1. Trusty Hydrant

2. Electricity Bunker

3. Remnant Fall Colors

4. The Black Dog from the back of my car. And now I want breakfast: eggs over easy, fish cakes, hash browns, coffee.

5. These boots say “Ready!” to me.

And there it is: the famed church dome of Filippo Brunelleschi.

A year-ish or so ago I took a Renaissance history class. I wrote a paper about the contributions of Brunelleschi—a simple outline and basic subsequent explanations about his various inventions and artistic accomplishments. I then took the paper a step further by proposing the idea that the Renaissance in turn contributed to the life of Brunelleschi—that without living in that time he may not have risen to his fullest potential because he didn’t have to. The paper is titled “On Filippo Brunelleschi: A Convergence of Mind and Era.”

<<The skyline of Florence, Italy, is graced with the dome of the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore. A simple four-letter word, dome, is almost an injustice to the grandeur and genius exhibited in the architectural masterpiece created by Filippo Brunelleschi. A renowned Florentine in the rich period of the Renaissance, Brunelleschi is remembered today mainly for the dome. However, his contributions to the Renaissance are extensive, and the time period of the Renaissance in turn complemented his career.

Brunelleschi was born in Florence in 1377 to Ser Brunellesco di Lippo Lapo and Giulani Spini. His father Ser Brunellesco was a well-respected notary in Florence and originally planned on his son to follow in his footsteps. Brunelleschi exhibited artistic talent through painting and drawing as a child; his father recognized his abilities and allowed him to learn to become a goldsmith. He became proficient at this trade among other trades and skills including sculpture, architectural reliefs and the handling and usage of precious stones. He registered with a Florentine guild, the Arte della Seta, and competed against Lorenzo Ghiberti and other artists to design and produce the bronze panels in the Florence Baptistery doors. His submission to the contest, “The Sacrifice of Isaac,” demonstrated his understanding and skill of material and form in the realm of sculpture despite his not being chosen for the Baptistery commission. Having lost the competition to Ghiberti, Brunelleschi turned his attention to architecture.

Should architects of today say a silent prayer of thanks that Brunelleschi lost the sculpture contest? Perhaps they should, considering the genius calculations, inventions and theories created by Brunelleschi that exist even today. Early in his career, Brunelleschi developed paintings on small panels to create a work true to the reality of the human eye, angle and vantage point. He used mirrors and silver paint to create reflection. These panels demonstrated perspective and the use of a vanishing point in a two-dimensional piece to provide depth. Painters and architects alike implemented and continue to implement perspective in their works using the principles demonstrated in his panels. Brunelleschi’s design and construction of a piece to demonstrate perspective exhibit not only his artistic talent but his scientific and engineering awareness, appreciation and actualization in the realm of Renaissance art.

The cathedral where his dome sits in splendor was actually already under construction before Brunelleschi was even born. However, by the 1400s, the construction had begun to slow down due to complications surrounding the design and installation of a dome that could match the Gothic architecture. The machinery used to install the dome was invented by none other than Brunelleschi, who also designed the lantern that still sits atop the dome. The dome itself is a legacy of Brunelleschi, but beyond the actual dome one should consider the engineering science and mathematical ingenuity that made its construction and transcendence of time a possibility.

The completion of the dome project helped Brunelleschi rise to Florentine fame as an architect. Another notable project was the design of the Ospedale degli Innocenti, where he resurrected classical Greek architecture through the use of Corinthian columns. His symmetrical layouts reflect his perspective design from earlier in his career that came as a result of studying Greek and Roman architecture. Brunelleschi designed the Old Sacristy, Pazzi Chapel, Santa Maria degli Angeli and Church of Santo Spirito with specific geometric dimensions and shapes, both internally and externally. His design was revolutionary at the time as it sought to bridge the Gothic architecture to structures that were more suitable for the Renaissance period. Considering Brunelleschi’s beginning as a painter and sculptor, his works were not only brilliantly engineered but beautifully imagined and brought to fruition, proving his mastermind and true representation of a Renaissance man.

