I just came back from a beautiful wedding in Victoria. It was a tiny wedding, aside from the bride and groom there were two guests and I was one of them. I accompanied the bride from her room in an upper floor of the Empress Hotel to the library where the ceremony was held. She was radiant. On the way to the ceremony we passed a number of people -housecleaning in the lobby, a boyfriend and girlfriend in baseball caps walking briskly out to the street.
It is easy for me to forget the great power of words because they are so common. The voice of support and confidence can, at times, be the only thing that makes a difficultly seem possible to overcome. A harsh word can be all it takes to steer us away from ever fulfilling our calling. There is enough discouragement inherent in the challenges of life, serving as the voice of reason, more important is the often lone voice of motivation.
Today I visited the Michelangelo show at the Seattle Art museum. There were a few excellent pieces including a wonderful terracotta sculpture of a male torso. The show is tiny comprised of only a few mostly minor drawings. Yet it is impossible not to be moved by them. I feel more humanity eminating from those few unfinished scribbles than in the whole rooms of large scale, ambitious contemporary paintings.
There was a Newsweek article which came out a few months ago commenting on the fact that schools don't teach script anymore. The author was delighted to report that cursive was essentially a useless exercise in nostalgia and the sooner it disappears the better. I considered writing in but decided against it. I didn't save any time in the long run because here I am still thinking about it.