My brother and I went to Italy a few years ago. It was after my grandfather died and having lived with him (and my mom) after my parents split up, I think we felt extra close to him. But we weren't his children, either and it was difficult to express and for others to fully empathise with how we were feeling. So we went off, on our own, to Italy - as one does. And in the process we discovered that we could travel well together, a happy thing.
We had a great time - all that culture and pasta was very therapeutic. And I think we both liked Florence. But the problem with Florence is that it's just too amazing, too full of fabulous things to see. I love museums, I love art, but even my eyes were starting to curl. Oh look - I've seen that painting in many an art history text, (yawn) look it's another Great Master. Oh yes, this square is perfect in proportion - yes, I do have an odd feeling of peace. Ho hum. I think that's because Michelangelo designed this place, too.
We were outside the Museum of the Duomo (Cathedral), leaning against concrete traffic bollards and sucking on Marloboros - and I was trying to convince my brother to go in to this one last museum. He was reluctant. A British tourist stopped just next to us to light his cigarette - and I asked him - as one can do in the brotherhood of smokers "Hey, what's in there? Is it worth going in?"
"Well, there's some Michelangelo, Donatello and Raphael. Yeah, it's worth it," he said with a shrug - probably thinking "philistine Americans", but sounding a little culture weary himself.
"Hey, VolBro, it's got three of the four Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles, it's gotta be worth seeing," I said.
So in we went. And I can't say I saw things with exactly fresh eyes. But the thing about great, truly great works of art, is that even when you've ceased to be amazed by merely the wonderful you can still be stopped in your tracks by a truly powerful work that can speak to you.
This one did. I saw it in expat blogger Anglofille's Flickr photostream this morning. And of course a sneaky pic can never have the power of the real thing, but it did take me back to an August afternoon in Florence this gray and cool London morning.
_________
Rather interestingly, she her latest post is about her grandfather, gone 9 years and their connection that remains.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Thanks for the links, Vol. The Duomo Museum was my favorite in all of Florence. I'm glad my photo helped bring back a pleasant memory in some way.
Regarding what you stated about your grandfather, I think many people underestimate the grief one can feel when a grandparent dies. I've expressed my grief for my grandfather to people and they've not dismissed it, per se, but they tend to think that it can't compare to the loss of a parent. While it's true that my grief would be far worse if one of my parents died (my grandfather did get the chance to live a long life), I still think it's a shame when people need to put grief into different categories. Grief is grief.
Post a Comment