The Jewish Ghetto of Roma

I read a brief passage in one of the guides about the area formerly known as the Jewish Ghetto in Rome. The original ghetto stood along the Tiber on Lungotevere di Cenci in a place where the Tiber had no walls or real banks. Water from the Tiber would flow over its edges a couple of times a year and since this part of the city sat below the level of the river, homes, businesses, shops and places of worship would get flooded. The emperor at the time decided this was the best place for the ghetto. Around 1200 AD. The ghetto went through various phases of containment; gated, curfewed, etc. As various kings and popes obtained power the restrictions became greater. Eventually Jews were forced to sell all their landed property, even that in the ghetto and pay rent instead. They were allowed only to live in the ghetto. They were allowed only one building in which to house a synagogue. For many hundreds of years the Jews of Rome were only Roman. (The Jewish population dates back to @120BC.) As Jews from other countries fled persecution (Spain, Portugal) the Jewish population diversified and Roman Jews were joined by Ashkenazi and Sephardic Jews. The community of the Ghetto created 5 synagogues within their one religious building.

The Ghetto stood and functioned for hundreds of years. In 1901 Rome, in an effort to apologize for the years of discrimination and persecution, the goverement raized the ghetto and began construction of a great synagogue on part of the land where it once stood. Oddly (to me) no Jews took part in designing the building. It was drafted by Romans and Christians. When it was complete in 1904 the king decreed it a national monument. When you stand in the center of Rome you can see the domes of St. Peter's and the synagogue. This was to be a great mark of pride, and recognition for Jews as part of the Roman community. Interestingly, during WWII, the synagogue was not harmed. An agreement was struck to not bomb and of the national monuments of Rome during the Nazi occupation. The king could not have known in 1904 that he would be saving the synagogue.

Now the first level of the synagogue building is a museum. It contains contributions from Roman families for hundreds of years. Documents, textiles, silver work, shawls, ornaments. There is actually very little about WWII overall which surprised me. I did wander about with a little of the, "Can't a People catch a break?!" feeling. I was bummed by the strict rules against taking photographs. In 1982 there was a terrorist bombing at the entrance during the Sukkot holiday. On the last day of Sukkot families bring their children to the synagogue to eat in the sukka and be blessed by the rebbi. During the bombing children were injured and one killed and ever since then they've tightened security down; no pictures, bag searches, police at the gates.

The ghetto area now is mostly the synagogue and a few kosher eateries. I found another little elbow place and had prosciutto with stewed vegetables and rigatoni pomodoro. I haven't had a meal yet that knocked me over but I also haven't left a table with any regrets or disomfort. Everything has hit the proverbial spot.

Speaking of which. I really think it is time for dinner...

Well, that's special.

Some weeks ago I finally bit the bullet on a pair of Chaco's PedShed shoes. I love my Chaco sandals and thought these would be the perfect addition to my winter footwear wardrobe. Especially since they came with the promise of being able to go sockless for at least part of the winter given the identical eva footbed that the sandals use.

When they arrived I was pretty pleased. The leather feels soft to the touch and the sole has great flex. They just felt a little tight. So I tried out this shoe stretching trick I learned a few years ago: insert a ziplock bag into the shoe, fill part way with water and seal. Place shoe, with bag of water, in the freezer overnight. In the morning, let the shoe sit out for 10 or so minutes before removing the bag of (now) ice. Use a towel to wipe out any excess condensation or ice. Ta da! Since water naturally expands when frozen the even expansion helps stretch your shoe. Works best on leather.

So, I tried the trick. Not once, not twice but many times and still the tightness won't give. It gets the tiniest, smiggiest bit better and then, by the end of the day, they feel tight again (I blame this on my feet swelling during the day, as all our feet do.) You can imagine what it was like trying to put these closer-than-a-glove shoes on this morning. When I travel and walk a metric ton every day my feet swell and I abuse the crap out of them, making them see one more street, one more shop, one more sight before considering turning back. This morning the shoes barely went on, but they did go on. By the time I got back to the Colisseum I was dying. I pulled my Toms out of my bag and slipped them on. In comparison it felt like slipping my hurty feet into little clouds of sleepy heaven. Now, I brought the Toms thinking they would be relief shoes. I did not think I would be wearing them all day. Cause really, they're not supportive enough for that. Tomorrow it's back to the hiking boots. And when I get back stateside I will ice the Chacos. Again. And again. And again.

