Benvenuto! If living in Italy is your dream, I’d love to be a resource.
I created Italywise.com to share my journey of living in Italy as an American Expat. For me, moving to Italy required great preparation and diligence, as did navigating the many legalities of becoming an Italian resident. I depended heavily on the advice and experience of others who had already made the journey, so I know the value of resources that can help you build a plan to execute your dream of living in Italy!
My story has multiple parts, and so I have organized this blog accordingly. Some people mistakenly assume, by leaving life in the U.S., I effectively entered retirement. I have an allergic reaction to that word because I am hungry to learn and do. And, living in Italy affords me the opportunity to embrace and develop ALL of my interests. Being an artist and writer is hard-coded into my DNA, so I can’t tell my full-story without sharing my creative journeys as well.
I hope you’ll find ItalyWise intuitive and easy (don’t hesitate to contact me with feedback).
I’ve endeavored to provide valuable information and tips on not only moving to Italy but thoughts on navigating the requirements and legalities of becoming a resident here. You’ll find tips for buying a house (fairly easy) and buying a car (not so easy), tips for navigating the permesso di soggiorno and residency process, and a host of other necessities of daily life in Italy.
I write about the Italian culture, and hopefully, I can alert you to potential missteps when assuming the “American Way” applies everywhere.
While the practicalities of being an Italian resident still occupy a good part of my time, I’m not concentrating on exploring Italy and writing about and photography the gems of my discoveries. Hopefully, I’ll share some perspectives that will lead you off the well-worn path.
I would be remiss if I told the story of my “new” life in Italy, without sharing the emotional and psychological journey that accompanies starting a new life. I’m learning more about myself, and how life flows.
While I worked for many years as a creative director, I’ve always nurtured my identity as a fine artist, photographer, and writer. I hope you’ll enjoy seeing my visual expression as a complement to my written accounts of living in Italy.
I am visually enamored with unexpected color stories, and I’m incredibly grateful when I have the awareness to see a scene like the one above orchestrating itself. Again, this is a life lesson in allowing things to happen, rather than trying to contrive something according to an idea of what I think “might” be interesting.
This photo was taken this past winter while I was in Venice for 2 1/2 days. Two of these days were characterized by high winds, high waters and unrelenting rain. Normally this would be a recipe for ensuring I stay inside and bury my head in a book. Instead, thanks to the urging of Simone, we forged through the elements and I became a periscope for this unique time in Venice. While I was happy to capture a variety of scenes as they presented themselves, I was happiest with this one, which was one of the last images I took as we were on our way to the vaporetto stop to head back to the Santa Lucia train station, and to our Italo train ride back to Rome.
Earlier I had been casting aspersions about the “cheap, makeshift boots” being sold in massive amounts by opportunistic vendors. Little did I know these would become a central part of this photo. I love the orange boots, the orange “legs” of the pigeons, and the orange buildings helping to frame the image.
I’m grateful to the photo for reminding me not to label or judge things according to conditioned expectations of beauty.
Be sure to check out this and other photos and paintings in my online gallery.
Trastevere’s Antica Caciara is paradise on earth when it comes to gourmet cheese and cured meats. “Caciara” is an Italian word meaning “confusion, bedlam, hubbub, muddle; mess, disorder.” The experience inside this shop is full of energy – energy from customers queueing up to make sure they don’t miss out on the fresh sheep’s milk ricotta prominently displayed in one of the front windows. And, you’d better grab some when you see they have it, because it will definitely make you want to slap someone out of enthusiasm once you taste it. I can’t believe it’s less than five euro a kilo. No wonder it flies out the door.
Antica Caciara is the absolute best place for cheese, prepared meats and baccala.
But, there’s more, loads more – a vast assortment of artisanal cheeses, and every variety of cured meat you could hope for. At one entrance you practically have to shoulder your way past a huge display of guanciale, which is made from pork cheek or jowl, and is an essential ingredient (a preferred cut over traditional pancetta) in Bucatini all’Amatriciana. In case you don’t know, Bucatini all’Amatriciana is one of Rome’s hallmark dishes, originating just outside of the city in the town Amatice in the Sabine Hills.
When I go to Antica Caciara, which is often, I load up on ricotta, a special spicy salame, and a salame with fennel. The people who run the shop couldn’t be more gentile. They recognize me now, and they always greet me warmly. What a great business to be delivering a big slice of culinary paradise to eager customers. If you’re in Rome’s Trastevere neighborhood, be sure to check it out, especially if you want to fill your bag for a gourmet picnic, and then head up the hill to see Bramante’s Tempietto, and one of the most spectacular panoramic views of Rome.
