By Megan Pesci- NOT Cortney Claypoole

In the middle of one of the most crowded spaces I have ever been in, I felt completely alone. I stood in the middle of the Pantheon, mouth agape, trying to take in what was before me. Imagining how people way before their time built arguably the most beautiful and architecturally challenging buildings in the world, I found myself lost in my head rather then aware of my surroundings. I felt minuscule, like a little blip on the timeline of the world, in the presence of such a place. When I pulled myself out of the mental  depths I had dug myself in, I crossed myself with the water at the exit and went to leave. This was a bit uncharacteristic for me, as I am about the worst Catholic you could meet, but I felt as if there’s no way art like that could be constructed without a higher power. As I walked out of the Pantheon, I burst into tears. Not because of the out of body experience I just returned from, but because I heard my favorite son being sung in the piazza. My friends and I ran over to the man singing “Time to Say Goodbye” by Italian opera singer Andrea Bocelli and watched him for a half hour or so. I was taken back to my early high school days when my Nonno (grandfather) and I would cook our favorite ravioli in his kitchen with Bocelli over the house speakers. He taught me everything I know about Italy and the culture, so it was neat to almost have a part of him in Italy with me. Once again, I stood in the middle of a space as busy as New York City, completely mesmerized.

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