No, America doesn't have history, it has character.

You want history? Try walking into the Colisseum and feeling old. (FYI, the Roma Pass is worth the money for skipping the lines to both the Colisseum and Forum alone. Seriously. Why waste your precious foot power on standing in line?) With construction starting in, oh, 70-72 AD it's hard to see American history as deep and long standing. Walking through the corridors and around the peritmeter I kept thinking about the people who worked on the buildings. (I visited part of the Roman Forum, as well.) Every fluted cornice, flowered edge, grooved corner, carved letter made me think of the hands that created each item. The skill and precision, great enough to last, literally, thousands of years. I would love to leave a mark like that on our world. And I am not talking about using styrofoam to create my great legacy.

Sitting inside the Forum (it seems redundant to call in the Roman Forum...) I sketched the Basillica of Fulvia-Amelia and listened to the families wander past. Everyone seems to flow along at the same sort of steady pace. Built for looking, but not too close, moving, but not too fast. The Tourist Walk.  I listened to families chat about the odd cat wandering through the ruins, in places where mere tourists\mortals are no longer allowed to tread. I contemplated the oddness of an an entire city center becoming abandoned enough to go to ruin. There is something fascinating in the contrast between the soft, fleshy, impermanent bodies wandering through the grounds and the tenacious durability of the ruins themselves. it boggles me, given human tendency toward use and sprawl, that this complex came to be an empty monument, rather than a thriving, occupied part of the metropolis.

I sat and watched the crowds around Trevi Fountain, not once, but twice. In the afternoon the crowds seemed evenly spread across the fountain. In the evening the crowd was more concentrated at the front. Seeing dozens and dozens of people performing the ritual of throwing coins over their shoulders I thought about why they did it. What they knew of the legends and superstitions. I watched people creating group shots. A constant flow of excited folks up and down the surrounding stairs. The come, they toss, they snap, they leave. Although my butt was freezing from sitting on the travertine ledge I was glad to sit and watch awhile. Once the sun had gone down there was something different in the air. It seemed more romantic. More magical. Though I don't really understand what it is about night time that does that. The lights were gentle, the water all shiny. I saw a dude steal some coins (bastard) but other than that people were polite, excited, and quick.

I found a little place for dinner that struck the desired balance of price\size\proximity to the metro\offerings to win me over. The food wasn't amazing but the atmosphere was great. Families, couples, obvious friends of the owners. It was warm and warmly lit. They served the wine with a tiny clay pitcher. The gnochi was perfectly cooked. And now, once more, I must sleep. Awesome day. And several more to come.

I will have to do some picture-heavy posts when I get home. Tranfering them while I am here is a giant time suck.

It's been a long day. Or two. Three?

I made it! And yet again find myself delicately making my way forward with an odd keyboard where all of the puntuation symbals have resettled themselves somewhere else on the board. So. You've been warned.

Early in the adventure

Where to start? How about calling everything up to stepping off of the plane in Rome a wash. (We ended up leaving Newark around 11pm? I think.) Managed to get in, get lost in the train station, pay a ransom for some Euro and SHOWERED! It was one of the most beautiful feelings in the whole world. Note to self: expect swathes of blue lint all over yourself if flying in new jeans. Even if they've been washed once.



I spent the rest of my first real evening wandering near the Spanish Steps and all of the fancy pants shops therein. So many gorgeous things, so many Euro on the price tags. The more I travel the more I see our differences overshadowed by our similarities. Kids, everywhere, are crazy. Rambunctious, wear colorful and crazy combinations of clothes, squeel with glee when playing with siblings and amazingly, they really do know how to behave to preserve parental sanity in times of need (like sleeping at the airport and getting delayed over and over again.)