A profuse display of guanciale, an essential ingredient in Bucantini Amatriciana
Who was she? Author Dianne Hale weaves a fascinating tale to answer this question about, arguably, the most famous painting of all time. Mona Lisa: A Life Discovered is the result of in-depth research into both Leonardo di Vinci and his subject, Lisa Gherardini. Such research included on-the-ground “digging” into antique documents (records and letters) buried in massive files stored in Florence, Italy. Ms. Hale is a woman on a mission. And, that mission is to bring Leonardo’s subject, of whom we know little, into greater focus.
I debated whether to read this book, because I knew once I started reading, I risked wiping away much of the mystery and speculations that we’ve all enjoyed for so many years about the Mona Lisa and her enigmatic smile. But, I like historical detective work, so I decided to proceed.
I found Mona Lisa: A Life Discovered to be an engaging read, but not for the reasons I had anticipated. In seeking to piece together the chain of events leading to the painting of the Mona Lisa, and its “travels” after completion, Ms. Hale paints a vivid picture of life in Italy during the Renaissance – particularly in Florence. I love following a mystery while gaining greater historical context in the process. I learned more about Leonardo di Vinci. Enough details exist about him to allow the reader to sense his personality, his willfulness, his brilliance, and his capriciousness in flitting from one project to another while leaving unfulfilled promises and works in his wake. Lisa Gherardini, is a different story, however. While Ms. Hale has amassed admirable historical details of her life and her subsequent marriage to Francesco del Giocondo, a silk and cloth merchant, little exists to create any sense of her personality. Here Ms. Hale must stick to conjecture and supposition – lots of “What if?” Perhaps this is the unfortunate by-product of women having second-class status, and less attention being given to a housewife and mother in the chronicles of history.
After years and years of painting solely with watercolors, I have completed my first oil painting. Whew. My perfectionism characteristics had been setting me up for possible failure, but the better part of me reminded me that this was the first step in learning, and even failure can lead to development of style and technique. I guess there are lots of life lessons in that as well. If I only proceed with the assurance of success, or of a predetermined outcome, the borders of my universe are going to be fairly narrow and confining.
Many people have asked why I would I dive into the world of oil painting when I have achieved pretty good success with watercolor. The simple answer is “scale”. I’ve been wanting to expand my scale of expression. Watercolors seem to be more limiting in this regards – not only from the size of the materials, l.e. watercolor paper, but the medium itself. Watercolors can have a life of their own, and painting with them is often a race against the clock.
How nice it has been to work on a larger “canvas” and with paints that dry slowly and allow me to work in greater subtleties and detail. The flip side of that is that working in oil has required great patience on my part, since the paint dries much more slowly. Another life lesson there – the process of building, of taking one step at a time, and then trusting in the end result.
I’ve titled this painting “Kindness” because that is the overwhelming sense I get when looking at this man. I remember meeting him on the island of Tinos, in Greece, several years ago, and he was peddling his homemade wine. Those of you who know me and my work, know that I have a love affair with older faces and the unique map of lines etched in them. These lines convey so much, particularly in regards to a person’s history and their character.
Now I am taking a breather, as I begin packing my art supplies for the move back to Umbria for most of the spring and summer. My next canvas will be even larger, and I am contemplating my next subject matter. I’ll let you know what I choose, and how my next oil painting is progressing.
For this and other paintings and photography, please be sure to visit my online gallery.
If you’re serious about learning to speak Italian properly, this is the school in Rome for you.
I recently completed a four-week intensive Italian language course at Torre di Babele Roma. At the conclusion of my last class my brain was beyond saturated with the complexities of Italian grammar, but I could not have been happier with the experience. And, I could not have been in more capable and more loving hands. This school is a class act in every regard.
I researched and visited another prominent Italian language school in Rome prior to choosing Torre di Babele, but I just wasn’t “feeling the love”. I’m sure the other school is capable, but I needed an environment where I would not feel stressed. I’m a serious student, but learning, for me, is most fruitful when the teaching includes smiles and patience. Thankfully, I took the trip to visit Torre di Babele, and found plenty of these traits.
The school is located in a lovely residential neighborhood, just a short walk from the Policlinico metro stop. Elegant wrought iron gates greet you, and the building looks like a stately home, nestled amongst lush greenery.
