Waking up in the city of Florence to the church bells tolling, it was surreal to be in a country I had never been to before, immersed in a culture so rich it seemed overwhelming. Within four days I had visited at least five different museums and had seen more art than I have ever before. To say the least, my body was aching and my mind was racing.

Our first stop was the Uffizi Gallery which formerly held the offices of the Florentine magistrates and was later converted into an incredibly prominent art gallery for the city. Within one of its most packed rooms held Boticelli's Birth of Venus, which had a swarm of people around it desperate to get a photograph of the painting, evidently their form of proof of having seen it. Having finally found a good view of the painting, I began to think that seeing the image reproduced so many times before did slightly taint the experience of seeing the original. I expected it to be larger, despite it's already grand scale, though perhaps it being behind glass offered some unwanted glares of light. Regardless, it was a phenomenal piece to experience in person and i feel very privileged to have studied its marks and colors with my own eyes. As a sketched some of the sculptures that lined the gallery's long and bright hallways, I found it surprising how many people stopped to observe me drawing, rather than look at the piece themselves. I struggled to continue the sketch with gazing eyes upon me and instead chose to observe the marble itself. Those whose eyes were on me followed the lead and began to look a little more closely.

I found it perplexing how many people skimmed by some of the most immaculate art, desperately for their photo documentation and then scurry off to the next best-known masterpiece. It was disheartening to say the least, though perhaps being around it so often allowed me to realize when time does have to be taken. I do greatly believe it is fair to say that to witness such art is a once in a lifetime experience, and one I am very grateful for. Yet, as a photographer, I find it increasingly distracting to see so many people on a phone, eager to post to Instagram and Twitter to show the public how wonderful their experiences have been. I felt guilty doing the same, wanting to show my family abroad what we were up to and wondered if that compulsive need to share will ever diminish. I do hope it will.

This segment of my trip was a great opportunity to see so many different cultures of people wanting to share the same experience on social media, though I contemplate if their images or thoughts are really very different to others' at all. Being involved in today's art culture, as well as society itself, which is so incredibly dependent on social sites for promotion, exposure and community, I am beginning to understand that my wanting to stay away from just that is going to be nearly impossible. Though I love platforms such as Instagram, I refuse to let it dictate my decisions, time or personal beliefs; it is simply a way to be in touch.

There is so much one could write about the art in Florence, and I am sure I will continue to do just that, though I couldn't help but begin to watch the public and the mass of tourists and how their ambitions and actions differ. The city has been wonderful, the food is fantastic, as is the wine and I look forward to someday being back in such a quaint and historic city! Though I won't miss having the church bells as an automatic alarm clock, I will miss wandering the maze of streets, a city that is absolutely in itself an art piece.