So please check out my new blog, Leaping Without a Net at:

http://leapwithoutanet.blogspot.com/

It's the damnedest thing.

The more clutter I clear out of my rambling old apartment before the movers come, the more things I seem to have!!!

At his rate, how am I going to keep my packing for Rome down to only two suitcases? And a carry-on? I may need to smuggle a pack animal onto Air Canada to help me with the luggage!

A few days ago, I booked my airline ticket to Rome for Nov. 30, with a vague return date that can be changed. What's more difficult to change is Air Canada's parsimonious packing policy. One suit case per traveller. Madness.

Of course, for $70 I could bring a second suitcase; but a third piece of luggage would be ruinously expensive. So, I am facing hard limits.

Fine. I can work with limits and deadlines. And with the movers coming in only a few weeks, I've been organizing my things into categories:

a. Items for storage with the moving company
b. Items to store with friends (personal papers, my handmade ceramics)
c. Items for charity
d. Items for the rubbish (I really don't need to save mismatched mittens)
e. Items to take to Italy

It's that last one that's proving a challenge.

I'm a writer, therefore I need electronics. Seriously; no one uses the fountain pen any longer. A laptop, net-book, various power cords and plug adaptors. Headset for Skype. Cellphone and charger; iPod and chargers. External keyboard, mouse and hard drive. Camera and its charger. All to go into the carry-on along with $1,000 worth of prescriptions (asthma and ulcers get expensive.)

Books. I need to bring a few favourite books, plus Italian study guides, dictionaries (English and Italian.) A few CDs and DVDs (at least they're flat.)
A file of favourite recipes, especially for lentil soup (cheap protein); tax receipts so I can claim all those damned prescriptions; notes for both novels, the one that's completed and the work in progress.

Jewelry and cosmetics -- what if I stay a year or more? I can't keep wearing the same earrings! Sox and Spanx tights. Underwear. Jammies.

At least Teddy won't mind being crushed.

And the clothing -- oy vey! Winter boots, summer sandals and everything in between. (And no, I can't buy shoes when I get there. I'm very tall with long long feet. Nothing in Italy fits me -- other than the lifestyle.)

Work clothes, gym clothes, sitting-at-home-studying-Italian/watching-those -engrossing-Italian-TV-game-shows clothes. A raincoat, a wool winter coat.

I have lists, and lists of lists that I should make.

I think I need a Sherpa. Then, a scotch.

Each week, my elderly mother double-checks: I'm not moving to Rome, right? I'm merely taking an extended visit, correct?

I reassure her with partial truths. I have rented a studio apartment in Rome for three months, beginning in December. True. I've also told her that I hope to find some work to pay the bills, but my focus will be studying Italian and working on my second novel. Also true. Sort of.

What I don't mention is that I'm preparing to stay in Italy many, many months. Say, 60 months. Or maybe 100 months if all goes well.

It's also true that I've gotten some leads on work in Rome that might allow me to stay much longer. But why trouble her with these details now, in case things don't go well and I come scurrying back to Canada next spring, broke and downcast.

Whatever. I'll jump off that bridge when I get to it.

Meanwhile, I'm practising using Skype so I can call Mom frequently from Rome (whether I can catch her in her room at the senior's home in rural Alberta is another question. She loves it there and is in a social whirl the likes of which I have never seen!)

Skyping to Mom's phone will, hopefully, be less expensive than calling from my Italian cellphone. Just one of the few ways I can find to save money in Rome.

For it’s becoming clear that My Life as an Italian is going to be rather expensive. So it has become all the more important that I find some decent work there. At least things are finally looking up on that front!
I've applied for some writers grants to help with my fiction writing.

It seems there will be some solid opportunities for me to work as a freelance reporter in Rome, which would be a great way to meet more Italians, oil up my rusty reporting skills, and practise my beginner Italian language abilities. God help us all.

Meanwhile, my speechwriting contacts are hinting that I should be able to continue to do “remote” work for them. Remote at this point means my apartment, instead of their offices; but thanks to the Internet, remote should also translate into me writing speeches from Rome. So that's helpful.

And there are a number of UN agencies in Rome that I'm hoping will need the communications skills of a reporter/speechwriter/comms strategist right there on the ground. My new business cards should read “Will write 4 food.”