Brunelleschi and the Renaissance are complementary; they allowed each other to mutually contribute. Brunelleschi’s living during the 1400s in Florence allowed him the foundational experience as a master in a guild. The presence of wealthy families and patrons created opportunities for commissions and projects that Brunelleschi might not have been able to acquire otherwise, thus allowing him to demonstrate an arsenal of advanced artistic and scientific abilities. Florence, home to many great Renaissance artists and works, provided a playing field for someone like Brunelleschi who simply, but so profoundly, created. Had Brunelleschi been alive during another time, a time less vibrant and rich in artistic development and less needful of engineering, mathmatic and geometric ingenuity, perhaps his mind could not have flourished to the extent it did, and his hand and imagination could not have bloomed thoroughly. The Renaissance was the only season in which the fruit of Brunelleschi could fully ripen.

The sun rises and sets on Florence every day, and the marks of Brunelleschi bask in this sunlight of modern times. Architects continually drink in the knowledge and ingenuity of Brunelleschi’s mind, and even the average consumer can be profoundly impacted by the works of this Renaissance man. The dome, through its very existence, acknowledges Brunelleschi as it soars above the Florentine rooftops.>>

I’m glad that the dome still exists today, but more importantly I’m thankful for Brunelleshi himself for two reasons: he did not give up when losing the baptistery commission but instead turned his devotion to another art form. Second, when faced with obstacles, he didn’t simply sidestep them but forged ahead by figuring out how to solve the problems. Funny, because just as the dome still stands and speaks of Brunelleschi’s genius, his tenacity is an example to us all, despite our living hundreds of years later.

Next, we stumbled upon this. Literally. It’s kind of nestled away in no significant part of the city (Sorry for the poor lighting in the first picture).

Ironically, I just posted about some book love the other day, complete with pictures of book stacks. Stacks and stacks. And here–one of the most beautiful sites I’ve seen (and smelled–you know that smell of the pages and papers and inks? Mmm):

Books in a gondola? Fitting, I’d say! (Oh, and say hello to the head of Marilyn there in the right of that last picture.)

Posters, maps. Bookmarks. There was a chaotic organization to it. It looks crazy, but I didn’t have any trouble finding books about Titian and the Frari Church.

This place was a browser’s heaven. And here is a canal–the view out the back of the bookstore. I mean, it was almost too much to handle. So we went to find lunch to calm ourselves down.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7.0 and Part 7.1.

But.

I can’t get rid of books. And papers. It’s not in my nature. My office mate at work hates my desk touting stacks of papers and reference guides. He thinks it’s messy. I think it’s a beautiful collection of information and tokens of stories. Anecdotes of people and knowledge invested and stowed away collecting interest. I’m proud of it, and sometimes when I need a breath of air from the sea of work and words, I sit and look at the piles of particulars and volumes of grammar rules (hopefully my coworkers don’t notice—although they’d probably just assume I’m staring off into oblivion).

I have a bookshelf at home (in fact, it’s neatly organized into a Read section and Not-read-yet section), but the books I’ve accumulated have sort of spilled over into the next room and off the shelf. I can’t help it though. You just never know when you’re going to need to know something housed in a book you decided not to throw away.

This is reminiscent to me of that scene in The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring where Gandalf sneaks away to Minas Tirith to camp out in the deep dark libraries to research the One Ring. Now, imagine if the inhabitants of Minas Tirith decided those records weren’t important? The Nazgul would’ve made it to Bag End, and that would’ve been the end of things (and my dad would be thrilled a second and third movie didn’t have to be made—he’s not a big fan). I love that scene though; it expands my world, makes me think of all the information, stories, histories and tales in deep dark places in our own world; makes me feel and know that there’s a lot to learn. A lot a lot a lot.

So with what do you find it hard to part?

Purpose:

I find myself in a drive-through when I need a pick-me-up, usually of a caffeinated nature. I’d like this blog to be the same. A pick-me-up. A quick respite during the morning regimen or the afternoon slump. Or any time of day.

(Sidenote: I will NEVER intentionally post anything political.)

Truthfully, keeping up with this blog is my own pick-me-up, and I hope that my posts will be the same for you: Certainly nothing you couldn’t live without knowing, but just a bit of brightness or buoyancy from me to you.

And most importantly, thank you. Thank you! For reading. For choosing Drive-Thru Monologue. (Funny, because I really did have to say “Thank you for choosing Such-and-Such Coffee Shop” when I worked the drive-through window.)

And now the Plan:

Nothing crazy. For now, a post a week. If it ends up being more, great! But I certainly don’t plan on it ever being less. And if it is, I hope the reason is because I’m gone somewhere amazing for a long time (I know, I know. There are those automatic post options, so I should work on planning ahead…).

