The church has renaissance paintings and sculptures. Immense vaulted space lit by jeweled windows of stained glass. Titian is entombed there, and so is Canova’s heart. I stood awed by 800 years of glory. Then, high up in the air, something glimmered. One silken spider thread spanned the glory of vaulted light.
What could be more ephemeral than a spider's web? The startling contrast of eternity and the present made me come alive, made the bells ring and ring.
Suddenly how long, how great no longer mattered to me. Only ascension to the now, to the here. The great history of creative endeavor and accomplishment is like Frari Church. And anything we try to make or do belongs there simply because it is a participation in the age-old creative glory of the human spirit.
But I don’t need my work on a church wall. Don’t need my heart entombed when I die. I need to live now. I need to be a spider and soar into that vaulted glory, spinning out any gossamer beauty I might make. And should one person look up, see it, and stand transfixed for a moment, that is masterpiece enough for me.
LORE OF THE BELL
Spin your silken thread into the vaulted glory,
and the bells will ring.
7:30 BELLS Posts run every Tuesday.
7:30 BELLS Guest Posts run on the second Tuesday of every month. Join me on May 13 for a guest post with actress and children's literature blogger Little Willow, Allie Costa.