The Slaves

The most significant part of my days in Paris approached me at the Louvre while standing in front of  Michelangelo's Rebellious Slave and Dying Slave.
I was close enough to touch the same piece of stone that this extraordinary man labored over, the same piece of stone that he made plans for and felt. I stood in front of his craft, his passion, his life. What was he thinking as he cut each unwanted piece away? Was he satisfied with his end result? Did he ever imagine that hundreds of years later people would still be traveling the world just to stand face to face with his creations? Am I too far away or not close enough? Where did he want his viewers and how did he want these men to be percieved?

I wanted to hold their faces in my hands, I wanted to touch the marble that took hours upon hours to polish and perfect. I craved to trace every detail after discovering the precision needed to create the realistic lines and the attention to usually unnoticed details in the human form. I'm pretty sure I spent a solid ten minutes just staring at their feet(You guys probably wouldn't want to come to museums with me...) It's incredible to think that he chisled away those small lines and shaped a stone to look like an actual moving being. And the muscles too, think about how long he had to study and know the marble so that he knew exactly how it would break to create movement in a shoulder blade or calf muscle.

I was blessed in that everyone else in the room seemed to be distracted with the other pieces and left me in a comfortable position to stand in amazement without feeling like a bother. I know that slot of time was reserved just for me to stand in wonder and to realize that He wants us to be enslaved in that wonder every minute of every day with His creations, His people, His works of art. I need to be amazed at the little details of life that I tend to under appreciate and recognize the care and labor He put into our surroundings and circumstances. I hope He highlights the fine lines in my life and pray to be more aware and conscious of the little things that come together and put life into His perfect motion.

I wish I could say I had another mind blowing experience with the Mona Lisa but that was not the case. Maybe it was the atmosphere(there were literally hundreds of people shoving their way to catch a glimpse. Think of it as a touristic moshpit.) or because it was so distant and covered with glass. Maybe if I could see the brush strokes and the rises and falls of the paint I would have the same bewilderment as I did with the slaves. Although I didn't get the urge to weep with adoration in front of the most secretive woman in history, it was a pretty epic end to my Parisian tour.

Can't wait to show you the rest!