Waking up in Newark

I had the mini-revelation that Italians may love color in their home decor (this is something we speak of quite often at school, the European tendency toward full-throttle color in their home textiles v. Americans palettes of neutrals) but they don't seem too into it on the clothing front. Even Valentino shied away from colors outside of red, white and black. Pretty much every person I have seen since setting foot in Newark (and who could be identified as Italian) was wearing head-to-toe dark colors, well-crafted leather shoes and shiny, black puffer jackets. Stylish, perhaps. But there is a sameness, too. All that chicness creates a kind of uniform. It occured to me that Americans love of color in their day to day wardrobes is also a reflection of their stereotypical boisterous, loudness. Which makes a lot of sense.

Folks on carsousels. ON!

A plane tugger with it's lonely lights on

Although it is merely 945pm I am heading in to hit the hay. I can't wait to sleep in a bed. A flat, padded surface. With blankets that will really cover me. Without my bra on. It's gonna be bliss. I've also included some photos of my adventures in Newark. Rome itself coming soon. 

Buona sera, signorina, kiss me goodnight!

I write you now from the floor of Newark airport in beautiful, snow-clad NJ. I've been on these floors for over 24 hours now and my butt is tired. My gut is tired of airport food. My phone has been my salvation; providing me with entertainment (camera, Facebook, and Netflix!) and a platform for communicating with the outside world: my insurance agent, my hostel, my family. Given my lackluster love of thumb-typing I shall give a brief, bulleted outline of events that brought us here.
-Christmas! Love, joy, food and gifts
-check facebook befire bed xmas day, learn of impending blizzard
-futile attempts to contact Delta and Alitalia to learn of cancellations
-constant checking of flight status to Rome, where I am headed for New Years
-wait over an hour on hold with my travel agent, no news but suggests I leave for the airport Right Now
-wrangle parents(who were gracious, funny and supportive) onto the road
-witness remains of several accidents enroute to Newark Int'l
- flight status still On Time
-several inches of snow on ground, lim'd visibility
-get checked in, they are trying to get us out early, WOO!
-wait. Wait some more.
-boarding! Early!
-technical issues, confusion, lights and engines shut off. Still at gate.
-sit on plane for over THREE HOURS and learn flight will be canceled. Tech issue delayed departure. Screwed.
-no answers on when airport will reopen. Vague promises of morning departure. And a meal voucher.
-find cold, hard piece of floor to call my own. Sleep fitfully. Shiver. Relocate.
-new sleep location packed. Bodies sprawled everwhere. Like India, or socks exploded from hamper. Chaos.
-manage sleep. And drool. And sleep wrinkles. On drooly face.
-wake at 630 unable to sleep further. Hear traveler say he's gonna need a hip replacement after this trip.
-confusion and rumors abound as people try to locate Alitalia staffers who have also, presumably slept on floors.
-no sight or word from Alitalia. It is 1130am
-rumors of 2pm departure. Then 4pm. Then 6pm.
-learn new plan. Get new boarding pass. It has no departure time on it.
-pace. Wait. Get new food voucher. I have been her 24 hours
- wander to baggage claim in search of outlet for phone
-witness people sleeping On Top of carousels. Under signs saying not to get on carousels.
-charge phone. Fall asleep laying inside carousel track while listening to netflix. Drool. Shiver. Wake up.
-venture back upstairs and wait like a vulture for gate hall to reopen so i can go through security. Again.
-find new outlet. Wait.

They say we'll be leaving from Newark. I won't believe it until we're an hour in the air. Not much longer now. They say. Pictures to come.

Sleepy, full and happy.

I traveled homeward to my parents' home in New Jersey yesterday only to arrive at an empty house. My parents were still at work and I seized the opportunity to unload my car, wrap a few last gifts and watch the rest of Weeds Season 5. By the time the 'rents rolled in the door I was relaxed, accomplished and making myself at home. I enjoyed a delicious dinner of free-range chicken and home made mashed potatoes with whole garlic cloves crushed in. Snuggling into the loft to sleep last night I thought, "This not having to work stuff is the tits!"

