Oh My! Mona LIsa!
Getting to the spot where I could stop and take this picture was a major accomplishment in Paris. First, we had to stand in a line that stretched around the entire patio, in the pouring rain, of which most of us were ill-prepared . An hour earlier the skies were grey but dry as we watched the Tour de France pedal their way by the Louvre, so when the skies opened up there were many, many of us that sought out shelter in the Louvre.
The Mona Lisa was #2 on my wish list for Paris so I was tickled pink that the weather provided us with this perfect time for an indoor activity. Finally, after a severe soaking, we entered the glass pyramid, rode the escalator, got our tickets, (ez line time here) and entered the museum.
The Louvre is quite the labyrinth and having a map to the painting didn’t really help us find it easily. We tried asking the museum attendants but the language barrier and their interest in helping us didn’t help, much.
After about an hours worth of aimless wandering thru sculptures, ancient tools & technology, and French Renaissance furnishings, my beloved granddaughter had had enough. Her resistance began slowly but escalated quickly over the next few display rooms. By the time we’d gotten to the area where there were actual paintings of that era she was in the throws of a full, unrestricted, hysterical melt down that only a 7-year old Taurus can produce. She wanted out. Now. Her mother and her other grandmother were with me as we all took turns to try to calm her down. Nothing seemed to work. Worse of all, we kept getting lost and needed to keep doubling back to find the Mona Lisa. There was no way I was leaving without seeing that painting! I hoped that the other adults felt the same as I didn’t want to be the sole reason for this child’s unrelenting suffering.
Finally, we found the doorway into the room where she was hanging. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting, but it wasn’t what I saw at first glance. She was hanging at the far end of a large room on a wall by herself. A security bar kept everyone a safe distance way. There was a crowd and we were in the back. My granddaughter quieted down.
I got goosebumps!
And, there’s more to this story to come, but not now. Have a nice day.
This Sunday I am hoping to participate once again at the monthly Circle Of Stories. It’s open to anyone and if you want the time/place details let me know.
StoryTelling is a new art/hobby/practice for me and I’ve enjoyed watching the process that I put myself through to get from inspiration to presentation. It’s usually exhausting and exhilarating both at the same time. I wonder why am I doing this. It’s stressful, yet fulfilling too. What keeps me coming back is the creative challenge to be authentic, entertaining, and deliver a message in three short minutes.
I’ve learned that it really is best to prepare. Write things down. Stand in front of a mirror. Practice enunciation. All that kind of stuff.
My plan today for this Sunday is to continue the story that began with the ill-fated cruise in the Caribbean. The ship broke down under a full moon sky and we remained motionless in the hot, humid Atlantic air for more than 12 hours. What happened after that was amazing!
But, you’ll have to come on Sunday to find out!
I appreciate the oral tradition of storytelling. So much more gets communicated than just words alone, especially if such words are simply fonts on a screen. Old fashioned cursive writing on your paper of choice adds minimal, non-verbal detail to our words. But, the wisdom and knowledge that gets communicated through the sound of the voice reigns supreme for not just understanding and wisdom, but also for entertainment and healing.
Thinking about bringing my harp but undecided yet.
Wow! Sunday was my first-ever storytelling performance with a harp, and the audience was delighted. I recognized some serious applause and I was told later that everyone was talking about me, although, I don’t think it was really me they were talking about….it was really about the harp. Once again I forgot how utterly mesmerizing this instrument is to most people….and me too, of course. For all the worry, anxiety, and practice….the music just flowed exactly the way it was supposed to.
Chiron teaching harp to Achilles
In the first person, I told the story of Chiron’s Birth and why he came to be living in a cave with his harp.
This centaur, known as The Wounded Healer, is a mythological story that has captured my attention for the past 20 years or so and I’m frequently referring to his symbolism in my lectures/workshops and yoga therapy classes. He’s got a powerful story for our times, for sure. So many of us feel wounded, shamed, abandoned and just plain old sad. I’ve blogged a bit about Chiron, the asteroid, and this post gives a pretty good overview of the astrological Chiron. Today Chiron is traveling thru Pisces which supports healing thru music.
This was the first time, in a long time, that rather than teach or facilitate, I practiced Performance & (intentional) Drama. I was totally unprepared for the sheer joy that I experienced after it was over and thruout the following day. It was wonderful to find a new, creative outlet that brings together so much of what I love to do, and still challenges me in new ways. But four minutes is nothing when your hands are on the strings, you know?
Already, I am planning Chapter 2, and expanding my story to maybe 10-15 minutes? Who knows? For now, Storytelling is a new hobby/activity for me and I am so excited to see where it takes me.