Master of All Masters...

A friend's balcony in Parker, Colorado afforded us with a magnificent October sky; in light of all the Italian art I couldn't get enough of over the past five weeks, I couldn't help but ponder how the light and colors in sunsets like this must have made history's greatest masters paralyzed by awe and envy, and perhaps even driven to capture such radiance on their own canvas...visits with envy for some of them would have been fleeting however, replaced by creative inspiration and a desire to glorify their Maker, the Master of all Masters...

 

As night teased at the corners of this stunning display, the colors only deepened to an intensity that seemed scarcely possible...and isn't this just like life lived walking with the Lord?!  The dark tugs at that which is light and good in our lives, but if we are walking in His stead, the color intensifies and is made more beautiful in its glowing twilight....may it be so in all the seasons of our lives!

Home Sweet Home!

Colorado welcomed us home with wide open skies and a beautiful sunset, reminding us of one of the many reasons we love living here.  Last winter when we were in the throes of planning this trip, we were told, "...you will go home very broke, and very happy!"  How true this is!  It felt good and right to arrive home as the October sun was setting, and closing out the day....closing out the final moments too of our family's adventure of a lifetime, one we expect will forever shape each of us.  Thank you for coming along on this ride via our Wanderings blog; thanks even more for thoughts and prayers for us while we've been gone.  We look forward to hearing your impressions of what you've read and seen!

High above is a grand way to see the widespread changes of a season; the setting light, bathing the land in autumn's amber hues was an unexpected delight, and I smiled out loud.

And then I laughed, because I saw this sign soon after, and Camden said, "mom, that one's in Paris, let's go see it!"

Our Very Last Day - Milan - Part III of III

  As if the day had not already been over the top memorable, we concluded the sights with experiencing one of the world’s most celebrated, & protected, paintings.  Denise had our tickets to see DaVinci’s Last Supper arranged ahead of time & after our rather comical walk to the church (inside story) where he painted it using his faulty “dry technique,” (hence the significant fading on the real painting), we were privileged to see it.  

A 20 year restoration process was completed in 1999 (same year they finished the equally long Sistine Chapel restoration), so the colors were remarkably more vibrant than I expected.  (side note: I haven’t posted our experience in the Sistine Chapel, but we saw it, its more than worthy of its historical hype & I’m looking forward to sharing it)  I should mention here that the above picture is simply a shot of the post card I bought; photography in this church is likely classified as a crime, so this gal kept her camera in the bag!

The Italians refer to their national treasure as the Cenacolo Vinciano (which, phonetically is something like this: Chen-awk-co-lo Vin-chiano).  Viewers are taken in small groups through 2 sets of glass doors that form enclosed square rooms; each set of doors open, only when the doors behind the group automatically close, and each group is only allowed 15 minutes with this sacred painting.  

Perhaps the Italians guard it so intently because they almost lost it completely during WWII.  While being hammered by enemy fire, a bomb was dropped on the church, which destroyed it and the immediate surrounding area....when the dust and debris settled, the Lord’s Last Supper remained intact and standing on one side, and directly opposite was this other wall, showing a compelling fresco of the crucifixion, painted the same year Da Vinci began his, 1495.  This too is merely a picture of my postcard, so it doesn't convey to the viewer it's significant size, which is a big part of what draws in a viewer.  This artist used the traditional fresco techniques (painting on wet plaster), so it's not had the fading issues suffered by the Last Supper.

I tried to clear my mind entirely and picture the WWII scene....tried to imagine being among those ruins with the worst of that day's bombing having ceased and people slowly coming out from wherever they sought shelter and escape...still gripped by the adrenaline of survival as they attempted to survey the damage, and there, where their church used to stand, this known wall of Jesus breaking bread, warning of treason among them, a chilling foreshadowing of the very next scene they see as they gaze at the only other standing wall in this part of their broken town: Montorfano's Crocifissione.  It was a bold reminder and expression of Christ's ultimate sacrifice.  I can't truly imagine the magnitude of that moment for those present...the loosening and gradual release of gut-filled fear as some would have surely realized that they were on holy ground.  I imagine my own presence in that place and moment, and if I had been fortunate enough to have shoes in that wanton time, I would have had to remove them as I stepped closer and would have dropped to knees in holy release.  Had that bomb been dropped with the slightest of shifts to the right or left, those walls would have gone down like all the rest.  But it wasn't, and they didn't.  

 What do I do with this beautiful intersection of faith and history; it's all the same story of course, and only a silly modern notion to compartmentalize and separate them.  When considered in light of Da Vinci's intentional choosing of this faulty artistic technique, the "dry" fresco, and his reasons for doing so, I have to smile and marvel at the speculative cohesion of it all.  He chose this uncommon approach for this painting because he wanted creative and editing license in the midst of his work; he wanted to be able to make changes as he worked.  He painted this most famous scene from 1495 to 1498; and that doesn't include all the years he had studied all previous church iconography , and the various artist's rendering of the same subject, in mere preparation for beginning this work.  