- Peter Hitchens on the death of his brother Christopher

Read the whole tribute here.

1. Visit three more countries. I’d go anywhere, but if you wanted me to be specific I’d say Scotland, Ireland and Switzerland.

2. See the Liberty Bell.

3. Try a few flavors of Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams.

4. Run a 5K. Yes. I said “Run a 5K.”

5. Have Movie Marathons of: Harry Potter, Star Wars and The Lord of the Rings. Does this count as three separate things?

6. See Coldplay live. Hear Fix You in person. Pass out.

7. Bake an apple pie completely from scratch.

8  Successfully accomplish a Martha Stewart craft. Maybe this one.

9. Own a pet lamb.

10. Eat a Ruth’s Chris steak.

11. Try my hand at roasting my own coffee beans.

12. Get published in The New Yorker. Or maybe just get published.

13. Eat real French Boeuf Bourguignon.

14. Walk into J.Crew, plunk down a credit card, point to an outfit and say, “That one, please.” Funny, because my sister Natalie said she wants to do this exact same thing-only at Prada in NYC.

15. Own a set of copper cookware. But not to cook with. Just to look at and admire.

16. Finish reading all the books on the “Haven’t Read” section of my bookshelf.

17. Visit Nantucket.

18. Own a city corner coffee shop where friends like to congregate. Will also feature a little stage for live music (This is for my friend, Ashley.)

19. Make my own pasta.

20. If I have kids, I’d like to leave notes in their lunches on a semi-regular basis. My mom used to do that for us, especially on the days we had big projects due. What I wouldn’t give these days to open my lunch here at work and find a little note from my mom. “Love, Mom. XOXO.”

21. At least try on Christian Louboutins. I don’t even have to own a pair.

22. COMPLETELY organize my iTunes. Also, all the random files on my computer. Also, my external harddrive.

23. Still own my Element.

24. Get upgraded to first class once. Or twice. I mean I wouldn’t complain if it happened more than once.

25. Still keep learning.

BUT Christmas is on the brain, and how could it not be? I can’t help but recall some fond memories of Christmases-gone-by (Cue Bing Crosby’s desperately beautiful “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.”)

1. Once upon a Christmas, I really wanted Puppy Surprise. Anyone remember this toy? I can’t believe I can recall this, but the commercial jingle went something like “How many puppies are there inside? There can be 3, or 4, or 5!” So come Christmas morning, I leaped out of bed like the house was on fire, raced downstairs and did a knee slide on the carpet to the bottom of the Christmas tree. And former kids, you remember! When you wanted a particular toy you KNEW the ins and outs-the manufacturer, the TV commercial, what stores it was available at, the shape of the box, the bar code…And there it was-that slanted rectangular box. Inside the box was a cotton-candy-pink, quasi-cocker-spaniel-looking creature with a Velcro stomach…and you know where this is going. “How many are there inside?” Well, mine had three little puppies. Two girls and a boy whom I fondly named Pancake, Maple and Syrup.

2. Who owned/owns an American Girl doll? I had/have Felicity Merriman, your one-and-only Colonial Redcoat-fighting, horse-loving ginger. Great girl. Great stories. The thing about American Girls is that they make it really easy for parents and grandparents to pick out Christmas presents. You know, there’s the birthday collection, the school collection, the Christmas collection, the summer collection, the spring collection, the winter collection, the sick collection, the healthy collection, the miniature collection, the life-sized collection, the best-friend-of-the-main-character collection, the servant collection, the horse collection, etc. And you collect and you add on and you change the outfits by season and you set up the table with the tea set and the scones and the fruit tarts and the inkwell. And every Christmas morning until last year (JUST KIDDING) there’d be stacks of white boxes with those tell-tale maroon Pleasant Company box wrappers, and we’d open them and scream our heads off and show our mother and then scream her name even though she picked out the presents. And my dad was watching all of this and he’d say, “Why do they yell Mom’s name? I paid for all this crap.” (He didn’t say crap, but imagining that he did makes it funnier to me.)

