Sounds Like Me: My Life (So Far) in Song by Sara Bareilles

Author:Sara Bareilles
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw
Tags: Biography & Autobiography, Personal Memoirs, Composers & Musicians, Entertainment & Performing Arts, Women
ISBN: 9781476727776
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2015-10-05T17:00:00+00:00

The work is learning to love whatever it is, so for now let’s do that, shall we?

I love you, my beautiful girl, and I hope that’s enough.

Love,

Sara

RED

* * *

THE DAY I MET Joni Mitchell was as profound an experience as I have ever had in my life. Now, I will start by saying I’ve never actually met Joni Mitchell, but I was introduced to her music by a total stranger in a tiny music school I stumbled upon in the streets of Italy, in the middle of a nervous breakdown.

I spent the whole of my junior year of college in Bologna, Italy, in an exchange program, studying Italian language, literature, and how many pizzas I could eat in one sitting. (At least two.) My life in Italy was a complicated, yearlong exploration of self-discovery. I was hunting myself down while in the context of a completely foreign world. Some of it was euphoric. Some of it was devastating. All of it was wildly important to shaping me as a human.

HIGHLIGHTS:

I ate the foooooooooooood.

In Italy, it’s totally acceptable for a person to eat an entire pizza alone in one sitting and, well, that’s just outstanding. Italy, you are the granter of wishes. My obsession with Italian food only grew after my year abroad, partly because of the food in Bologna. The city is in the heart of a northern region of Italy called Emilia-Romagna, and is best known for the richness of its cuisine. Hearty, rustic food like meaty Bolognese sauce, long blonde noodles called tagliatelle, and the delicious and fatty mortadella (the Italian bologna) are just a few of the things that were available anytime, anywhere, and were best when washed down with a pizza. I came to know that truly authentic Italian food is actually quite simple, made with a few high-quality ingredients, patience, and plenty of good olive oil. It was hard to find a bad meal, and I didn’t find too many, clearly, as evidenced by the twenty pounds I gained while I lived there, which might be more of a “lowlight” kinda thing.

I went to Rome.

I have never been somewhere new that left such an immediate impression. So much so, that during a long walk along the sloped banks of the wide river through the center of the city, I convinced myself that in a past life I was a Roman girl. I visited a few different times over the year, and each time fell deeper in love with the grandeur and muscle of that sprawling city. Even its rough edges were inviting. I once stayed in a youth hostel near the train station that reminded me of the dark, dilapidated house in Fight Club. I briefly thought my friend and I might actually die at the hands of the madman with peroxide-blond hair, who was living in one of the rooms of the hostel. He mumbled things under his breath like, “Keep me away from that window!!” while we tried not to make direct eye contact.

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