During his thoughtful studies, he noticed that every artist painted this scene from the moment when Judas was identified as the traitor; he wanted to capture the moment before that; the one of painful uncertainty and confusion among the Apostles as they were shocked by Jesus' words.  He then spent 4 years striving to perfect their expressions & gestures at this moment when Christ announces inevitable treason.  4 years with this painting - 4 years of taking steps forward, painting many strokes back....painting a portion of it, then painting over it, then changing this angle, mixing that hue of paint, standing back for reconsideration, and on and on.  

It's remarkable and beautiful and an example worth lingering over; to consider a man so long driven in using his unusually gifted talents, ultimately, for the glory of God.  And call me a hopeless romantic of sorts in my speculating, but I have to believe that the Lord WAS truly honored in this way and on that dreadful bomb-filled day, Providence held those walls firm and gifted the world with this legacy for those with eyes to see.  And my prayer was that God would continue to give me eyes to see, because I know there is more of His grace and legacy that goes on around me always, but I often lack the eyes to see it.

We wandered back to the Metro, thought-full from our day and somewhat melancholy, knowing we'd be having our own last supper of sorts when we returned to Orta that evening.  It was a chilly evening, so different from when we'd arrived the month before, and Denise had already prepared a wonderful Italian soup; she directed Ashley in making the cornbread and of course, we poured the vino to make the meal complete!

Roses from the garden; and isn't this just like friendship?  Friends are the roses, the brilliant colors and soft textures, the sweet kindnesses from the garden of what would otherwise be a drab and much too hard kind of life.  God does this; He plants countless seeds in the gardens of our life & then gives us the opportunity to participate in its beautiful harvest...

Our Very Last Day - Milan Part II of III

And I knew after this experience, that no lunch I'd ever have would top this!

Denise knew right where to take our breath away.  We went into the Harrod’s of Italy, tragically, at the moment, I can’t remember how to spell or pronounce this elegantly Italian, high end department store.  Nonetheless, we went to their roof top restaurant, where you pay as much for the view as you do for the food, and it's worth it, and walked through what I'd call a preliminary cafe, (pictured above) & then out onto their roof, & pictured below is what you see at eye level....    

We sat Cathedral side and savored delicious entrees & delectable desserts, and all the while, with the exception of when I took a few shots of the food, & was eating, this ornate gothic cathedral creation held my constant attention.  

Italians typify their days by being elegantly dressed when they’re out and about, (so many Europeans in general do this - made me realize how shabby we Americans often look!) and a cafe such as this, does so in excess.  As Denise would say, “they are dressed to the nines...!”  And they were, & it was such fun for this domestic homeschool mom to people-watch against the backdrop of this view.  It’s not the kind of setting where it’s appropriate to be an obvious tourist, but as discreetly as I could, I took a few shots.  To sit in my chair and be eye level with the upper portion of this cathedral while I sipped my wine and played grown-up (largely ignoring the dear children at the end of my table, or at least to the extent that I could, just long enough to sit with my own thoughts, (instead of their needs), my husband and friend)  - it's something I’ll never forget, & I will, no doubt, long for again when this trip is weeks behind us. ;-)  Wish I could meet you there for a coffee and conversation!

Notice that there are people climbing stairs between varying levels of spires; admittedly, I regret we were not among them that day, but, as I continue to remind myself, we had to leave a few things undone so as to fuel our dream to return!

As if the view, ambiance and company weren't enough, these desserts were as delicious as they are colorfully pleasing & beautiful...food as artistic expression is such fun & practical too; why not eat what is also beautiful?!

How does one add to what was already an amazing day....our final Part III of this day is the next post....it seemed appropriate that it have one of its own.... 

Our Very Last Day - Milan Part I of III (previously "unfinished post")

The stone steps leading up out of the long used & graffitied metro station yielded a stunning & unexpected reward right as we came up into the light...dare I say, yet another metaphor begging to be considered on this trip?!  It was just like coming out of the train station when we pulled into Venice; we were just walking up the steps, following the crowd in front of us, and BAM, our very next glance, & we were looking at the water traffic of the green Adriatic...only in this case, it was a magnificent gothic cathedral unlike any I’ve ever seen outside of a book.

Further inside it was dark and sacred, the crowd’s soft mumblings echoing through time.  And among the mix of global tourists with cameras clicking, my heart smiled to see that there were also quiet pilgrims in prayerful postures, lips parted with silent pleading and there was reverence for a holy God.  In side chapels on worn pews there were those resting in this presence, and those kneeling in humility before their Lord, candles lit as a reminder of His light in a dark and desperate world.  And if the metaphor of ourselves & our lives being the cathedral we build to honor Him ring true, let us keep our candles burning to offer light wherever we are confronted with the dark.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

One must always consider every level of a Basilica in order to gain appreciation for its unmatched attention to architectural detail.  Though the pilgrim’s gaze is understandingly compelled upward, the best place to begin may actually be the floor.  I can’t imagine the square footage, but every inch of it is carefully and beautifully adorned with patterned marble for the glory of God.

The sun came out from behind the clouds at just the right moment to brighten the interior just enough to get this shot.  Like so many of the massive basilicas we've experienced, there are lovely side chapels, and artful niches with paintings & statues, each with significant history and meaningful connections to the Gospel's Story.

