in Naples that he felt freed of the expected “classic rigor” that was prevalent in France – that he felt a unique whiff of fresh air in Naples.  In the Onions, there is no premeditation of compositional form.  Instead, it is as if the subject is portrayed in a happenstance configuration, set in stark contrast against rapid, irregular, diagonal strokes of the coolest hues of light blue and pale yellow.  No less important to its form is the Renoir’s use of subtle white and green highlights, loosely dabbled – casually here and there –  on the onions’ golden skins.

We have always grown onions and garlic in our vegetable gardens for the sheer pleasure of having our own.

Two locations in Italy are most famous for quality onions:  Tropea in Calabria and near-by Cannara in Umbria.  Various types of Cannara onions are celebrated in a September Festival in Cannara, our favorite food festival that we never miss.  Every dish on the menu has onion in its ingredients, even the amazing desserts.

How I would love to have Renoir’s Onions in my kitchen.  Perhaps I should search for a quality print of the Onions to hang in substitution and in celebration of my favorite painting!

wildflowers in Umbria

darling Zelda

          Introducing our precious little Genius Loci mascots:  Zelda, Zlatan and Glory – three adorable kittens who chose a cozy corner of the garden to come into our world last August.  They have become our adorable mascots, an entertaining and loving presence at the Inn with their antics, playfulness, cuddling and sweet ways.

playful Zlatan

shy Glory

“Only that day dawns to which we are awake.”— Henry David Thoreau, Walden

Few authors have inspired me more than Thoreau.  I find inspiration and wisdom every single time I reread his observations and thoughts.  My personal Walden surrounds me at Genius Loci, its beauty never failing to inspire thoughts of the beauty of utter simplicity.  Could a vase of roses be anymore stunning than a vase of these weeds?  If we have eyes and heart…and humility to see…we cannot help but marvel at the beauty of exquisite and utter simplicity!