I should totally have gotten this for my Mama for Xmas!

Waking up was yet another pleasant prospect as today held the promise of knocking a few things off of my Mom's to-do list (-->), eat a waffle with honey and peanut butter (check!) and go see Cirque du Soleil!!!!!!








You may recall that I wrote about my mother's birthday a few weeks ago and what we would be doing to celebrate further down the road. Welllll, tonight was the night! Neither of my parents had seen a Cirque performance before which made it all the more special. Sitting in the darkened arena, feeling the drums pound and the seeing the lights flash over the crowd... it was amazing. I turned to look at my mother's face and she was so totally transfixed. At some point I shared with my Mom and Sam that all of the music and vocals were live; that the singers were on stage with the other performers. Every step, every article of costuming, every prop, every note was mesmerizing. Even when the performers showed their humanity a time or two with tiny slip ups.

Today was one more awesome day in a string of what have proven to be a few fantastic weeks. The semester is wrapped, my grades are great, my RAs rocked closing, my students are all safely off on their way home, I've slept and feasted and it's not even Christmas yet. There's still time for a few more Christmas Miracles! to be had. (Whenever something goes right or well at this time of year my family is prone to shouting out, "It's a Christmas Miracle!")

Tomorrow we bake, tidy, soothe the nerves of the hostess and enjoy the sparking tree in the corner. Hurray!

Repurposing, redecorating and celebrating!

Good afternoon! I write you now from the comfort and familiarity of my sofa. Drinking Blue Moon's "Winter Abbey Ale", watching old seasons of "Weeds" and renewing my holiday cheer.

Several years ago my Mom got me a silver, twiggy, fiber-optic Christmas tree. I loved it! It's been a fabulous little tree. But, somewhere, during my many house moves it seemed to have gotten a bit wobbly. I dismantled the base completely to find the source of the wobbly bits. The sleeve that held the pretty trunk of my little tree had broken off one its supports. After hunting about for alternative ways to support the base I came up with some hot glue and twist ties. The following year the base was less stable than ever and I had to prop the tree up by sliding books beneath the base on one side. It was very sad. Very Charlie Brown.

I hit on the idea of turning my dress form into the new base for my "tree". The beauty of the fiber-optic tree was that there was no need for lights. The dress form needed lights. With lights on I knew I could string her  up with ornaments, topper and beads. She's a thing of beauty. I hope you enjoy her, too!

Have you watched Weeds? and a brief update

In the glorious downtime I've been enjoying these last few days I have also begun watching the series "Weeds". So far I have seen about 8 episodes and so far I am in love. Mary Louise Parker is so much funnier than I remembered. What I remember her most from, however, is Fried Green Tomatoes. So perhaps I have a skewed perception.

Between episodes of "Weeds" I've been knocking other things off of my to-do list. I picked up a few more holiday gifts today and threw my party tonight. I didn't think about it until the end of the evening but most of us who attended will not be in the same room again together. Some graduated from our program. Me moving to Minnesota in the summer. It was sobering in that way I realized I've been functioning under a thin blanket of denial. I may spend whole evenings trolling Craigslist Minneapolis for apartment listings but that doesn't mean I'm ready to go. Yet.

Letterpress to the rescue!

As a child I remember digging into my mother's dresser to find the box of birth announcements she kept there. Delicate little pieces of folded paper with deckle-edging. I remember asking about the announcements and hearing about "real" cards, "real" announcements, "real" invitations. "Real" printing meant letterpress.

Everything about letterpress is different from modern printing. The ink isn't merely applied to the surface, rather it is pressed into the paper, becoming part of it. The texture is different. You need special kinds of cardstock. Special ink. And above all else, you need the plate. 

You can imagine my glee, then, to find out about The Mandate Press. TMP is a "design driven," "modern letterpress operation based in Salt Lake City, Utah." For $95 you can use one of their swanky templates or even get a completely custom business card. I spoke with one of the women who works there and got feedback on my digital file before committing to my order. PLUS! They sent me a short stack of sample cards to let me know what the qualities are like and I'm psyched!