When I first visited the school I met with the director and she made time to sit with me and find out what I was looking for in a school and what I wanted to do with my Italian studies. She was also getting a sense of my aptitude and level of speaking Italian. She asked me if I had time to take a 20-minute test to assess my skills. I guess my years of doing Rosetta Stone paid off, and I was placed in the Level 4 class – that’s like a beginning intermediate level. Even then, I was advised to study conditional verb tenses in preparation for the class.
This is one of my favorite photographs – for more personal reasons, which are inherent in the title. I have lived a very full life, yet sometimes the dark side of fullness is a cacophony of too much thinking and doing. Too much time in my head analyzing and labeling things, and too much time preoccupied with the future. Some philosophers have called it “intellectual violence”.
When I look back at this photo I’m reminded to “Be here now.” This photo was taken near the lovely Abbazia di Sant’Antimo, south of Montalcino (think spectacular Brunello wines) in Tuscany. I come across reflective moments like this in many rural Italian areas. In Umbria, I often see my neighbor, a woman in her 70’s, sitting out on her top step with her walking cane leaning against her, while she gazes, seemingly for hours, across her fields of vegetables to the spectacular mountain vista that surrounds all of us. Some people might look at the lives of such “salt of the earth” people and think they have boring repetitive lives. Maybe there is spaciousness and freedom in such lives that aren’t filled with non-stop “doing” or over-crowded by a world of constant digital connectedness. I suspect many of these people are more alive than we can imagine.
I pray to live a life outside of my head, and to reside more in my heart. I pray to experience truly what is right in front of me, right now.
To see this and other photographs and paintings be sure to visit my online gallery.
Cutting back the overgrowth in all areas of your life can free up space and energy for the things that really count.
Friday, March 13. Today, I was furiously attacking the shrubbery in the front of my Umbrian home. How dare it be thriving so much that it would impede the amazing view of the surrounding mountains? But, why was I pruning with such fervor? Then I realized this was a metaphor for aspects of my life that have become so overgrown that the “view” to the rest of the world was becoming obscured.
I have a wonderful life. I live in italy, one of the most beautiful places on earth. I have a wonderful home and an amazing partner. So, what’s the problem?
I have been in Umbria for almost five days. I came here to tackle a ton of stuff to get the house in readiness for making it home base for most of spring and summer. An ambitious “to do” list for my six days here (I’m heading back to Rome tomorrow night) was heavily weighted towards purging and pruning. Simone recently has been steering me towards books and online resources for simplifying and “tidying up” one’s life. I think he was sharing this information as a form of intervention. You see, I’ve allowed parts of my life to become overgrown and I have not been traveling “light”. I’ve been a great example of consumerism, subscribing eagerly to the belief that by adding more material possessions I was nailing a key part of the formula for happiness. Now I realize the pursuit of more has been crowding out who and what is truly adding to my happiness.
While this isn’t an earth-shattering realization for many of you, it is for me. Making a public confession is cathartic. As I write this, I’m wondering why it has taken so long for me to wake up to the facts that I am a hoarder – not the extreme kind you’ve seen on the news or in documentaries, where people live amongst stacks and stacks of useless stuff while sharing their living quarters with dozens of cats or dogs. I’ve been a hoarder simply because I’ve accumulated more stuff than I need or use. When I open my closets they’re jammed with so many choices (shoes included) that I become overwhelmed and opt for something familiar and comforting. Could my happiness really be about quality and not quantity? Could I feel more spacious and centered with less things vying for my attention?
As of today, I have officially donated and “retired” at least 1/2 of my clothes and shoes. This involved five giant, packed, heavy-duty garbage bags. I almost strained my back trying to get them out of the house. Mind you, this was already after divesting myself of about 1/3 of my stuff when I moved from the States. Obscene? Yes. And, I am tempted to make yet another pass. I won’t believe myself anymore when I tell myself that I’ll use something “someday”. It’s a lie.
Soon I will tackle other areas of accumulation – most notably my computer data. Don’t laugh. Now that I have a new MacBook Pro to replace my very old iMac and MacBook Pro (over six years old), I’m downsizing, and planning on working with only my new laptop paired with a larger monitor. However, I’m a bit more intimidated by this task because I am weighed down by data – files and files of photos and documents. Again, I’ve been kidding myself when I say I’ll use it all. Time for major data pruning.
The list for pruning goes on and on…including the prolific growth outdoors here in Umbria. AND, and last (and certainly not the least) are the contents of my overactive mind. That is a topic worthy of its own post.