But for now, the money is pouring out as I pay for business cards; hire movers; and arrange for my belongings to be put into storage next month. And buy a winter coat and new shoes (since I'm too tall to fit Italian sizes so can't buy them there.)

I've switched to a bank account that charges a higher monthly fee, but offers free ATM transactions, saving me the usual $5 charge every time I use a foreign bank machine. I crunched the numbers and the more expensive account actually does mean savings -- or, to be more precise, lower overall expenses.

Soon, I'll have to get a six month supply of prescriptions which is going to cost a small fortune.

And -- a top priority -- my hair stylist will give me the formula for my highlights, to take to Rome so my coiffure can be maintained (though I'm certain that the Aveda salon in Rome is going to be pricey.)

On that last point, PLEASE don't tell my Mom -- the money I spend on my hair, more than anything else, would scandalize her!

I'm a list maker, it helps me to feel in control. Also, I get into trouble when I don't make lists. I forget important items. On a visit to my family in Alberta once, I forgot to pack bras so I had to wear my mother's. I don't think forgetting bras has a deeper meaning, such as hatred of underwear. I have seen that: my friend's dog Charlie once ate an entire bra from my laundry when I was dog-sitting. All we ever found was a single under-wire....

So, I've already begun my packing list for my move to Rome. That'll be a challenge and a whole separate blog topic.

My pre-Rome to-do list is a variation on the moving lists we've all had to draw up when changing houses or cities. With an extra twist twist, of course: I'm leaving the country and the continent, not just the province.

I've borrowed this list from my blogging friend Jane, who moved her family to Italy for a year. Here, in no particular order, are things I must take care of before November:

1. Ensure I can pay all of my bills online. Especially the credit card bills. I expect I'll be using Visa a fair amount. Also, remind Visa not to cut off my credit when they begin seeing charges from Italy.

2. Ensure my homeowners insurance covers my belongs in storage. And keep paying them.

3. Remember to cancel all of my services: phone, electricity, mail, newspapers, cable TV, Internet. The last thing I need are bills for services I don't require.

4. Give Canada Post my friend Dale's mailing address as my new forwarding address.

5. Pack receipts and so on so I can pay my income taxes (and hopefully, get a refund!) next February from Rome.

6. Try to find a bank that will give me a break on transaction and conversion fees when I withdraw cash from European ATMs. Right now, my ING account is the cheapest -- the rest hit me for about $5 Cdn per transaction. Outrageous!

7. Practise using Skype so I can call my mother very inexpensively for my weekly grilling.

8. Double-check on health coverage in Italy. As a European citizen (I love saying that!) I believe I have basic coverage. But I'd like to be certain.

9. Spend a small fortune now on refills for all of my prescriptions so I don't have to worry about getting my asthma meds for a few months.

10. Make many copies of so many documents -- both my passports, birth certificate, credit cards, etc.

11. Organize my electronics and their many chargers and various wires: for both my computers, the cellphone, the iPod., camera...

12. Collect some reporting equipment -- my old mini-disc recorder with a bud microphone plus extra discs -- in case I find work as a freelance reporter. Canadian Press Style book as well. Useful for any kind of writing, really.

13. Pack Italian dictionary and grammar books for classes. Enrol in classes in Rome now, so I won't be tempted to drift when I get to Rome.

14. Buy giant bottles of Tylenol and Vitamin C since they're harder to find and ruinously expensive in Europe.

15. Try to remember what else I’m forgetting.

When I paid a hefty deposit in early July to secure my apartment in Rome for the coming winter, I was nervous but very excited. I had just returned from three wonderful weeks in Italy and my mind was filled with all of the sights and scents and tastes that I could not wait to return to!

Now, it's September, my move to Rome is about 12 weeks away, and logistical worries are pushing out feelings of excitement, replacing them with anxiety. Will I find work? How quickly can I learn enough Italian to hold a conversation? Can I really restrain my packing to just two suitcases, yet still bring enough clothes to last thru spring and enough favourite books for when I feel down?

The practical matters around packing up my apartment here in Canada and putting everything into storage, then couch-surfing for a month, are also less than fun.