If you've seen "Despicable Me" you might remember the little girl with her fluffy white unicorn? **Warning, it's on loop and she is BOISTEROUS!** Why do I bring little Agnes into this? Cause that's how I feel about these cards. I'm that excited!!!

A Christmas gift

I'm curious whether my brother would actually be reading this blog... so part of me is nervous to post here and part of me just wants to get some feedback. Since this wouldn't be the biggest surprise in the world to him (unless he forgot that conversation from Thanksgiving...) I'm gonna go ahead and do it anyway!

I'm working on calling cards for my brother, who keeps meeting awesome people and I want for him to be able to leave a memorable bit behind. He's super talented and a very hard worker and the opportunities coming his way are pretty awesome. Now if only he can find a way to make a solid mark on the brains (and pockets!) of these random encounters...

I'm not familiar enough with diesel engines to know what the iconic parts would be. I am, however, familiar enough to small engines, motorcycles and cars to identify a few things that might work well as images on these cards. I spent a few hours this evening tossing around ideas and drawings and shook these out of my brain. Sprockets, spark plugs and gears are inextricably linked to engines in my mind's eye.  

I enjoy making something on this small scale. It's interestingly freeing from the constraints of repeat design and certainly harkens back to my first lessons in what makes a good composition. Odd numbers of elements. Creating pathways for the eye to move through the piece without bouncing right out of it. I need to find a way to work color into these cards. Lots of folks have black and white cards. I want him to have something that sets him apart, creates a memory and gets him work that he will love. Cause that's what leaving your mark with someone can do. And he so deserves it!

I would love to hear your feedback, insight, etc. You love diesel engines? You wanna tell me what iconic thing would make these sing? Lay it on me!

Warm, Winter wishes

Recently I set out on a mission to find a fun, compact and perhaps even slightly elegant holiday card. Not a "Happy Holidays" card with a Christmas tree or Santa Claus on it. Because these cards are not holiday-neutral. Just like having a Secret Santa is still an extension of a Christian holiday. Or having a card scattered in green and red packages and stockings hung by a chimney means something special.

My parents came from different faiths (Christian and Jewish) and I remember early childhood with combo holidays; matzoh at Easter, dreidel under the Christmas tree. Having lived a majority of my life as having no specific faith I find it fascinating now to see the wide-reaching impact of Christianity. All the way down to secular greeting cards. Because I have celebrated Christmas all my life I have fond memories of the holiday. Because I identify as a Jewish woman I don't want Christmas iconography on my holiday cards. Plus, my pals are all over the place. So. The quandary.

I didn't have time to go with cards I found online. But I was amused by these none-the-less. My favorite was really the Underground-themed Happy Hanukkah from Brooklyn. Unfortunately the link to that was one dead by the time I found it. It's awesome.

In the meantime I also found a whole slew of Jewish penguin items I will be linking to a friend. For she loves penguins. Hardcore.

Timbuk2, want you bad

I spent the current semester working with a group on a business model project based on an extant company. We chose Timbuk2, the messenger bag company based in San Fransisco. Throughout the semester and the project we fell deeper and deeper in love with the company. At the conclusion of the project that we thought we should send our work to Timbuk2. And see what they think.

We came up with the idea of creating reusable coffee sleeves made from waste materials as promotional items. We see the sleeves distributed at festival and community fairs. I've been a great fan of T2's for many years. It was fun and interesting to see the evolution of my group-mates fandom.

The patterns in the sleeves were based on Fall 2011 color, material and pattern trends (WGSN and StyleSite) and we hit on the idea of Geek Chic. All the patterns are based on math symbols. I had so much fun with them and I definitely want to continue developing light, very graphic patterns as I move into the spring. It was freeing to do a short stack of repeats that weren't going to be a huge collection. It was rejuvenating. So I totally want to do it again! Here's a shot of the coffee sleeve idea:  So, what do you think?

