Carnevale di Venezia

What is it about wearing a costume that feels liberating? That grants a certain freedom? The freedom from ourselves and to be anyone, or anything, we want to be. The disguise seems to give us power and mystique -- to tell us, "Anything is possible."

In America, the possibilities are endless for just the one night in October, but at Carnevale in Italy, playful mischief runs rampant in the cobbled streets of Venice.

Piazza San Marco is usually the place to be during the weeks of Carnevale where people of all shapes, all sizes, and all colors of the spectrum are seen. Venetians will go out of their way to impress both the locals and the tourists with their elaborately decorative masks and dress, walking the streets and posing for pictures. But Carnevale is more than that.

History of Carnevale

The celebrations of carnevale are rumored believed to have began after the victory of the "Repubblica della Serenissima" -- or Venice at that time -- against Ulrico, Patriarch of Aquileia, in 1162. Rejoicing, the Venetians celebrated their victory in San Marco Square.

The dancing and dressing up in rich and colorful garments went on for several centuries until the 17th century. And if today's standards of Carnevale are any indication, sounds like that would have been one helluva party in that time! Unfortunately, the festival met its decline in the 18th century.

After a long absence, the carnival returned in 1979. The Italian government decided to bring back the festivities to share Venezia's culture and history by using Carnevale as the centerpiece for their efforts. Today, around 3 million visitors attend the event of the festival.

Behind the Mask

Wearing masks is a common practice during Carnevale and are traditionally worn from December 26th to Shrove Tuesday (we may commonly call this "Fat" Tuesday) just before the start of Lent.

Here are some common masks worn at Carnevale:

The Bauta

The Columbina

Medico della Peste

The Moretta

The Volto (Larva)

Let the Celebrations Begin

The huge "Festa Veneziana" sets the stage for the beginning of Carnevale, inviting guests in with poetry, music, and colors on the banks of Cannaregio.

The Best Masked Costume Contest is held twice daily throughout Carnevale at the Gran Teatro of Piazza San Marco. Here, parades, street artists, masked groups and traditional dancers perform on the stage of the Gran Teatro.

The parade of the "Marie's" to San Marco Square

Another one of the many activities of Carnevale is the "Festa delle Marie." Traditionally, the Venetian Doge would offer extravagant jewelry as a bridal dowry to 12 beautiful Venetian maidens every year. These maidens are considered to be the most beautiful in all of Venice.

The festivities during Carnevale are not in short supply with everything to entertain you. Music, singing, dancing and, of course, mischief are around every corner of the winding narrow streets of Venice. But with all of the activities going on there is only one rule to keep in mind: Carnevale ogni scherzo vale ~ Anything goest at Carnevale...

NOTE: NONE of these photos were taken by me nor do they belong to me.

Are you my type?

Morbid Anatomy... certainly lives up to its name, and the font does not help either. The type is very small and really thin. It was a strain to read or to even want to keep reading this blog.

A Cup Of Jo
This blog's typography was very easy to read. The font is probably around 12px, so not real big but I didn't feel like my eyes were straining. The type of font was simple and it's an interesting blog as well.

A blog to "spark your fancy"

Recently, I've been checking out cool blogs to follow. Ones that "spark my interest" or "suit my fancy"... OR I just looked up these blogs for an assignment. I'll let you decide.

Anyways, I came across this blog called Opinionator in Technorati's list of top blogs. What's really cool about this blog is the different content it provides. Anything from writing tips to historical facts about the Civil War (facts you didn't know... or might be interested in)-- written in a narrative style. This blog contains various writers with different interests who blog day-to-day. What draws me to the writing though is if there is only a few writers that I enjoy reading I can simply read posts by them specifically.

If you're looking for a blog with some color and flair to catch your eye then you might be a little disappointed. Opinionator is a New York Times blog forum, so they've spent little time in putting up photos that look like they were uploaded from Instagram or pretty colored font. It's very professional... because it's the bloody NEW YORK TIMES!

It's good writing. Pure, unadulterated, and simple. You might have to dust off that Webster's Dictionary to brush up on a few forgotten words, but the writing is simple enough to keep you attention.

BEWARE: You might run into some writers whose views may piss you off... it is, after all, an opinion page.

Happy blogging!

Blogs for you!

Opinionator

La Dulce Vida ~ The Sweet Life

The Verge

Gothamist

Laughing Squid

Birthday Celebrations!