I take a lot of comfort from the fact that everyone around me seems to be thrilled with my plan, and their encouragement and enthusiasm reminds me of why I am doing this. And that it really will be great!

It also prods me to be much more selective in my thoughts. This is an essential lesson that I need to practice and now is certainly the perfect opportunity to remind myself: Select your thoughts.

Rather than obsessing about logistics to the exclusion of every happy thought, I must find a balance and make room for excitement.The details of wrapping up this old life and organizing my new life in Rome are important-- but it's crucial to remember why I want to live in Italy, what I want to see, and accomplish.

Left unchecked, my mind would rather return to its comfortable old groove: anxiety, fear, worrying details while missing the larger picture.

So, here goes: I'm disciplining my thoughts. Concentrate: what wonderful things will I be doing in Rome?

Priority number one: Starting language classes. I have chosen my school and very soon, I'll enrol for six weeks of classes, five days a week from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. at the Leonardo da Vinci school. It seems I can begin class on December 5th and get in three weeks before Christmas break.

I decided to take morning classes only because I also want time to work on my novel, and hopefully, find some paid employment. I've studied French full-time and it really is exhausting to learn a new language. I don't want language classes to feel like a sweatshop.

Priority number two: Find some employment. I'm trying hard to find writing contracts here in Canada that I can continue remotely; that is, from Rome. But I'll also check with the Canadian Embassy and the UN agencies in Rome (of which there are many) for casual or contract work, as a hired pen.

Priority number three: See as much art as I want, whenever I want! The prospect is dizzying. In Rome, so much great art is free but for those places that charge, I'll keep a close eye out for free admission days to control costs (the Capitoline and Vatican museums are free the fourth Sunday of every month.)

Priority number four: Continue to work on my second novel, and continue the desperate and frustrating search for an agent for my first novel. But who knows? Perhaps my pitch letter to potential agents will sound more impressive from a resident of Rome!

Priority number five: Blog!

In 12 weeks' time, I am moving to Rome. The die is cast, as Julius Caesar would have said.

Although I talk a lot about my plans with friends, I haven't yet written much about this. Perhaps that's because I'm very, very nervous, and putting my plans into writing makes it all very, very real!

In my more lucid moments, I'm thrilled to take this chance to fulfil a cherished dream of living in Italy. But those moments are rare just now; much of the time, I'm feeling a lot of nervousness and uncertainty. Can I really live on dreams?

However, today, I am crossing the Rubicon. I'm giving notice to my landlord that I'm vacating my beloved apartment at the end of October. And once that is done, there really is no retreat.

This may be why I've decided to begin writing now about my relocation plans. I'm at the point of no return. I'm following the advice of all those who tell me to leap, and the net will appear. So, I'm leaping!

Incidentally, for anyone who isn't immersed in Roman history, “crossing the Rubicon” or, taking measures from which there is no backing down, refers to Julius Caesar's notorious actions that led to him become Rome's dictator for life in about 49 BC. I should add here that I have no similar plans.

Anyway, the Rubicon river in north-central Italy marked a political and military boundary and crossing it with an army was considered an act of insurrection. So, when Julius Caesar turned against Rome's leadership and did just that, crossing the Rubicon was a very clear signal he intended to take over. Which he did, stating “the die is cast.”

And the rest is history.

Returning to my own history, I have rented a tiny but lovely studio apartment in the Monti area of Rome for three months, beginning in December. I'll study Italian (at the Leonardo da Vinci language school) look for work, spend my 51st birthday and Christmas 2011 in Rome; and try not to over-eat.

Also, very important, I'll avoid another Canadian winter!!

This should give me renewed inspiration as I continue working on my second novel while trying to find a literary agent for my first novel of historical fiction, which is set in Italy. Perhaps I'll seem more impressive to potential agents as a resident of Rome.

I'm very fortunate in that I'll be spared a lot of paperwork in Italy because, in addition my Canadian passport, I also hold an EU passport. (Thanks, Dad, for being born in Ireland!)

That means I can also live and work legally in Italy, which is part of my master plan. I'll burn through my savings pretty quickly, so I had better find some work and eventually, a new apartment.

