The statue, pictured above, is a marble sculpture portraying the death of Laocoön, a Trojan priest, and his sons for trying to expose the plot of the Trojan horse. I don't know that there is a reason that I should be reminded of this particular statue today, but it was nice to be reminded of my beautiful, once-in-a-lifetime trip to Italy with the Chaminade Scholars.
I have to say it was kind of weird that the clouds in the sky reminded me of this. If you saw them, you'd know what I meant. Taking a second look at them, they didn't really look like this statue at all. It was just a split second look at the clouds and I thought of this statue. It reminded me of a dream- how you can be in a place that looks nothing like what you know it to be, yet you know exactly where you are. Perhaps the white of the clouds reminded me of the white marble or the smooth curves of the clouds were reminiscent of those present in the sculpture. I really couldn't tell you exactly. The mind works in mysterious ways, but I'm glad to have had the opportunity to think back on my Italian experience.
Have you ever had a friend that was doing something you didn't agree with? They may not listen when you tell them to stop or may tune you out when you try to help. Sometimes they need to make their own mistakes and learn from them before they truly "get it." And let's not just pin this on "friends," it's probably been us who was wrong a time or two. Like the Trojans who didn't listen to Laocoön's warning, we only see our error after we experience the negative consequences we likely could have foreseen, after the city has been destroyed. How many times have we silenced the voice of reason only to regret it later? I think what I'm trying to say is don't kill Laocoön or this guy!
That little voice inside you warning you about the pony full of people who want to pummel you is probably making a lot of sense. This also just reminded me of the Shawshank Redemption, which I happened to watch last night. The mind does indeed work in mysterious ways. There is a part of the movie where the inmate who knows that Andy is innocent is murdered. This man was his chance to get out of prison for the crime he never committed. I am by no means saying that this man's death was a good thing, but from a movie-viewers perspective it made Andy's eventual triumph all the more rewarding. Maybe the mistakes we make aren't so bad; we are human after all. It just depends on if and how you bounce back. Do you use what you've learned to make your ending sweeter? Or do you let your mistakes spiral into a cycle of wrong choices?
My brain is on fire with the connections right now! I just realized that it's kind of funny that I brought Jiminy into this because two of the gifts I bought in Italy were Pinocchio (a marionette and a whistle-both of which the new owners love and both of which may have been blessed by the pope, if they count as religious objects). And I thought of Pinocchio when I said the thing about spirals of bad decisions, though Pinocchio's was more of a straight line- his nose!
Aren't those whistles just adorable?! I bought one because it reminded me of my nephew Enzo, but then I realized he is far to young at a year for one of these tiny whistles. Wouldn't want him choking! So, I gave it to my roommate Stacey instead, for her 21st birthday. And who knows, maybe she will end up giving it to a child in Africa on her trip to Zambia. She leaves this week and I hold her and that whole group of UD students in prayer!
Yep, I'm enjoying this blog just as much as I thought I would!
My original plan for this blog was that it would be my Vocation and the Arts Study Journal. I don't think this is a required component of my summer directed study, but I'm going to do my best to keep up with it anyways with thoughts from the readings and discussions and connections to the Italy experience, like this first post.
I will be getting into some intense preparation this week for the Praxis II, which I will be taking this Saturday, so I don't know that I'll have much to say before next Sunday. But, I can tie this to vocation and art! I currently believe my vocation involves instilling a lifelong love of and passion for learning in the minds of young children. Passage of this test is required in order to obtain my teaching license and thus fulfill my "call." And I believe that teaching is a true art form. It requires not only knowledge of your subject material but of each individual student as well. It requires time and dedication, passion and enthusiasm. To the people out there who think teaching is easy, I'd like to see them spend a day in a room of 20 first graders. It's easy to do any job poorly, but good teaching is an art and true learning, the always-in-progress masterpiece.
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