How important it is that we don’t shut out the light by constructing hiding places out fear, hate, anger, guilt, and insecurity. Love this blog and had to share..
The space was cool with an ancient, heavy coolness sunk deep into the stone floor, clinging to my bare feet and staying between the bones. The air was the slightest bit damp, holding that intriguing stony-musty scent of very old places.
But the light. It was the light that made me understand.
A room in a 13th century Italian structure, formerly an abbey, was our bedroom for a week. When I opened the thick wooden shutters to let the feeble indirect light into the dim room, the bedsheet’s crumpled folds were illuminated. My eyes instantly recognized those distinct lines and shadows. I saw the difficult, long-studied shading of fabric folds painted by the masters, while beyond, in the corner, shadows fell over the foreboding wardrobe of some deep almost-color. I saw what the masters had seen.
All those Renaissance paintings with their bright, sharp-focused subjects wearing rich colors, cool eyes directly…
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