Shifting gears for a moment, we left the Basilica and next saw the Galleria, as in, Milan’s fashion epicenter.  A bit of stark contrast in terms of significance; beautiful in its own separate kind of way.  Two weeks previously, while we were south, the world’s most sassy fashionistas descended on the city for the annual, world renowned “Fashion Week.”  The massive square in front of the Basilica is filled with chairs gathered around elevated cat walks while high end & elite designers drape their living mannequins in the very best their imagination has to offer, while the photographers compete with the longest lenses imaginable.  The novelty of being present for such an event would have been memorable, but the city was busting at it’s fashionable seams, so we were glad to miss it!

Nonetheless, Ashley had fun window shopping & gaping over the most expensive fashion she’s ever seen.  The likes of Prada, Guicci, Louis Vuitton, Dolce & Gabana, just to briefly name a few, all share center-stage real estate in Milan’s most elite shopping mecca.

From there, we crossed a few streets for a glimpse of Leonardo da Vinci’s commemorative statue; though born in Florence, he did so much to put Milan on the map in his day.  His museum is here, though many of you may recall me marveling that we went to see an exhibition from his museum on 16th street mall two weeks before we left Denver.  It included over 60 models of his revolutionary inventions that were created by 3rd generation Florentine artisans from his extensive sketches and drawings.  Still amazes me that we got to see it right before coming on this trip!! 

Teatro alla Scala is directly across the street from his statue, and is THEE theater for the world’s very best operas: Carmen, Aida, Madame Butterfly, just to name a few.  Unfortunately, they had closed for lunch by the time we got there, which happens a lot in Italy, so a few post cards & this outside picture of their current show was as close as we got.  It goes on the list of what more we’ll do and see when we return!


This captured the first half of our very last day in Italy.  To prevent total burn out on the part of readers, I thought I should divide the day into two posts.  With the amount of public transportation, foot travel & site seeing we covered most days on this overall adventure, our single days had more than enough richness to spread them over several days each!  Thanks for coming along for the ride! 

Headed Home....

This was our last glimpse of Isola San Giulio, on our last evening stroll home to our apartment from the peaceful, hill-perched Comoli home; as Camden would say of their house, (& the rest of us would echo) "it's my very favorite place in all of Italy, mom..."  Our fantastic final day in Milan was made complete by a delicious dinner (again!) in our favorite Italian kitchen.  Pictures from this day will follow in the next post; it's a reverse order - I've begun the post with the day's closing.  Some days are like that.  Can't wait to show where we had the lunch of a lifetime!

We wandered slowly, a bit melancholy, and talked about the very first day we stumbled over these cobblestones, awe-struck by Orta's timeless beauty & giddy with the excitement of a new adventure.  It is amazing how much of life can be lived in 4 short weeks; we vacillated between feeling as if we've been gone for months, and feeling like we had just arrived & were finally understanding basic cultural nuances and establishing a solid regional travel routine - trains, metros, buses & maps in Italian.  There was excitement too as we walked that night, and knew that our next night sleep would be in our own beds.  Home is rarely more longed for than when its absence beckons constant reminders; in our final two days, the kid's anticipation of Home was at its highest, & we were thankful for this timing.  The fact that it took almost a full 5 weeks for them to feel this way is a testament to the endearing care with which Denise engaged with our children; they truly know how much she adores them, how she treasures each of them individually for reasons as unique as they each are, & they will keep her (& Giovanni too!) in their hearts forever.

As we gazed our last out at the lake and at stars overhead, we returned to our home away from home, pictured below, for final packing and our last Italian sleep.  It's no small task to pack up the souvenir treasures of a seven year old (or 9 & 12 year olds - more on their's later).  As I opened drawers to pull out any remaining clothing, I discovered that Camden had pooled most of his collection in this spot.   It's missing his post cards & a couple Roman swords, but each item here has a story, his own story, about what he saw and what he learned.  I stopped to consider & think on how much he's grown in this relatively short time.  We greatly anticipate hearing the reflections of our children in the months, & undoubtedly, years, ahead about how this trip will influence their worldview & their own perception of their place in it.  We're thrilled to have had the front seat view of this part of their growing up and development.  Priceless.

After a heart-full, tearful goodbye with Denise, we boarded our flight in Milan, with bags of pasta in tow, & were thankful for Chris' flying status with Delta that allowed us early boarding.  The kids are so much bigger than in previous years of adventures of course, but with 3 it's still a relief to get on early & get them settled.

Immediately, red tiled rooftops came into view, albeit hazy, & we smiled, knowing how blessed & fortunate we've been to know a bit of this beautiful country with her varied regions, histories & peoples.  It wasn't long before the Alps came into view through Ashley's window, and she excitedly woke me, knowing I wouldn't want to miss the photo opp!  Breath-taking views, best seen from thousands of feet above.  

It's been said that the best part of travel is often in the return....I wouldn't want to falsely suggest that that's actually the "best" part of this experience, but it is certainly with sweet delight that we landed on American soil...the most familiar, for better or for worse, and therefore, the very best we know & love.  We felt welcomed just by looking around.