At Last

I'm sitting in my room, in a little white-covered chair, with my feet up on the red damask coverlet on the bed.  Through the open window you can hear the sound of the courtyard fountain.  It's surprisingly loud, since the courtyard amplifies noise; even a couple of people chatting sounds like a small group.  Two massive pine trees dominate the courtyard space, and block my view of my office window, directly on the other side.  It's beautiful, peaceful, and like everyone else here have already asked myself a dozen times, "is this my real life now?"

I wouldn't say that my jaw actually dropped when the van from the airport pulled up in front of the main Academy building, but there was distinct awe.  It was so much bigger, so much more imposing and elegant than the photos were able to communicate, and that sense of wonder hasn't diminished from getting to know the layout more thoroughly.  More than ever I recognize why Jasmine say Academy fellows were thought to be "insular and pretentious": they treat us like rock stars, we eat like kings, and everyone is so different, in their work, their background, that I can't imagine ever running out of things to discuss at the dinner table.  For example: Paula is an experimental composer who will be doing field recordings of ambient sound in Rome's aqueducts; Liz and Khrys are novelists; Anna works as a restorer for the Met with Egyptian artifacts; Sarah is a historian working on the brothels of Pompeii--and we're all eating dinner together.  It's really awesome.

In the vestibule to the McKim building, there are two ancient Roman fountains affixed to either wall, pouring water constantly.  Above one, a plaque records the names of the original donors to the Academy, which include JP Morgan, Vanderbilt, Carnegie, and Henry Clay Frick of the wonderful NYC museum.  Robber barons, in other words, and this stately pile is well worthy of their money. The site is the highest one inside the ancient walls of Rome (Morgan, who bought the land, supposedly wanted to be higher than the French academy across the city in the Villa Medici).  The view from the roof is incomparable--all of Rome is spread out beneath you.

I feel like I could write so much about everything I've experienced here...and it's only been three days!  The first night, I got up from the dinner table to use the restroom, and walking back toward the table, looking down that long, candle-covered table and everyone clustered around it talking so animatedly I thought "Two years of nights like this?" in this sort of awe-filled but also uncomprehending way.  It just doesn't seem possible, that this is a thing I am now doing, and will do for a considerable period of time.  But it is--and the only thing that's going to make it even better is when I get to share it with Sean!