Upon an ancient rock on a little hill in Umbria, within a bright clearing amongst the trees, sits a vast marble court yard. Cracked and overgrown with weeds and wild flowers, it leads to a giant stone building laced with hanging vines. In this this structure, built as a monastery, known to be at least 700 years old dwells a small inhabitant who has settled a bed in one of its 30 rooms. And for 30 years she has been mistress of this monstrous paradise, until the now sweet age of 78. Rosamonda is a petite wide eyed white haired wonderment junky. Time has not seen her grow stale but quite the opposite. Each morning she watches her educational documentary on Steven Hawking, before preparing a blended breakfast of carrot and fruit juice which is dotingly shared with her 4 pet turtles and 3 cats. Aside from her pets she is seldom alone. I am one of the many travelling helpers who have come to work for Rosamonda in exchange for her hospitality and the chance to stay in this beautiful place. It seems to me,her main reason for hosting helpers is to have them make strange new artistic creations in her yard and thus fuelling her thirst for the wonderful things of life. Previous projects include an elaborate fantastical tree house with and inbuilt indian shrine and Egyptian pyramid, a yin yang garden and a giant eye on a stick. My creative attempts were sadly unsuccessful with my short time trying to make a swing in which the user envelops their head within a glass bell. The result was "heading" more in the direction of becoming a messy device for decapitation so it was better the project was aborted. I did tidy up the "bits and pieces of wood" shed and made a storage rack from a couple of old beds, so that was satisfying.
During my stay, the place was port to many an interesting passing traveller. The place was overlooked by a stereotypical, disciplined, methodical German but with the unexpected addition of a giant heart and vast emotional capacity. I had some wonder full conversations with a talented sculpture from the alternative, dread locked, new age back blocks of Australia who challenge my assurance in my judgement of what I may typically interpret as air headed thinking. Rosamonda is a great believer in the power of the Pyramid. She has great confidence in its ability to heal the body, charge batteries, purify water and preserve food. We did not find the time to affirm her claims experimentally, though my back ground reading on the subject gave me only claims of well conducted experiments unsuccessful in proving any supernatural power from the pyramid shape.
Highlights included a breakfast of banana pancakes 8m high in the tree house which was loaded to its unnerving volumetric capacity of 6 people, the night of sharing our own music and art from each of the creative travelling inhabitants and inflicting them all with my experimental ice cream flavours. Black Pepper ice cream, being my proudest new invention. Another gastronomical adventure was a brew of cherry bark tea which Rosamond claimed would cure my flemmy lungs. After stripping a branch and boiling the bark I was left with a potent bitter red liquid. The Australian sculptor suggested I tested the solution by placing a few drops on my elbow pit, close to the blood. I placed a few drops here then continued immediately afterwards to drink the full cup. No obvious positive or negative effects were experienced in my lungs, though a minor rash had developed in my elbow pit by the evening. According to my background reading, cherry bark is widely accepted to contain medicinal substances helpful for many ailments including flemmy lungs, but also an acid which can be harmful if you drink more than the recommended dosage of three cups per day each containing a tea spoon of the bark.
Rosamonda gives you the sensation of being very special to her and the estate despite its vast extended family. I left with the understanding that the Sasso is home to everybody in the entire world, those who continuously return to the safety of its timeless reviving walls and those who will never know that it even exists.
During my stay, the place was port to many an interesting passing traveller. The place was overlooked by a stereotypical, disciplined, methodical German but with the unexpected addition of a giant heart and vast emotional capacity. I had some wonder full conversations with a talented sculpture from the alternative, dread locked, new age back blocks of Australia who challenge my assurance in my judgement of what I may typically interpret as air headed thinking. Rosamonda is a great believer in the power of the Pyramid. She has great confidence in its ability to heal the body, charge batteries, purify water and preserve food. We did not find the time to affirm her claims experimentally, though my back ground reading on the subject gave me only claims of well conducted experiments unsuccessful in proving any supernatural power from the pyramid shape.
Highlights included a breakfast of banana pancakes 8m high in the tree house which was loaded to its unnerving volumetric capacity of 6 people, the night of sharing our own music and art from each of the creative travelling inhabitants and inflicting them all with my experimental ice cream flavours. Black Pepper ice cream, being my proudest new invention. Another gastronomical adventure was a brew of cherry bark tea which Rosamond claimed would cure my flemmy lungs. After stripping a branch and boiling the bark I was left with a potent bitter red liquid. The Australian sculptor suggested I tested the solution by placing a few drops on my elbow pit, close to the blood. I placed a few drops here then continued immediately afterwards to drink the full cup. No obvious positive or negative effects were experienced in my lungs, though a minor rash had developed in my elbow pit by the evening. According to my background reading, cherry bark is widely accepted to contain medicinal substances helpful for many ailments including flemmy lungs, but also an acid which can be harmful if you drink more than the recommended dosage of three cups per day each containing a tea spoon of the bark.
Rosamonda gives you the sensation of being very special to her and the estate despite its vast extended family. I left with the understanding that the Sasso is home to everybody in the entire world, those who continuously return to the safety of its timeless reviving walls and those who will never know that it even exists.
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