I'm having a lot of anxiety nightmares, but I'll save those for another blog post, where I'll also discuss what to pack! Should I buy an e-reader so I won't have the burden of a lot of books? Or, would it be cheaper to pack books than buy an e-reader? And so on.

With my blog, I can keep a journal of this experience and memories that someday, I'm sure I'll look back over and enjoy. In this, I'm copying my blogging buddy Jane, who moved her family to Italy for a year about five years ago. It's fascinating to read over her entries from that time, and all that they went through to live their dream.

Leap and the net will appear....or I'll weave one of my own.

My blogging friend Annie was recently discussing collections, including her interest in acquiring photos of lively dragon reliefs, cats, and street shrines in Venice. In fact, I think she has a lot of us on the lookout now for interesting street shrines.

I have a few collections -- particularly, these days, rejection notes from literary agents. This is not my favourite thing to collect, but I suppose it falls under the heading "paying one's dues." I've recently reached the landmark of 50 rejections for my first novel. These no longer sting nearly as much as they once did. Times are tough in publishing. And I know that I'm in good company: Ernest Hemingway, Jack London, Dr. Seuss, that woman who wrote the The Help....all were rejected by literary agents and publishers many times.

Undaunted, I'm now hard at work on my second novel which just might sell sooner than the first. Or, they'll sell together. Who knows, I might end up with a 10-volume set before this is finished!

But onto a happier collection: I also watch for images of The Annunciation. You know, where the Angel Gabriel appears before the Virgin Mary and announces that she is blessed among women and destined to become the mother of Jesus.

This image was extraordinarily popular during the Renaissance, and I can understand why: it has drama, beauty, an angel's wings, costumes and sets. Like a brilliant play or opera, in a single, perfect scene.

Is this why The Annunciation charms me so? I can't say. I mean, it isn't as obvious as, say, the Nativity where an artist could cram in some fantastic beasts and starry nights and the magic of the First Christmas. The Annunciation is usually produced on a smaller scale and maybe it's that simplicity that appeals.

Once in a while, Others do make an appearance. This one just below, which Piero della Francesca apparently shoe-horned into his Legend of the True Cross frescoes in Arezzo, includes a rare guest spot by God. That's not often seen.

Mind you, Fra Angelico, who painted many wonderful versions of The Annunciation, also wanted to tart this one up by including the Holy Spirit, and off to the left, Adam and Eve before the Expulsion. There is a logic here, of course; if not for their mis-steps, Christianity might not have been required.

And this one, by Ventura Salimbeni, is just odd. Mary appears to be already pregnant, sitting on an orange crate. And why is she staring out at us?

Speaking of odd, here's a 20th century version, by John William Waterhouse, showing Mary fussing with her halo and knitting, apparently. Those Pre-Raphaelites!

As you may have guessed, I really do prefer the classical take on the story.

This fresco scene, from Florence's Baptistery, is remarkable.

An interesting version from Norcia, with a Madonna Enthroned in the middle.

Have I mentioned that I have a new, favourite neighbourhood in Rome? Yes, I have become a Monti convert. (Above, the twins Castor and Pollux from the Quirinale Hill in Monti.)

Monti is a very old part of Rome (which is saying something in a city so old) and a bit off the tourist path. To my surprise, I found that extremely appealing when I rented an apartment in Monti in June.

A bit of background: I always stay in the Campo de' Fiori area, which is adjacent to the Piazza Navona neighbourhood and therefore, Tourist Central in Rome. Usually, I like this. I think of myself as a traveller, not a tourist (an important distinction) but I admit that popular tourist areas are popular for a reason -- that's often where many of most interesting, appealing sights are.

But I found this year that I really enjoyed being just a bit off the tourist grid. Monti (which was a slum in Ancient Rome) was close enough that I could walk (or take a quick bus ride) to the Pantheon, Piazza Navona and other popular spots. But the June crowds quickly drove me back to the relative quiet of Monti.

Don't get me wrong: Monti is a scene, but a more Roman scene. The shops are mostly local (though there was an American Apparel outlet just around the corner from me. And a faux Irish pub drawing North American students. Sigh.) And there were lots of very small coffee bars, a bustling piazza and not a Blue Ice gelato chain store in sight.

