This week Cheri stirred a few stray thoughts and even the odd emotion when her challenge arrived. Masterpiece. Simple? No, complex. My mind instantly returned to Paris. Our one and only visit some years ago. Why Paris? That’s where a dream of mine became reality. The reality of a boy from the wilds of Southern Africa seeing a real Michelangelo. The Louvre… that Palace of pleasure and beauty. The place of decadence, of history, art and visual splendour only ever dreamed of by me, the bare footed boy from the veld!
I told you many moons ago about the emotion of seeing The Pieta in St Peter’s. That was special and the memory will live with me for as long as the grey matter holds up but in some ways it will always be second to that first sighting of a true masterpiece. Yes, our day at the Louvre was a blurred rush. I’ve since said if ever I’m granted the opportunity of returning I’ll go to Paris for at least 2 weeks. I’d spend every second day at the Palace as that will allow the mind to calm down… allow the sensory overload to subside before returning for more!
The Master’s much underrated Dying Slave had me absolutely captivated. I stood there… staring. Living rock… carved, chiseled… honed and polished by the hands of a person who was so talented 50 other’s couldn’t match his creative genius or skill. It was, for me, one of the moments of my life. I stood. Eventually, I managed to move… to find my feet. So, how do you justify this reaction? Yes, I’d walked passed a spectacular array of other art… even the Mona Lisa… yes I laid eyes on her… turned on my heel and went in pursuit of my first encounter with a real masterpiece!
These few pics were taken with a tiny 2 Meg point and shoot… that’s not the point. The point is every time I see these photos I’m reminded of the small barefoot boy from the sticks getting to see real beauty! OH… by the way… at one point I lost my focus so totally that I walked right into one of the seating benches… I’m sure I still carry a dent in a shin…