I was both honored and excited when I learned that my proposal to visit Italy would be funded by a Kast grant. I wrote the proposal with a specific agenda and list of objectives that I hoped to accomplish firmly in mind, and believed that these would be the focus of my trip. I am happy to report that most of those objectives were successfully completed; yet they now seem such a small piece of what the trip ultimately gave to me.

The seeds of my original proposal had come from a conversation I had with Jim Connor several years ago. We were discussing the summer and how my job as Director of GA's Day Camp had gone that season. I wanted him to know that I was unsure of how long I could continue in the position. As an artist I felt it was important that I find a way to use the summer to stay in touch with my art, to find time for the studio and my sculpture. Along these lines I had been thinking about the possibility of developing a summer art program in Italy and asked Jim what he thought about the idea. His response was immediate and enthusiastic. It turns out that Jim had recently returned from a family vacation in Italy and it had proven to be an experience of profound enjoyment for them all. Jim encouraged me to follow up on the idea and to book a flight to Italy as soon as possible.

As is the case with so much of what we would like to do; my idea for a summer art program abroad was pushed into the background while normal job, family and general life routines took over. Finally this year, with some prodding from new faculty member Dr. Ben Olshin, the idea once again surfaced in the form of a 2001 Kast Grant proposal.

The primary purpose of this trip to Italy would be to gather as much information as possible concerning the feasibility of developing a summer studio art program there. We were in contact with the directors of several different existing programs and set up appointments to meet with them and see their facilities. I would visit Rome for a week and then meet Dr. Olshin and head North to Siena and Florence. Being that this was my first trip to Italy I of course also hoped to see as much of the country and it's art treasures as possible. I don't think I really knew just how easy that would be.

The trip was planned to coincide with the two weeks of spring break. I left Philadelphia on Saturday, March 17^th and arrived in Rome the following day around noon. After finding my way to the hotel I quickly unpacked my bags, checked a map to get a general sense of direction, and headed out for a walk in the streets of Rome. I didn't have a particular plan; I just wanted to get a sense of the city. I had walked about 4 blocks from the hotel and was waiting to cross the street, when I noticed a small church on the opposite corner. There was nothing grand about it and I am not sure why, but I decided to walk in and take a look. The interior seemed dark when I first entered but I slowly began to make out people seated in the pews as my eyes adjusted to the dim light. I stopped for a moment, quiet, unsure of whether I should intrude, but then pulled by the glow of a soft light coming from a small side chapel, I moved forward. I was looking down at the marble floor, watching my step, noticing how the light changed on the balustrades of a large marble railing when I felt the warmth of the chapel in front of me. As I raised my eyes I was left instantly breathless. I was standing before Gianlorenzo Bernini's Baroque masterpiece The Ecstasy of St. Theresa. It is a sculpture of immense power and emotion made real by the virtuosity of Bernini's carving.

The sculpture portrays St.Theresa of Avila who had described how an angel had pierced her heart with a flaming golden arrow: "The pain was so great that I screamed aloud but at the same time I felt such infinite sweetness that I wished the pain to last forever. It was not physical but psychic pain, although it affected the body as well to some degree. It was the sweetest caressing of the soul by God."

Bernini made that moment of ecstasy and pain visible in the face of St. Theresa and in the gesture of her body floating towards heaven as her soul is relinquished to God. I was initially moved by this sculpture over twenty-five years ago when for the first time I saw it reproduced. It awoke me from a near sleep as it emerged from the darkness of an art history lecture hall, gleaming brilliantly on the screen above me, its incredible beauty nearly moving me to tears. I had never been so touched by a sculpture or painting before and was almost embarrassed by my reaction, unsure of the emotions I felt and not knowing why I felt them. Now, twenty-five some odd years later the sculpture again emerged from the darkness, the light from a hidden window above, illuminating the soft marble skin of St. Theresa's face. The angel smiling as he gently pulls St. Theresa closer. Knowing. I now stood before the sculpture and saw it as Bernini had intended, felt what he wanted me to feel. This time the tears came; and I understood why.

After what seemed like hours I walked out of the church of Sta. Maria della Vittoria, down the steps and back into the late afternoon light. I realized then that this trip would be different than I had imagined. Yes, I would hold to my original purpose, keep my appointments and gather all of the information that I could. I would meet Ben and travel to Siena and Florence, and then back again to Rome. But that would be the extent of the plans that I would make. I didn't want to read any more guidebooks or follow any tours. True, I had never been to Italy before, yet I had hundreds of close friends there to revisit. They were the friends I had made over the last twenty-five years of study. Some of them I knew intimately and some I knew only by association. Those friends were the paintings and the sculpture, the architecture and the ruins, the place and the history. I wanted to surprise them and have them surprise me and that is precisely what we did.

During the rest of my trip each day was filled with hundreds of reunions and surprises. From the Colosseum and the Forums to the Basilica of Constantine and Trajans Column, from the Pantheon and the Temple of the Sibyl to St. Peters and the Vatican, from the Arch of Titus and The Ara Pacis to the Arch of Constantine, from Michelangelo in Rome to Michelangelo in Florence, from Donatello and Ghiberti to Masaccio and Fra Angelico, from Da Vinci and Raphel to Giorgione and Titian from Cellini and Bologna to Bernini and Borromini, from Rome and Pompeii to Siena and Florence, around each corner and down every street old friends returned.

This trip turned out to be successful in many different ways. We made many contacts and collected a lot of information on existing programs and their facilities and we now have a better sense of all the options that are available to us which should help as we continue to explore the possibility of developing our own program abroad. These were the original objectives of the grant and those objectives were met. Still, as I look back on the trip those things pail in comparison to the time I was allowed to spend getting reacquainted with some very old and dear friends. It rekindled some ancient fires and gave me the fuel I needed to start new ones. The embers are still warm and are waiting just below the ashes to be fed by the breath of new life.