BTW, to help you get your bearings: Monti is very roughly bordered on the east by the Colosseum, with Santa Maria Maggiore on its northern border and the Quirinale on the western side.

A feature published in the New York Times recently about Monti described it as “a working-class neighbourhood in the heart of the historic centre, gentrifying around the edges. It is a place where a knife sharpener still makes monthly rounds even as young entrepreneurs are opening artsy bookstore-cafes, vintage clothing shops, organic markets and galleries.”

Alas, I did not see the knife sharpener! But I did find several good restaurants, amazing (and inexpensive) gelato, and great metro access. However, I could not find a forno (next time, I'll look harder) and there weren't enough churches close by the apartment I rented from Dolce Roma to allow me to hear as many church bells as I'd like.

Being in a new (to me) neighbourhood meant interesting sights to discover. I spent more time around the church San Pietro in Vincoli, which was right outside my door; and was surprised to find the Quirinale so close. And so interesting, particularly the Scuderie del Quirinale, which hosts major art exhibitions. Another spot I had visited once before but never got around to revisiting.

I discovered that the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore was only a five-minute walk away. (All uphill, of course. Both ways.) I also discovered my new favourite church, Santa Prassade. A true gem chock-a-block with beautiful mosaics.

Much to my surprise, the UPIM department store across from SM Maggiore was really interesting (and even stocked Hello Kitty pantyliners. I have now seen everything.)

Rome has such a wealth of beautiful and important sites that no matter how often I've visited, there are always rich discoveries to be made.

Sometimes these are places that I have heard about but never really investigated properly. Maybe they were a bit too far out of my way, or kept odd opening hours and I didn't make enough effort to gain entrance.

Santa Prassede is one such church. It is an absolute gem, dating from the 9th century, and almost completely overshadowed by the mighty Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore that is only steps away.

Santa Prassede has a very dull and unassuming exterior but this hides a magnificent interior, with fantastic Byzantine mosaics and lovely frescoed angels scattered about high on the walls. (There is also a wonderful Annunciation at the back; another for my collection! There are poor photos below.)

All in all, it offers a beautiful but not overpowering environment.

The basilica was built over a fifth century church also dedicated to Santa Prassede, who was sister of Santa Pudenziana and daughter of St. Pudens. (According to legend, Pudens gave shelter to St. Peter in around 50 AD.)

There are splendid mosaics in the apse but my favourites are the wonderful 9th century mosaics in the side Chapel of St. Zeno (shown in the top photos.)

This chapel was built as a mausoleum for Theodora, mother of Pope Paschal I (817-824) who erected this basilica. It is the only chapel in Rome entirely lined with mosaics.

Mosaics fill the triumphal arch and the entire interior of the Chapel of St. Zeno and were made from fine glass tesserae, which may have been taken from earlier mosaics.

The outer face of the arch features mosaics of the New Jerusalem, with doors guarded by angels. The inner face of the arch has Christ flanked by a row of saints.

A long airport layover following an overnight flight from North America to Europe can be very uncomfortable. I don't sleep on planes, so when I land in Europe I'm usually tired, cranky, in desperate need of coffee and the means to kill time until the next flight. Sometimes, it's quite a long time until the next flight and the hours can drag.

But in June, enroute to Rome, I managed to reduce the pain of a 6-hour layover considerably with a stay in the Yotel mini-hotel at Amsterdam's Schiphol airport. The Yotel is a great find for a weary traveler who wants a private space for a few hours to rest, regroup, and maybe rearrange the carry-on luggage.

My single standard Yotel room was tiny but very clean and well organized, with a fantastic shower, soap and shower gel, good towels, good room temperature control, a flat screen TV, free wireless Internet, and a small desk and folding chair.

The only negative for me was that the room had very soft lighting which made it difficult to reapply make-up and re-style my hair after the shower. But that was a fairly small inconvenience.

The bed resembled the lower bunk in bunkbeds and was very low, set at only about 6 inches off the floor. It was comfortable to stretch out on, although I didn't sleep. I think it's a luck of the draw whether you get a room where the bed is a lower bunk or a room with an upper bunk. I peeked into the room across the hall which had an upper bunk, and the bed appeared to be a bit higher than knee level; presumably there's some sort of footstool to help guests hop up!

