#137 A quick catch-up, an Italian parent-teacher night and a creative balance

Hello friends,

Sorry, I’ve been out of action over the past few weeks. I had the flu and a fever, so I was out of it for a bit. I haven’t been on top of my thoughts and writing because I haven’t been keeping up.

I like to plan my newsletter and have a few drafts going simultaneously, but I’ve lost the momentum and now find myself just writing the newsletter every week as it comes. I skip a few weeks when I get sick or tired, or something else comes up.

I know it’s not very professional, and I don’t have any excuse, but I’m just a writer trying to do her best even though sometimes her best isn’t quite good enough, so please forgive me and let’s move ahead.

I feel like I have so many things to discuss with you. Over the past couple of weeks, the weather has genuinely changed here in Sicily. The temperature has dropped, which means it feels like winter.

Mt Etna has already had its first snow of the season, and we have taken out all of our heavy winter coats. I have a duvet or doona or whatever you like to call those goose feather bed coverings, and the fleecy bed sheets are well and truly in use.

It feels like another time and place compared to a few weeks ago. I have never been a fan of winter, but I don’t mind it so much these days simply because the summer in Sicily is always humid and uncomfortable.

So, I welcome the winter, but ironically, when it arrives, I get slightly depressed. I experience a drastic change in mood simply because it’s colder and the days are shorter, so I spend too much time inside and not enough time outside and being active, which means I tend to get a little down.

I don’t mind the cold much; I prefer it to the humid summer, but like most seasons, it’s about making adjustments.

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Parent-teacher time

This past week, I had my annual parent-teacher night at my son’s high school. I grew up with Australian parent-teacher nights, which were very different in the 90s. Students were supposed to attend one-on-one meetings with a parent. Teachers met with their students and parents, resulting in some exchange or update on the student's activities. Of course, they were a nightmare for me as a young high school student and, I suspect, for the teachers themselves.

Now, Italian parent-teacher nights are on another planet. They are some of the most chaotic events you will ever see. I recall last year, which was my son‘s first year of high school, the administration of his school saw it fit to schedule the entire school's meetings on the same night. You have to understand that there are different schools at my son's school.

There’s a Liceo linguistico, classico, sportivo, artistico, scientifico, scienze applicate. A Liceo is considered a school that’s preparation for going to University, and you choose the general area according to what subjects you prefer (linguistico is languages, classico is classics, sportivo is sports, artistico is art, scientific is maths and science and scienze applicate is the same as scientifico but with I.T thrown into the mix).

Every school had its night of parent-teacher meetings, but there were also five different year groups within every school. Can you imagine five-year groups of the same particular school, language, sport, art, classics, applied science, or science, all scheduled to meet and talk to their professors on the same night? Does that make sense to you? No, it doesn’t, so the result was absolute chaos and confusion.

Thank goodness this year, the school decided to spread the meetings over a week and around the different campuses. Don’t get me wrong; it was still chaos but at a more manageable level. I meant being on my feet and in line for the whole afternoon, but at least I saw all of my son’s teachers.

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to meeting my son’s professors. I’m always nervous and aware of my Italian. Inevitably, this is highlighted as soon as I open my mouth, and they immediately say I’m a foreigner. I hate being constantly reminded of this, and I wonder if this might make them see my son as someone less worthy of their attention. It’s annoying and tiresome to start a conversation with the exact phrase … ‘Ma lei e’ straniera …’

Are you a foreigner? You aren’t from here, or any other variation, are usually the phrases my son’s professors first use to address me. I politely say yes, I’m Australian, and I have been living in Italy for many years, but my accent isn’t going to change.

I’m tempted to ask them why they feel obliged to say that to me. Do they have no internal voice? Can’t they keep that observation to themselves? Do they want to hear my life’s story? Why is it so vital for them to mention it when I am there to talk about my son? Just one time I’m tempted to have this difficult conversation instead of simply brushing it aside.

I assume it’s because they don’t often hear my type of accent. I doubt there is any maliciousness to their observation. Italy is most definitely a mono-cultural society, very different from Australia, America, or even the UK, where it’s normal to have people from many other countries within a multicultural society.

Yes, there are plenty of other foreigners in Italy, like myself, but they are expected to conform to the norm. Even with their accents.

I once talked with an American couple who had bought a house and decided to retire to Italy. They asked me how long it takes to become fluent in Italian. My answer was that it very much depends on the person. It took me about five years of full immersion to feel confident with my Italian. You never really stop learning. And you will always be reminded of your foreign accent, so perhaps you will never be fully fluent, or considered assimulated by other Italians.

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A loss of words

Sometimes, I’m at a loss for words. In the sense that I don’t know what to write. Often I get to the end of the year and run out of words, energy, and vitality.

It’s only the beginning of winter, and I already feel like I’ve gone into hibernation. Things are all on autopilot for now. As if my brain, body, and emotions cannot be stretched further, they’ve reached their yearly limits.

I’m overwhelmed, burnt out, and perpetually exhausted. I'm stuck with no desire or motivation to move forward. It's a tough spot to be in a real rut. I’m unsure how everyone else makes it through, but I struggle.

So, if it’s alright with you, I will take it a bit easier over the next month because I need to rest and regroup. So, things are going to be a lot less disciplined than they have been up until now.

I’ll post when I can, but I’m not going to put myself under any unnecessary pressure. After all, I want to return to it all next year, so I don’t want to get to the point where I feel like simply throwing in the towel.

So expect posts to arrive less regularly over the next month or so. Perhaps they will be shorter or arrive randomly during the week rather than over the weekend. I’m generally going to keep it looser and more fun for me while always giving something back to you without completely losing myself, which would be a real shame.

After all, I've already written 136 posts on this newsletter. It’s been two years. I began in February 2023 and wrote edition number one through to 92.

2024 began in January this year with post number 93, and I am already at post 137, so perhaps it’s time I give myself a little break and acknowledge the work I’ve already done.

This year’s word count on the newsletter is already 76,333 words, which is the length of a good size a novel. I generally try to write 1000 words for my paid post and something similar for my free posts. So that isn’t half bad.

I am considering putting my more popular posts into a physical collection or anthology for 2024, both for myself and my readers. Are there any ideas for a title? To me, A Load off my mind: an Anthology seems a bit dull.

Creative work-life balance

So often, creatives and writers convince themselves that they’re not doing enough work and, therefore, surreptitiously become workaholics, doing three times the amount of work to prove they are worthy of being creative.

Since they don’t have a regular 9-to-5 job, they seem to want to justify their creative pathway by doing as many things as possible, inadvertently putting too much pressure on themselves and doing too much.

I do this to myself. I’m constantly thinking that I’m not writing enough. I’m not dedicating enough time to my writing; I must catch up to everyone else in a regular job. But this is not the case for a creative career. There is no 9 to 5. You’re always working, so you need to pace yourself. You must acknowledge your routine and maintain a rhythm without losing yourself to your work.

With creative work, the line between work and life is very blurred. Some artists get around this lack of definition by having a studio of some kind, so they go from their house to the studio as if they were going from their house to a place of work.

That way, work and life become separate as they have their home life, then they go out the front door, down the street or across the town, or wherever their Studio is, and then they keep their work in their studio. This is a good system, but quite often, as with most people who love their job. It’s easy to bring your work home with you.

I know I am always thinking about my work.

Take care of yourself, and thanks for letting me share my mind.

Regards from

Rochelle

Sometimes, I talk about Sicily.

Other times, I talk about whatever is on my mind.

My writing is always about lightning, the mental load, and sharing my thoughts.

I hope you enjoy the randomness of A Load Off My Mind.

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