This is probably going to be my last late night here at the studio at Via Nazionale, and to a certain degree it's a little bit bittersweet. Tomorrow afternoon I'll be hosting my final critique to my peers and the incredibly engaged panel (I consider myself lucky to be presenting my work to OCAD's new associate dean, a former OCAD president, and the distinguised and gentle Peter Porcal). My artist statement is ready to go, my work is rolled up in the hallway ready to be hung over tomorrow's lunch break, and I figured that while I'm waiting for the file for our final publication to finish sending itself to the publisher, now just might be the perfect opportunity to sit down and tap this out. It's been a few weeks since I updated, and more than anything it's just a reflection of how insane things have been since I went to Venezia.

Since then, the publication that I've been editing and designing as a catalogue of the work that's been made here since September has finally come to a wrap. It's been an amazing mission and I couldn't have done it without the help of everybody involved. I can't wait to get my own copy in print. I also finished my last major piece which is probably my favourite drawing that I've done this year and participated in a sketchbook project with a design group in Copenhagen for another publication about traveling and responding to foreign environments. On top of that, my friend Matt has arrived from New Zealand for some time to get to know Firenze better than he had on his last visit in this neck of the woods to decide if he wants to try living here for a few weeks. After everything is officially finished with OCAD this weekend, I'll finally be able to be a proper host and I'll really get to play tourist in the city.

I leave Italy in eleven days, and before that there are a few things that I want to see and do. I'm planning on spending a few days in the Speccola, which is probably the oldest taxidermy museum in Italy to do some drawing, plenty of wandering in the city streets, plenty of documentation, and a trip to Cinque Terre to do the day-long hike along the Tyrhennian coast and get out of an urban environment for the first time since going to Cape Croker in August. It's going to be strange to lose the studio as a home, but the sanctioned spare time will be welcome.

I'm looking forward to the missions following that: Copenhagen, London, and then back to Canada. Home soil will probably be strange at first, but it will be great to see old familiar faces, munch on ethnic food, get back to the nitty gritty of Canadian culture, finally get to a concert, and get reintegrated. Then I'll be able to share these stories in person, and this book. Last night, at a potluck at Ron (our program director's) house, Peter (our art history teacher) spoke about us as being official residents in this city as that despite the fact that we have the tendency of feeling alien here, it's still our home. Some of us will have a harder time leaving than others. I think my biggest sense of rupture will come when I go into the Latteria and no longer have the ability to say "in solito" (which is "the usual") to Matteo the coffee guy; whereas the greatest sense of homecoming will be when I'm able to walk into a place like Bulldog Coffee of I Deal in Kensington Market and spend hours on a patio in the sun over numerous caffe lattes without feeling ridiculous for ordering a second round.