Light

During the season of the shortest days and longest nights...

So many of us long for more daylight, and celebrate the winter solstice because it signifies the advent of longer days. 

(I'm not one of those people, but it's pretty clear I've got frigid blood and the capability to see well in the dark - probably courtesy of my ancestors)

I grew up in a relatively small town. Some traditional holiday lights installed in the even smaller center of that town were all I ever saw. And in the American cities I subsequently lived in from young adulthood and onward, some areas of those cities might have had some pedestrian areas, but they were never as pedestrian-oriented as similar areas in European cities. 

So while I'm not a Christmas fiend by any stretch of imagination, I have come to appreciate the holiday lights that appear here and elsewhere. It's a time when artists are invited to help make cities appear creatively festive. It enables evening shoppers to literally see better as they prepare for gift giving and gatherings.

I've also come to appreciate the Christmas markets of (mostly European) cities. Against the rare occasion of my childhood, involving a church holiday sale or a gathering where people made apple butter, the holiday markets of my adulthood are really enjoyable - even when the offerings are lame or tacky or otherwise completely inappropriate for you. Even though I lost Whamaggedon before the month of December began, I still enjoyed participating in a holiday market.  I was rather struck by the enlightenment of some shoppers who appreciated my abstract work...when has that ever happened before? Never.

First up, Amsterdam.

We were there for a concert performed by The Spouse's favorite band, but we had some time to explore other things.  

A cute little holiday market near the Rijksmuseum.

Lights strung up in trees bordering a canal...

....or like so many ornaments. Sure it was rainy, but wet surfaces at night only reflect more light.

And at the concert?
Light pulses over this crowd, teeming with restrained movement...rather like an organism.

In nearby Leiden, there was the filtered, cool light on a windy walk to the town's holiday market.

That same light reflects off the canals, permeating the place with gray.

Until you reach the market, floating on a long canal boat, with music and twinkling lights...

And, heaven help us, churros?!

There is the dim light in the cathedral of Leiden. 

And the dwindling, blue light falling on holiday shoppers as we walk back to the train.

And back in Rome....the first event for lighting was the turning on of holiday lights over the famous shopping street, Via Condotti.  To herald this event, the Roman carabinieri band marches and plays. 

The lights are so bright that we are quite well lit at 9pm, honestly. 

In this case, lights are designed to delight both adult and young children.

On what is considered by some to be one of the top ten most beautiful shopping streets in the world - Via Cornari - quite near my apartment, more lights...

In Trastevere:

In the weak winter light under a loggia, my holiday market table:

I still can't quite believe that I actually sold things.

In Turin, artists descend on the city and provide light displays that are quite unique.

Of course, more traditional lights in select piazzas appear during our chocolate tasting tour.

Light reflecting off of shiny foil wrappers.

There is the light glinting off a spoon, or filtered through a glass handle on a hot mug.

There is the light of discovery: hot, dark chocolate with orange, so thick that it almost doesn't qualify as a drink...wonderful. 

More light installations by artists.

The light of constellations...

Then there is the glow from a Roman holiday market puppet show.

Honey bees, working in the dark.

Yeah - more fried dough.

Thanks to Rome's decision to replace its more romantic yellow streetlight bulbs with cooler, whiter bulbs, there's enough light to be amused by some street art.

Lights are strung onto climbing plants that help festoon a restaurant's facade.

There are no independent ideas in Rome at this point in the year...everyone is out, at nighttime hours, also taking in the scenery.

And lights point the path, like an airport runway, to the seat of Western Christendom.

A walk on the via Appia Antica, which was once lined with tomb monuments for ancient Romans, is actually a good independent idea, as the crowds were a bit lessened.  It was great to see the hiker types of Rome and its environs, taking in the sights on an absolutely straight, Roman road on a crisp, clear day.

And cafes and osterias, too.  We had passable lasagna in the late afternoon light.

This cafe's building walls were covered in a kind of masonry that could only happen in place like this - comprised of roughly hewn rocks and marble fragments from now-disappeared tombs. Seen through dappled light filtered through trees...

On the Appia Antica way, there is the tomb of Cecilia Metella. It is the third largest in Rome (after Hadrian's and Augustus' tombs). It is also circular in shape with a large oculus, allowing for light to grace the mortuary level far below.

OK. I have decided. 

This year is the year that I work on managing light: figuring out when to let it in, shining it in darkness when it's beneficial to do so (discerning the benefits are the tricky bits), seeking the kind of enlightenment that informs balance between learning and making and earning. 

I have never really done that very well, before. 

Perhaps this is my real chance, even it it isn't, I might as well act as if it is.