Staying on top of all of these things, and not allowing the same accumulations to insidiously creep into my life, is a step towards a freer mind and heart. More time and attention for the things that bring authentic happiness – my partner, family, friends, art, writing, and this wonderfully inspiring country called Italy!
A seagull’s perspective of the high waters in Venice.
Just a little over a month ago we were in Venice during two days of very challenging rain, wind and high waters. While the weather didn’t make getting around the city easy, the conditions provided me a different perspective on the city. Not only in Venice, but in other cities in Italy, I’ve been asking myself, “How does a bird experience its surroundings?” So, I played around with this. In this image, taken in Piazza San Marco, I risked dropping my camera into the flood waters. And, given that this is Venice and the city has a reputation for not having the most sanitary water accumulating in public places, I also risked taking an onerous biological sample back with me to Rome. Thankfully my grip on the camera was solid.
Here you see the result of my “playing around”. I love how the seagull is the focal point, in a way that doesn’t dominate the photo. The Doge’s Palace and its reflection provide the framework. I plan to explore the birds eye view in future photography pursuits. So, as always, stay tuned!
Thursday morning, March 4, 2014. Beauty can show up in the most unexpected ways when you open your eyes and step aside from your normal perspectives.
I woke up this morning…reluctantly. Outside was cold, steady rain. I’m a sunshine man. I live to see the sun, and I usually pout internally when the sun is in hiding, and when I have to face inconvenient weather elements. Still, I roused myself, took a shower, had a strong coffee, bundled up and headed out to catch my bus to my intensive Italian language class. I couldn’t shrug off the class, because I paid handsomely for the course (worth every euro), and I didn’t want to lose my bearings in the middle of a very important segment on pronoun placements when using imperative verb forms.
My normal commuting strategy for less-than-ideal weather is to pop in my ear buds, navigate my Iphone to YouTube or ITunes, and shut out the world until I arrive at my destination. But, today, I was more keenly aware of this inclination and made a different choice. I purposely packed away my ear buds and made a conscious decision to pay attention to the world around me. I put my Iphone in readiness as a camera.
I looked everywhere, observing how the citizens of Rome were dealing with the weather. I first scanned the landscape inside the bus, and then my gaze move outside. And, I discovered that the rainy window on my left was presenting me with a different perspective on the world. So, as we approached the subsequent bus stops, I started clicking ways. Here you see the results – a pretty significant departure from my usual photographic style. With only slight color enhancements, these images are basically un-retouched. I love how they capture the mood and essence of the morning and the weather, and how they feel more like paintings than photographs.
I’m experimenting and playing. I can hear the voice of my Momma Liz urging me to play, to color outside of the lines of normal convention…and to not be afraid to fail. Thanks Mom, you still reside within me and inspire me.
While this post is primarily about art and creativity, today’s experience is helping me to relax the tenacious grip I have on the steering wheel of life. I’m learning to let go of a mountain of conditioning and preconceived notions of how life is supposed to show up, and to quit trying to control everything. Life has a funny way of taking you to places and experiences that can be pretty damn amazing if you just get out of the way.
A quick and simple shot through the rainy window on my daily bus ride.
Art and magic is everywhere. A rainy bus window provides a beautiful filter for the world outside.
Caravaggio’s Medusa(one of my favorite paintings in the Uffizi) aptly illustrates my first reactions to the abyss of Italian verb tenses and conjugations.
Sto nuotando in un oceano di verbi Italiani. I am swimming in an ocean of Italian verbs.
I’ve just completed three weeks of intensive Italian language classes and have proceeded to the next level. “Yay!”, but I really have to commit this stuff to memory by practicing as much as I can. This isn’t like a dreaded, required college course that you take, pass and leave in the review mirror as quickly as possible. My success at building a robust life in Italy depends on my having a strong command of the language.
This most recent level was level 5. Believe me, this is difficult stuff, unless you are a prodigy when it comes to languages (like my dear friend Arun). I’m a bit envious of my fellow students at the school who come from other romance languages like Spanish, French and Portuguese since Italian shares many similarities with them. For English speakers, and students from vastly different languages like Japanese, Russian, and Swedish, I feel a greater kinship. I see the same looks of confusion on their faces when we’re forming sentences with a different logic and syntax from our native tongues.
Moments exist when I “get it” and I actually can put together a sentence that isn’t remedial. I won’t allow myself to feel like I’m stuck in the Italian equivalent of the Dick, Jane and Spot series from my first grade in elementary school. To achieve this I have to practice, practice, practice…and then practice some more. For this reason I crave having additional homework exercises.