3. One year my brother, who LOVES school and learning and knowledge with ALL OF HIS HEART, really wanted a Sony PSP for Christmas. (The particular one he wanted was Star Wars-themed, so I’ll give him that.) So, my dad, being the great guy that he is, fought for his life at Best Buy and bought the present. He showed me the box, and I smiled a little like the Grinch does in the cartoon version when he conjures up his evil plan, for I myself was in the midst of devising an evil plan. I kind of thought that the PSP box could pass for a book if covered in wrapping paper, so I found myself a large box and a variety of heavy reading materials including Plato, Little Women, some encyclopedias and a dictionary or two. I wrapped the PSP and placed it in the bottom of the large box and then wrapped each of the books and placed them on top of the PSP. I wrapped the large box and tagged it “To: James.” Well, come Christmas morning, that little brother of mine ran downstairs and not seeing any boxes to him that looked like the right size for a PSP (Like I said, if you wanted a toy badly enough, you knew the exact dimensions of the box in millimeters.), he wished the family a half-hearted Merry Christmas and tried to involve himself as merrily as he could muster in the Christmas morning hustle and bustle. Meanwhile, my dad was cracking up to himself watching his grumpy pants son try to pretend to be happy. Well, we finally get around to giving my brother the box, and he dove in. After Plato and Little Women, he wasn’t even trying to hide his massive disappointment. My dad was trying to egg him on with comments like, “Don’t you love to read?” and “Oh, summer reading material! You’re all set.” Then came the redeeming moment: the last package. A tear. A rip. The mask of Darth Vader. A scream. Silence. More screams. Jumping. Running. More screaming. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU.

4. This is my favorite memory that I will begin with a preface statement: MY FAMILY LOVES TO GO TO DISNEY WORLD. The story actually starts several weeks before Christmas morning. This particular holiday season wasn’t exactly all comfort and joy for my parents. Stress and disagreements riddled the days up to December 25. And then Christmas morning. Presents and stockings. And one final box for my mother from my father. It was a stuffed Minnie Mouse with an envelope attached to its wrist-”We’re going to Disney World.” My mom started to cry, and I think now I know that her crying meant more than just getting to see Mickey. And who likes to recall stories of stress and disagreements? But I think the days leading up to Christmas made that morning so much more meaningful for my parents. And I’ll never forget the look on my father’s face: that contented little smile and the sparkling eyes from being so happy at making the people he loves most so so happy.

I love to smell good things like:

1. Lavender. If I could smell like one thing the rest of my life, it’d be lavender-that deep, earthy smell with a hint of flower and a touch of color.

2. Johnson’s Baby Lotion. What is it with this stuff? The smell conjures up blurry images of an age too young to remember clearly.

3. Onions and garlic sauteing in olive oil. Nothing like this smell and the promise of what’s to come-a pot of delicious and hot and rich tomato sauce soon to blanket a mound of fresh pasta.

4. Miss Dior Cherie. My favorite perfume. Ever. I visited a parfumerie in France and sprayed some on myself. Instant new woman.

5. Basil and dill. I worked at a grocery store, and when customers would come through the checkout with these herbs, I’d try to subtly raise the bunch near my face so I could take a nice big whiff. But it’s hard to do that subtly, and I don’t think paying shoppers would appreciate me sticking my schnozzola into their produce.

6. Sea air. That faintly salted breeze carrying minute drops of the ocean that I love so much.

7. Cinnamon Rolls. Cinnamon anything is the food equivalent of a hug for me. Cinnamon in pastry dough with sugary icing is a win-win-win.

8. Polo Blue. The summer, bright and clear, airy and light. But on a man.

9. Stew Leonard’s Deck the Halls coffee blend. You’d wet your pants if you’d smelled it brewing. But oh yeah, it’s discontinued.

10. Beach plum blossoms. Beach plum bushes sit at the edge of the sand, welcoming you to the beach. Maybe it’s the mix with the sea air that makes these smell intoxicating.

11. Bacon. Duh.

12. Barnes and Noble. Yes, the new book smell. The one that makes me want to max out a credit card on blank journals, pens and travel guides.

13. Teriyaki ribs. The thing with teriyaki is it returns on the investment. The carmelized smell of grilled marinated ribs serves as a beacon of hope and future of joy, that thick blanket of flavor infused in the red meat.

14. Fresh ink on newly printed paper. You know when the paper’s still warm? That fresh ink smell promises stories and news and freedom of speech.

15. Easter lilies. That smell of spring and earth and new life. Of hope really.

What are your faves?