v.s.e.p.r.

The other day, I bought a pair of aviators. They were street corner and sketch, but I talked my way down (too easy, bad news) to 5 euro and I was feeling a little intimidated by the stylish, sunglassed Piazza del Popolo crowd. Also, my eyes hurt.

It’s a good thing I did, because I really needed them for the best damn day of my life. I can tell you right now, the world looks damn good from a Roman moped – and far, far better when you’re staring wide-eyed through a pair of stunna shades.

I have two roommates here, Viviana and Giancarlo, and today they planned to throw a dinner party for friends on the rooftop terrace. The group would be one of actors, dancers, and musicians, members of Viviana’s acting company and Carlo’s friends as well. We spent the day running errands for the party, and to begin, Viviana offered to take me to the fish market on the moped.

Miel: “Should I hold on?”

Viviana: “Ahhhh…”

Miel: “Where do I put my hands?”

VIviana: “…Okaiy!” Lost, I swung my hands loosely around her waist as we jetted off.

On the phone with her friend Giuliano (my life saver of an English translator) as we drove, Viviana’s emphatic stream of chatter paused only when she threw back  a casual  “That iz Circo MASSimo”, or “Here is ColossEEEo” as we flew by blocks jammed with cars and a few thousand years of history. “It is nice, no, not to wait? We can pass, that is the best part about scooter.” I could think of a few more best parts. The wind in my hair, the sun on my face, the Rome all around me….

Rome. It’s a city of transience as much as it is one of tradition, history, stability. The Vittoriano of Mussolini’s day, the baroque masterpieces of the Piazza Navona, the ancient, heavenly eye of the Pantheon  – all recycle tourists weekly, if not daily. It’s this same dichotomy that strikes me when it comes to Viviana and her friends. Their lives change by the moment. They choose to change them. It’s not that they don’t plan, it’s not that they don’t think. They do.

They plan, they think, and then they do.

Cliche or not, they’re following their dreams.






















Published by crosswalkmuse

I’ve never lived a moment I haven’t wanted to capture; I’ve never loved a view, a sky, a face, without wishing for a camera in my hand. Some may call this desire to click every instant into eternity a curse. They may be right – the longing always leads to letdown, for it is never quite possible to translate life, vibrant reality, onto film. I am in search of that perfect image, though, and always will be.

4 thoughts on “v.s.e.p.r.

  1. Write to your mother. She wants to know how you are and about your adventures, and your fun. 🙂

  2. i love the stunning colors, the water frozen midway in their fall to whatever kinds of shell-fish those are, the slabs of fish captured in your lenses, your writing, and that picture where the guy is caressing the girl and at the bottom, as if hiding, are the hands directing the light source…and most of all i love you!

  3. oh MIEL! Italy is like, the PERFECT place for your photography style to blossom! it has all those vibrant colors that are just waiting to be enhanced by your eye and hand, I can totally see this beauty that is your photography style unfolding as your roam and have the most enviable summer ever. Not to mention some of the most gorgeous human beings on the planet, who aren’t afraid to be captured in time. I mean, that old dude is just killing it. Killing it! *sigh* oh to be you.

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