Small lights at the head of the bed made it easy to read the computer while stretched out in comfort (the TV is flat against the wall at the foot of the bed.) A phone at the head of the bed let me call the front desk after I forgot to get the wireless code; and room service can also be ordered. My room was extremely quiet, although that might also be because it was at the furthest reaches of the mini-hotel. Still, the entire Yotel seemed reasonably soundproofed and would be quiet for a nap between flights.

This is definitely an in-transit hotel -- there was a luggage rack above the desk with enough room for a large carry-on, but I think the space would be very tight for larger luggage. Still, at 10-euro per hour, I think it was worth the price for a four-hour break from my fellow travellers!

The Yotel was easy to find at Schiphol airport, just outside a large food court (so I could take some breakfast back to my room) and directly above my departure gates.

Sometimes Rome can feel poor, nasty, and brutish (apologies to Thomas Hobbes.) Today, with temperatures in the high 30 degrees C, it certainly felt that way. Not the memory I want to take back to Canada from Italy!

But happily, I found refuge in a cloister, frescos, Raphael and fresh-squeezed orange juice on ice. I really am quite easy to please!

I had read about Baroque architect Donato Bramante’s cloister attached to the Church of Santa Maria della Pace on Slow Travel several years ago, but had never found my way inside. Today, though, I was desperate to escape Rome’s heat and when I saw the doors of the cloister open, I ventured inside.

It really is a haven, just a short distance from the madness that is Piazza Navona on a hot June day with tonnes of tour groups, student groups, fake artists, buskers playing The Beatles. Horrible.

The cloister, in contrast, was very serene. High walls that once enclosed monks now shut out the city noise and shelter artists’ exhibitions. Deteriorating frescos on the inner walls add a spiritual touch.

Up one flight of stairs is a chic bar/cafeteria with that makes sophisticated drinks pleasantly served at tables on all four sides of the cloister, looking down into the courtyard below. You can sit for hours in calm and peace.

There’s also a lovely bookshop but perhaps best of all, a small lounge area with a window that looks into the Church of Santa Maria della Pace and directly onto Raphael’s 1514 frescos in the Chigi Chapel of the Four Sibyls Receiving Angelic Instruction and commissioned by Agostino Chigi, who was the papal banker. Being able to see these is a real treat because it is extremely difficult to get into the SM Della Pace; the church keeps very infrequent hours.

Alas, no photos are allowed of the Raphael frescos.

This is a pedestrian tunnel near my apartment in Rome, linking my street to the ancient church of St. Peter in Chains:

I stayed a few days with my friend Marica at her villa in the hills above Florence. Spectacular scenery and the views from my room were fantastic!

And in Umbria, at Letizia's gorgeous agriturismo Alla Madonna del Piatto in the mountains above Assisi:

And although this angel wasn't quite within view of Letizia's agriturismo, it's still a lovely fresco at the nearby retreat of St. Francis of Assisi, San Damiano.

I had heard that the world has gone crazy for Caravaggio, but I didn't quite realize how true this was until I watched a steady stream of visitors jostling for position in front of the three fantastic paintings by the 17th century Italian master on Saturday.

I mean, it really got a bit nutty -- literally hundreds of tourists crowding into the French national church in Rome, San Luigi dei Francesi, feeding coins into the light box to admire the St. Matthew cycle. Who knew Caravaggio was this popular? In contrast, the nearby and exquisite Santa Maria Sopra Minerva, with its lovely little Michelangelo, was very quiet.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Last year, a University of Toronto art historian, Philip Sohm, was quoted in the New York Times as suggesting that Caravaggio had become a more popular research topic than even Michelangelo.

I’m not entirely convinced. On Sunday, I continued a bit of a Caravaggio quest, viewing his paintings in both the Galleria Borghese and in the recently remodelled Palazzo Barberini. Other visitors seemed to take extra interest in the Caravaggios, but they certainly didn’t jostle and fight for position. In fact, almost no one was around to interfere with my enjoyment of his take on Judith beheading Holofernes -- a classic story of an ordinary person triumphing over evil. (I still prefer Artemisia Gentileschi’s version, possibly for feminist reasons!)

