Soul boxes. That’s the sum of us. Our corporeal dimension anyway....We’re souls held captive by the bodies that surround them.
Lately, Michelangelo’s renowned "The Captive Slave” which and whom I find utterly riveting has been on my mind. It itself is not here in Paris, however his accompaniments, the other Captive Slaves, are actually here at the Louvre:
Michelangelo’s approach to “sculpting”--his preferred medium of expressing the art within himself--was that he was merely the vessel and means by which the sculpture inside the marble with which he worked with was to be released and revealed. “The Captive Slave” was one of his favorites and one with which he most identified as he felt too that he was a soul stuck inside his body. He empathized with the captive slave that wanted to be released from the marble case that housed him....
The sculpture is considered to be unfinished. But then, aren’t we all? Michelangelo knew he was a Soul encased. A Soul inside a Box. It’s easy for me to lose perspective and sight of this principle.
This "Soul Box" comes to mind when, out amongst the busy and ever milling public in Paris I find myself once again and occasionally squeezing my eyes shut for an instant trying to maintain perspective on the depth--or shall I say extent--of human interaction going on around me. I suppose there isn’t always a lot of “depth” going on, but certainly a lot of extent. It’s hard not to become calloused to it. It takes effort. People are infinitely more that what we see of them. I see the cover, a case, but the housed and intangible entity inside is what is most beautiful and relevant.
I think this has been the most challenging part for me, living in a true “city” (besides the inordinate amount of NOISE). And Paris is a city of cities to be sure....She boasts of--for whatever duration of time, each and every one--circa 5,000,000 persons, Soul Boxes in a moment.
I’m not used to that, so I still feel like a little girl sometimes, staring around me wide-eyed at all there is to see and the juxtaposition of just about everything around me. It’s fascinating, but exhausting too. Yet another juxtaposition to be noted. But however far my mind may wander exploring the "nouveauté" around me, I come back to Michelangelo. There's something to that slave wanting ever since his Renaissance origin to come out of that marble, to which we can all perhaps relate. And I don't ever want to lose sight of the priority that the intangible has over what is seen in the arena of humanity. For we are not but the sum of our corporeal makeup. We are so much more.
It’s beautiful, powerful, oppressive and invigorating all at once. Depending on what mood I’m in I guess....
Lately, Michelangelo’s renowned "The Captive Slave” which and whom I find utterly riveting has been on my mind. It itself is not here in Paris, however his accompaniments, the other Captive Slaves, are actually here at the Louvre:
Michelangelo’s approach to “sculpting”--his preferred medium of expressing the art within himself--was that he was merely the vessel and means by which the sculpture inside the marble with which he worked with was to be released and revealed. “The Captive Slave” was one of his favorites and one with which he most identified as he felt too that he was a soul stuck inside his body. He empathized with the captive slave that wanted to be released from the marble case that housed him....
The sculpture is considered to be unfinished. But then, aren’t we all? Michelangelo knew he was a Soul encased. A Soul inside a Box. It’s easy for me to lose perspective and sight of this principle.
This "Soul Box" comes to mind when, out amongst the busy and ever milling public in Paris I find myself once again and occasionally squeezing my eyes shut for an instant trying to maintain perspective on the depth--or shall I say extent--of human interaction going on around me. I suppose there isn’t always a lot of “depth” going on, but certainly a lot of extent. It’s hard not to become calloused to it. It takes effort. People are infinitely more that what we see of them. I see the cover, a case, but the housed and intangible entity inside is what is most beautiful and relevant.
I think this has been the most challenging part for me, living in a true “city” (besides the inordinate amount of NOISE). And Paris is a city of cities to be sure....She boasts of--for whatever duration of time, each and every one--circa 5,000,000 persons, Soul Boxes in a moment.
I’m not used to that, so I still feel like a little girl sometimes, staring around me wide-eyed at all there is to see and the juxtaposition of just about everything around me. It’s fascinating, but exhausting too. Yet another juxtaposition to be noted. But however far my mind may wander exploring the "nouveauté" around me, I come back to Michelangelo. There's something to that slave wanting ever since his Renaissance origin to come out of that marble, to which we can all perhaps relate. And I don't ever want to lose sight of the priority that the intangible has over what is seen in the arena of humanity. For we are not but the sum of our corporeal makeup. We are so much more.
It’s beautiful, powerful, oppressive and invigorating all at once. Depending on what mood I’m in I guess....
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