Birthday follow-ups

So... I know what you really wanted to know! How'd the birthday shindig go?

Well, since you asked: FABULOUS! My mother did not know that I was going home to see her so she was surprised to see me walk in the door. She was already in pj's. When my stepdad came in he acted surprised to see me to and I played into it. Then, tables turned. Sam: "I think it's time for you to put your clothes back on. We're going out." From there the surprises kept popping: the car service, going to pick up my stepbrother and his lady friend, the restaurant (Rats at the Grounds for Sculpture in NJ). The food was amazing, the drinks tasty, the company wonderful. We got her to stop tearing up long enough to taste every delicious thing that came out. And then sprung the last part of the surprise on her: tickets to Cirque du Soleil's Dralion. Hurray!

It was a wonderful night. For a woman who is both difficult to surprise and wary of big events this was a total success. I'm so happy we made an awesome night for her. Loooooooooooooooooooooooooooove you Mom!

One more, and then... a taste of freeeeeeeeeeeeedom!

We reviewed our websites as a group this afternoon and inched a little closer to the close of the semester. Each day is equal parts hurry-up-lets-do-this and but-this-time-next-year.... I am anxious for some downtime and also keenly aware that the end of grad school draws ever near. And that I will miss this.

Perhaps not this. Not the crunch of final crits, hurried deadlines, lax self-care and heaps of dirty laundry mocking me from the corner of my bedroom (a constant reminder that I have that to do as well, so hop to it!). I will not miss having my entire day stacked dawn to dusk with appointments, commitments, classes and such.

I will miss those last minute inspirations. I will miss selecting yarns for my own work. I will miss the camaraderie of the studio and the intimacy of sharing creation processes with classmates and professors. From undergrad I miss group crits where everyone spoke, even when it was to contribute negative feedback. I will miss the veritable safety net of creating with freedom, without the fetters of "will this get me a job." Cause that's a pretty awesome and unique experience.

When the days are crazy and time is short I feel the need to remind myself of the things that made me want to come back to school in the first place. There are things I will miss. By acknowledging them now I have the opportunity to soak it up just a little better.

A milestone for Mama

Today is my mother's 60th birthday. I find this kind of amazing. She has been and continues to be a great force in my life. There are many reasons this year is extra special. I hope that she has a wonderful time tonight. I hope that she feels how loved and appreciated she is.

And on the sixth night of Hanukkah the Lord said, Let There Be Design!

Ok, I know that this is not the way it went down. By the sixth night the supplies were more than thin and the light was ever more precious. During this very busy time of the year I am grateful to have my own little miracles popping up. A friend made the fabulous offer of hosting my website and tonight... tonight, it went live!
Now that I have gotten to the completion stage I can completely understand how addictive web design is. There is a fantastic feeling of accomplishment in getting those boxes to behave, those links to send you in the right direction. For me there is the added accomplishment of having a solid collection of my work available at my fingertips. Literally! How cool is it that I can show people my work anywhere with a strong cell phone signal? I've come a long way from having to tote around a giant portfolio or boxes of delicate, expensive slides.
My next round of work to go on the site will likely be older work, furniture, art objects and sculpture. Then the mapping! So far, so awesome. Head on over and check it out! http://sarahjsheber.com

I got published!

It's happened before, I'll admit. But not for my writing so far as I can recall. My mother asked me to write her a list of traits I seek in my holy quest for cardigans. For me, cardigans are more than mere fashion item, they are darn near a lifestyle. I hadn't anticipated what would come out when I started but it was very fun to write. Hope you enjoy this!
Treatise on a Cardigan

Just a few hours more and it shall be accomplished...!

I am about to go live with my first portfolio website, and I am super excited! There will be a link from the "About" page to direct you back here for musings, textile news and life updates. Yes, I know, you're excited, too!

And we're off!

Welcome to the maiden voyage of my design blog! I'll keep you abreast of updates in my design work, things that inspire me and what's going on in my world. Hope you enjoy your peeks into my sparking brain.

Much love!