Following a Dream

I am musing today on transportation at Mortal Muses, with an image of–what else–a scooter! Click on over there to see a companion image to this one. The image posted there is my favorite of the two.

This lovely find was another in a back alley of Ortygia in Siracusa, Sicily. Ortygia was scooter heaven. Streets too narrow for cars and a chilly, off-and-on rainy day led to an emptiness that is perfect for my photography. I would have loved to study this scooter with my camera more, but just as I started shooting the owner came out and got ready to leave. I did ask him if I could photograph it for a moment, and he nicely stepped away so I could take one or two more photos (this is one). I showed him the images, thanked him and then let him go on his way.

It’s probably no secret that I have a dream of owning a scooter, after living in Italy. I’ve taken one step toward that dream, by signing up for a Motorcycle Basic Rider Training course in mid-July after we move back to Oregon. I don’t want to buy a scooter and then discover I hate it, so I’m going to take this course and get my bearings and hopefully my motorcycle license. I also don’t want to let too much time go by, and let normal American life wipe out remembrance of my Italian scooter dream, so I’ve committed myself now. I’ll let you know how it goes come July. 🙂

Switching gears… along the lines of my post yesterday on claiming your artist, I later read this post by Stephey Baker at Marked by the Muse. It seems she and I were on the same wavelength! If you resonated with my post yesterday, I encourage you to check out Stephey’s article as well. Each little piece of information, each little insight will take you a step closer to claiming your artist. It you want to, you can do it.

It’s a Mystery

A dilapidated scooter, found in the back alleys of Ortygia. I wonder what happened? Why has this scooter been left here, to slowly decay? The tires are flat, the body is rusting and the seat is coming apart. There is a story here, what is it?

My mind jumps from the simple – the scooter stopped working and the owner couldn’t afford to fix it – to the complex: The person who owned this scooter and lived in this building disappeared under mysterious circumstances and no one to this day wants to move it. The mystery could spawn a novel.

What story do you tell for this scooter?

I’m off this weekend to find the stories in the mosaics of Ravenna and the small country-within-a-country of San Marino. I’m sure there will be some groups of three waiting for me as well. Have a great weekend, I’ll be back here on Monday.