         "Text me whenever you get off work!" was the message I received from my roommate an hour ago.
         My curiosity spiked at this rare request as I wondered what she was planning, but I proceeded to send her a simple answer for her simple request.
         "I'm getting off work."
         After I checked that everything was clean (or as clean as it could be), I gathered my backpack full of various and tedious homework, heaved it over my back with a small grunt, and quickly shut all the lights off and locked up for the night. My pace heading back to my dorm room was neither slow nor quick because I had my suspicions for the mysterious text message. However, I dared not assume its meaning, so I relaxed and enjoyed the night breeze. I even paused momentarily to watch the heated volleyball game next to the West Hall dorms. It appeared to be a game of "boys versus girls." The boys managed to muster intimidating war-cries as the girls gave their playful taunts. The game continued, though halfheartedly because they were enjoying the night with friends.
        I continued on my lonesome trek to the girls' dorm when I came face-to-face with one of my most hated adversaries. The automatic door next to Buddy's Cafeteria. This stupid hunk of blue tin contained an automatic keyhole that should open automatically if you turned your key "like so." This would be very convenient if your hands were full, or you were handicapped. Except for one drawback... It inconveniently never works!
       I then began another long and arduous battle with the door, all the while trying to hold in a few choice obscenities I wished to yell at that moment. (We wouldn't want to scare the young freshman or foreign exchange students now would we?!). With one final grunt I was able to claim yet another victory against my foe.
       Door: 9; Leslie: 5.
       "Another day, we will meet again," I though to myself.
       I made my way through the maze that is West Hall, twisting and turning, going up these stairs going down those till I finally reached my room with exhaustion from the weight of my burden. I unlocked my door with slight anticipation, but even being somewhat prepared I was still taken by surprise.
        An unpracticed rendition of the "Happy Birthday Song" accompanied with the beautiful melody of acoustic strings picked by experienced hands filled my room and into the hallway. Streamers of orange and white webbed across the ceiling, and three orange balls hung loosely from above. A huge smile flashed across my face seeing all the girls I had recently made friends with just a few weeks before there to join me in celebrating my birthday. A small piece of chocolate cake sat on one of our desk chairs in the middle of the room with five sparking candles. My RA allowed this minor breach of the dorm rules with the candles as she recorded all of this on her iPhone.
        After the song had ended, I hesitantly started blowing out the candles as my suspicions were met with confirmation. These were candles that relit themselves after I exhausted all of my air supply just moments before. With the room filling with laughter at my failure to successfully blow out the candles, the others began to help me with this task so that I could enjoy the cake.
        As I sat there comfortably among friends, I felt the long day ending on a good note as casual conversation and beautiful music drifted through the air.

The Diary of a Caffeine Addict - Part 1

             It’s a much-hated process, getting up in the morning.

 I hear the melodic chimes of my alarm as I press snooze for only the tenth time. I look at the clock with heavy lidded eyes. Unable to make out the numbers I blink twice, three, then a fourth time trying to clear my vision.

9 o’clock.

Realizing that I have a class at ten, I begin to consider how much time I can lay in bed before I have to get up. Ten minutes go by as I carefully ponder this riddle, and I softly curse to myself knowing those were precious minutes to my morning rituals. I push myself to a sitting position and grimace when I see the floor below. My bed lays five feet in the air on a sturdy wooded loft, which happens to be very annoying to get in and out of.

“I need coffee,” I say to myself as I lazily make my way to the foot of the bed.

I quickly go through my morning practices that have become so ingrained into me since the age of two, and wonder if I should make a pot of coffee before class. With annoyance I remember that I have yet to unpack my coffee pot, which sits in its box four feet above my freshly straightened brown hair. With a few grumbles, I finish putting the rest of my eye make-up on and gather my stuff for class.

            Too late to make coffee myself, I resign myself to the fact that I will have to make the five minute walk to Starbucks this morning. With only 15 minutes to spare before my morning class, I decide to power walk all the way to my designation. I can get some exercise this morning.

            I reach the door to the Nigh Center only to be thrown back in to hopeless resignation. Starbucks, being practically the only place to get coffee, buzzes with the talk of early morning risers. I hesitate for a second and other coffee goers take advantage of this and cue up behind the already long line. The line moves slowly to the cash register manned by a new trainee and I silently profess my annoyance at this.

            Finally, reaching the register I quickly give my order knowing that I am certain to be late to my first class.

            “I would like a grande Pumpkin Spice Latte,” I state with as much fake cheeriness as I can muster.

            “Oh, I’m so sorry, but we are out of Pumpkin Spice,” she says with what I am uncertain is a smile or a grimace. “Would you like anything else?”

            My shoulders sag from the weight of this sour insult to my request. I scan the menu, spit out my order, and move along with the flow of happy customers. I know at this point that my class should be starting, so I try and ready myself for the walk back. I grab my coffee, take a few quick sips while burning my tongue in the process, and make a dash to the Mass Communication building.

            I arrive to the classroom five minutes late, but the professor has not yet shown up.

            Whew! Crisis averted!

            I take my seat and proceed to take a few sips of coffee, and feel my brain becoming more active. A few minute later, my professor shows up to tell us that our guest speaker will not be coming because she is stuck in traffic.

            “Class dismissed,” he announces to a class of startled students.

            I sag in my chair from this indignation and consider going back to bed whenever I get back to my room.

           

To Be Continued…

Walk it Out

            Have you ever noticed the peculiar difference in the way we walk?

            There seem to be many different ways to walking when it comes to getting from one place to the next. I wonder if it has to do with our personalities, our mood at that moment, or simply the way our bodies are built. Maybe even all of the above!

            For instance, a person could walk with long strides, quick steps, a casual stroll, lethargic tread, or a loping gate. Even these narrow categories can be divided into sub categories.

            But I am unable to ponder this mystery further as yet another foreign exchange student, who prides herself in never being late, flees across campus nearly taking me out in the process. I now ponder the position she would play on a football team. It’s a toss up between Wide Receiver and Linebacker.