BTW, and not totally off topic, the photo above is of the steps to the back garden near the Borromini staircase, both of which are now open. Really, they did a great job with the restoration.

Back to Caravaggio versus Michelangelo. The art historian Sohm based his claims on studies of the number of writings (including books, catalogues and scholarly papers) produced on both great artists over the last 50 years, according to the New York Times. Sohm concluded that during that period, Caravaggio has gradually, if unevenly, overtaken Michelangelo.

The change as been attributed to modern tastes -- we really like the dark bad-boy artist Caravaggio, much more than Michelangelo and his interest in the classical forms and traditions.

“His otherworldly muscle men, casting the damned into hell or straining to emerge from thick blocks of veined marble, aspired to an abstract and bygone ideal of the sublime, grounded in Renaissance rhetoric, which, for postwar generations, now belongs with the poetry of Alexander Pope or plays by Corneille as admirable but culturally remote splendours.

“Caravaggio, on the other hand, exemplifies the modern antihero, a hyperrealist whose art is instantly accessible. His doe-eyed, tousle-haired boys with puffy lips and bubble buttocks look as if they’ve just tumbled out of bed, not descended from heaven.

“Coarse not godly, locked into dark, ambiguous spaces by a strict geometry then picked out of deep shadow by an oracular light, his models come straight off the street. Cupid is clearly a hired urchin on whom Caravaggio strapped a pair of fake wings.”

I think you could also argue that Michelangelo has probably been over studied and scrutinized by art students, but Caravaggio represents relatively fresh fodder.

The Pope's office of Safe but Clichéd Titles is calling it "Vatican Museums under the Stars." But I think a far more fun title would be something like 'Howl at the Moon over the Vatican." And they could feature these scary canines from the Pio-Clementino wing of the museum as their poster pooches.

It was fun visiting the Vatican museums at night -- the lighting is, of course, very different and so the effect on the art was very different. The mood was a bit more relaxed, like kids on a field trip.

Still, I don't think anything was broken or stolen (at least, not by me) so perhaps the Vatican will make this a permanent feature. Particularly in summer, when the lines of visitors to get into this famous museum (actually, a series of museums) can stretch into many hours' wait for some. Many, I imagine, only want to see the Sistine Chapel. But still, why make their lives worse with enormous lineups?

Several sections of the museums were not open when I visited Friday night. But I was still able see other favourites, including poor old Laocoon, who is shown with his sons howling against killer serpeants.

The statue of Laocoon and his sons is a monumental marble sculpture that was attributed by the Roman author Pliny the Elder to three sculptors from the island of Rhodes. It shows the Trojan priest Laocoon and his sons Antiphantes and Thymbraeus being strangled by sea serpents.

Laocoon was killed after he attempted to expose the Greek's ruse of the Trojan Horse, by striking it with a spear. The snakes were apparently sent either by Apollo or Poseidon as punishment, and were interpreted by the Trojans as proof that the horse was a sacred object. They were clearly very wrong, and we know the rest of the story from Odysseus who sacked Troy, driving out Aeneas who went on to found the city of Rome.

So it seems that all is well that ends well!

Various dates have been suggested for the statue, ranging from about 160 BC to about 20 BC. It's believed that the statue was probably commissioned for the home of a wealthy Roman, and it was unearthed in 1506 near the site of the Golden House of the Emperor Nero (who reigned from 54 to 68 AD), and it is possible that the statue belonged to Nero himself.

It was acquired by Pope Julius II soon after its discovery and was placed in the Belvedere Garden at the Vatican.

I've arrived in Rome! I have been here 24 hours and still haven't had a gelato. Perhaps this evening, there is a reportedly a great place not far from my apartment in the Monti neighbourhood.

Today I revisited nearby churches I haven't gotten to spend much time in before, especially the magnificent Santa Maria Maggiore and St. Peter in Chains where crowds gather to see Michelangelo's sculpture of Moses.

On this stay, in my new neighbourhood, I'll be trying out new restaurants, shops, and this new gelateria Ciuri Cirui, which is also a pasticceria siciliana and comes highly recommended by Katie Parla .

Yum!