Modigliani and me

In the morning, we realised that there were no bread left, neither were there any breakfast biscuits. What on earth can we do that was quick and easy to make?

I decided to make bananas in coconut milk with the bananas that we bought the other day and with the santan that I brought with me from the flight. Taking the coconut milk out of the fridge, I found it to be rather thick. “The fridge is working well, and is cold 😛 “, Cartcart said. I added a little bit of water and again, the huge bubbles appeared.

A bit of brown sugar, some pandan leaves and cinnamon, the bananas was ready. It wasn’t a typical breakfast, in fact, those were supposed to be dessert but I guess it was good enough for get by.

I decided to also make some Roti Jala. Cartcart wanted to see it being made up close, so we went ahead and added the ingredients together. Eggs, flour, coconut milk and a a bit of tumeric for the colouring.

First few times wasn’t that great as the batter wouldn’t come out of the funnel and I added more and more water till the batter was extremely viscous. The Roti didnt start out that great but at length, We finally managed to come out with something presentable.

Cart : Looks great

Me : Only one problem though

Cart : what’s that?

Me : We usually eat these with curries

Cart : I don’t think theres time to make curry

Me : I guess we have to think of something else

Presenting, the worlds first Roti Jala with Hazelnut cream. Not nice.

In the afternoon, we planned to see the Modigliani display. I asked Narima and her friend to come along but they were too tired from all the travelling the previous days before and had to decline.

Modigliani was an artist who was famous for portraying his women with long necks and oval shaped faces. I stumbled upon him while playing with the face transformer application that I found on the website.

I assumed that the display was held at the Palazzo Venezia where Cart and I saw the Botero display last year. We took the car and saw a number of people on scooters and cars waving the Italian flag.

Italy just won the match against the Czech republic and I heard air-horns, supporters being exhilarated. Since it was hard to get parking at the central area, Cartcart parked the car at the Trastevere Station and we took the metrobus to reach there.

Inside, there were already loads of people. I looked outside and remember some of the places that I passed by previously. Inside, I saw a two men in a verbal argument but I couldn’t catch what they said.

At length, we reached our stop

Me : Oh! I remember this place! This is the cat sanctuary! I see the cats down there

Cart : Yes, but I’m not going down there and then walk back up here again.

Me : At least there’s more shade here 😛

It was a really warm day that day, which was quite sudden, being that the previous days were relatively cool. It was as hot as Singapore, maybe even slightly warmer. The thermometer display next to a nearby pharmacy registered it to be about 34 – 36 degree celcius.

We had a pretty long walk. And my feet were starting to ache. The dr scholl jellies that were supposed to cushion my feet from the heels didn’t seem to work as it was supposed to.

At length, we reached the Palazzo and Cartcart went to get the tickets. He spoke in Italian to the lady at the counter. She shook her head and replied back to him in Italian and pointed to a direction. Cartcart then came up to me.

Cart: The display isn’t held here. It’s in another place.

Me : Which place is it? I could have sworn that it was in Palazzo Venezio

Cart : It’s at the Vittoriano, it’s easy to get these two mixed up 😛

More walking. We walked past the stronghold and then the vittorio emanuele monument and my feet was screaming out in pain. I was regretting that I was wearing heels but at length we were there! Complesso Del Vittoriano!

We entered the museum. One of the first thing we saw was a video display introducing Amedeo Modigliani. It was entirely in Italian! Luckily Cartcart was there to translate.

Modigliani was an Italian who was heavily influenced by his mother, he said. The family was rather eccentric. Modigliani moved to Paris where he was friends with Picasso, which was why some his paintings tended to be lopsided, I realised. He found that it was difficult to keep with a lifestyle in France and stayed in cheaper lodgings and lounged in coffee houses.

That was where he found women for his art subjects. It was there where he started to have his own unique style of drawing women with elongated necks. He met a girl, called Jeanne Hebuterne. They became partners. But in time, Modigliani suffered from tuberculosis and died. Upon hearing the news, Jeanne committed suicide by jumping out of the window with her baby along.

Shocking.

We then proceeded to walk around the gallery and viewed the artwork one by one. I saw how Modigliani started out with sketches and then sculptures to the paintings that he was known for. There were a few canvases that was painted on both sides. Cartcart explained that Modigliani was poor at the time, so he didn’t have enough money to buy more canvases.

I looked at Cartcart engrossed in the artwork. I was happy to see him admiring the paintings. He even remarked, “It’s amazing how he could get the colours so natural with his palette. The painting might look simple but trying to blend it, is a work of art”

The day happened to be the day when Cart’s sis, Paola wanted to celebrate her daughter’s birthday. We stopped by her house for a while and I met Paola, as well as Cart’s parents. We talked for a little bit and I showed her the cards I purchased at the museum.

“It looks like you!”, They remarked.

Cart’s mom found out that I was leaving soon and wished me goodbye and to have a safe flight the next day. I smiled and thanked her, that I was happy to have met her. Cart and I left, hand in hand as we waved our goodbyes.

But inside, I was really was sad to leave. How can I ever cope with this ache again? How can I go through the painful goodbyes again? I just can’t think of tomorrow. My heart will just break.

To be continued