My Seven Wonders

This week's prompt from Mama Kat's is to list Seven Wonders that I've seen with my own eyes. There are two very different ways I could take this, emotional experiences or geographical. Since traveling is very near and dear to my heart, I'm going to focus on geography... for the most part.

7. Seeing Les Demoiselles d'Avignon by Picasso at the MOMA in NYC actually reduced me to tears. It was one of the two most powerful artistic experiences of my life. I was with my "homo-hubby" who then claimed that I was the one being a drama queen. Sure, sure, my beloved poof -- Shut it!

6. Walking (slowly) up the Eiffel Tower because my then boyfriend, now husband, is terrified of heights. Lesson learned? Don't go when you're a student and save up for the god damn, motherfucking elevator. Aside from that, it was amazing to see all the iron work up close and the views of Paris were gorgeous.

5. Although not nearly as touristically (yeah, I think I just made up a word) famous as the Parthenon, when arriving at the Temple of Poseidon just outside of Athens, I knew I was somewhere special. Perhaps it was because it wasn't so over-run with people, or under intense restoration efforts, but those ivory columns overlooking the sea were simply incredible.

4. Although I actually found The Louvre to be pretty boring (how much Rococo art can one actually stomach, I mean, really?!), I then... THEN, I found the Musée d'Orsay, which is the home of many of Manet's works, including Olympia. Oh my darlings, I cannot express how much I love that painting. She's a sexy, scandalous bitch! Once again, tears.

Olympia {Source: Wikipedia}

3. Reaching the top of Ayers Rock was visually amazing and also an impressive accomplishment for me. I have short legs, and I really fucking hate climbing pretty much anything over a 10degree incline. At some points the angles were quite terrifying. Once you get there, the view from the top is surreal - looking out into the absolute flat nothingness of the outback.

2. The Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG) is my Mecca. I can remember the smell of the crisp air and fresh grass; the sounds of the crowds cheering; and the tastes of fresh meat pies and warm jam donuts. It's the only place I've actually fell in love with a sport, and the city that holds its heart... and mine.

1. Going up to a small island in Georgian Bay where my father had written in giant letters his name and the year, 1968; he would have been 15 at the time, and it's one of only two things I've ever seen in his own handwriting (the other being a doodle on his school desk). I felt more close to him floating in a boat in front of that rock face than I ever have at his grave. It was faded by the sun and weather, but still clear enough to take my breath away.